by Ben Wolf
He chewed for a minute then lodged the bite in his left cheek. “I was surfing our security network last night. Well, early this morning, actually. You know, just for kicks. Found some crazy stuff.”
“Such as?” Etya flexed her metal fingers and frowned. Though her prosthetic gave her a wide range of practical advantages over weak bones and delicate flesh, she still missed having two normal, human hands.
“An incident report. But not from Sector 13. Everyone knows what happened there, so they wrote it clean. Didn’t try to hide anything. Too many witnesses for any sort of cover-up.”
Etya mentally rolled her eyes, but she kept from actually doing it. “Go on.”
“Turns out, last night, the security network had another ‘outage.’” Garth held up his index finger. A line of ranch dressing ran down it and pooled between his index finger and his middle finger. “Now I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t me.”
He pulled his finger back and licked the ranch dressing off of it.
“But you have some other explanation, perhaps?”
Garth shook his head. “Nope. Just like the last one, I have no idea who or what caused it. But that’s not the interesting part.”
Etya checked the time on her visual display. “If you do not mind, Garth, please get to the point. I need to report back to the science office in less than twelve minutes.”
“Sorry.” He set his sandwich on his tray and slurped another purple swig from his cup. “Turns out, we’re one security guard short today. A guard named Kriff Morrison was guarding the mine, reported a disturbance, possibly a trespasser, and went in after him. But when the other guards on-duty got there, Kriff was gone.”
Etya squinted at him. “What do you mean, ‘gone?’”
“I mean he wasn’t there anymore. Stecker and Janikowski found his plasma gun and his baton lying inside the mine corridor, but aside from trace amounts of blood on the plasma gun and the mine floor, there was no sign of him.” Garth wiped his face and hands with a napkin. “It’s as if he just vanished and left those behind.”
“He vanished, but neglected to take his weapons with him? One of which had blood on it? Sounds like some sort of struggle occurred.”
“Exactly my thoughts,” Garth whispered. “But if there was a struggle, what happened to Kriff? Why hasn’t he come back? If he’s dead, why isn’t there a body, or any signs of anyone else having been there? And is this somehow connected to the other worker’s disappearance from a couple weeks ago? And so many other questions.”
Etya shook her head. “I am a scientist, but forensics is not my specialty.”
“Of course, there’s no video record of it. The mine’s whole sub-network went down. Thankfully, the shutdown didn’t spread to Admin or the living quarters. Might’ve shut down the life support systems if it had.” Garth picked up his sandwich again and licked his lips. “Stecker and Janikowski’s report also said that when they got inside, the emergency evac lights were on.”
“Does that mean anything?”
“Not really. Just confirms what I said about the network being down. Those are battery operated. They pop on if the system can’t get the regular lights or the backup lights on. You follow ‘em, and then you can get out of the mine. It’s one of about a billion Coalition mining regulations Andridge has to follow.”
He chomped into the sandwich again, and the side facing Etya pulsed with more ranch dressing.
“So Kriff the security guard went missing in the mine. Anything else?” Etya asked.
Garth chewed and swallowed. “The report is highly classified. I certainly wasn’t given access to it, if you catch my wave. My guess is that only a select handful of people even know Kriff is missing. You can bet they’re gonna cover this one up, too, based on how they’ve behaved thus far.”
Etya nodded. Covering things up is what Andridge does best—even better than mining copalion.
Garth’s ready access to ACM-1134’s secrets was valuable, though Etya wished she’d found a way to compensate him other than their current arrangement. “Thank you, Garth. If you will excuse me, I must get back to the science office.”
“No worries.” Garth took another bite and winked at her. “See you Saturday night.”
Etya picked up her tray and forced a smile. “Let me know if you find anything else.”
On Saturday at 1638 hours, Etya headed from the science office up to the administrative center. She rode the elevator alone, ahead of Gary Paulson, her science office’s second-in-command. She’d never liked Gary. Then again, she didn’t like anyone at ACM-1134 anymore.
The lift opened on the top level of the admin center, and Etya stepped past the empty reception area and walked through the dimly lit office area. Rather than a mass of cubicles surrounded by offices that lined the perimeter like on the two lower levels, one sprawling office took up half of the floor, and three smaller offices filled the rest of the space.
Rodney Marshall, the head of IT, had the office on the far left. Laithe Gerhardt, the head of security, had the centermost office, and Marilyn Vickers, ACM-1134’s financial director, had the one on the far right.
The big one belonged to Bartholomew Morgan, the mine’s Chief Executive Operator. Bartholomew had his own secretary who worked inside his office with him, but the other three shared the secretary who manned the reception desk.
A soft blue light glowed around the upper and lower edges of Bartholomew’s office. He’d initiated the privacy settings on the glass and darkened it so it went opaque, but some light still glowed near where the glass was sealed to the floor and ceiling.
Etya rounded the side of the office and knocked on the glass door, also darkened. She looked at the round camera mounted just above the scanner.
A long moment passed. She raised her hand to knock again, but a voice sounded over the comms system on the office’s exterior.
“May I help you, Etya?” Bartholomew asked. “The meeting doesn’t begin for another twenty minutes.”
“You should know by now that I prefer to be early,” she replied.
Bartholomew sighed. “Give me five minutes.”
“I am content to wait.” Etya leaned against the wall behind her, and the comms clicked off.
Four minutes later, the door opened on its own, and Etya walked in.
Bartholomew stood near his mammoth wooden desk with his back facing Etya. His hands adjusted his collarless dress shirt around his waistline.
Etya looked to her left. Seated at her own desk perpendicular to the door, Vanessa Torbold straightened her blonde hair. Bartholomew’s very skilled, very beautiful secretary.
Etya rolled her eyes and sat at the teardrop-shaped conference table separating Vanessa’s desk from Bartholomew’s.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Etya.” Bartholomew turned to face her and started pulling his suit coat on. “Vanessa and I were just—”
“You need not explain to me.” Etya held up her prosthetic hand.
Bartholomew adjusted the sleeves of his suit coat and nodded. “Very well, then.”
Over the next fifteen minutes, the rest of the meeting’s invitees filtered into the room: Shannon Davis, Harold Skylar, Laithe Gerhardt, Ofelia Dunham, Rodney Marshall, Marilyn Vickers, and Gary Paulson. They took seats around the table in no particular order, except that Bartholomew sat at the head of the teardrop, and Gary sat next to Etya.
Once everyone got situated, Bartholomew sat as well and rested his hands on the table’s glass surface. “I have no desire to carry on with this meeting interminably, so let us all exercise brevity. Then we can all get to the rest of our weekend. Our meeting objective is to determine the viability of resuming routine mining operations in Sector 13 on Monday morning.”
Bad idea. Etya kept her arms folded and didn’t look up.
“Marilyn, the floor is yours.”
Marilyn Vickers set a portable drive on the tabletop, and a colorful holographic projection sprung from the center of the table. She droned thr
ough her presentation on how much money the mine would lose per day should mining operations in ACM-1134’s sole functional sector remain suspended.
Bartholomew and Ofelia asked some questions, but Etya ignored them.
Instead, she wondered how she might be able to get out of having to meet Garth after the meeting concluded. She could say she was sick, or she could insist that not every piece of information he provided necessitated a sexual rendezvous.
Shannon Davis and Harold Skylar stood next, and they described how a special team of workers had filled and patched the fissure in Sector 13 over the last couple of days. They expected it to hold, though they’d cordoned off that area for a few extra days just to be safe.
Once they knew a mech could step on the patch without breaking through, they’d reopen the area for excavation.
Laithe Gerhardt and Rodney Marshall stood next. They gave a tandem presentation detailing the security and technical issues they’ve had with the mine’s sub-network since the incident in Sector 6 involving Justin Barclay. Rodney also addressed concerns that the Admin sub-network and the common area’s sub-network might also be compromised.
A fresh hologram materialized above the table—mostly technical readouts and three-dimensional images of circuitry blocks and the network mainframe located deep within Sector 6 that they might eventually need to access to fully address the problem. Etya listened for a moment but gradually lost interest in their words as well.
She noted a few bits of useful information, but Garth had already filled her in on much more than what Rodney and Laithe had willingly revealed. They concluded by stating that they had restored total security and network functionality, at least for now, so from their perspectives, Sector 13 could safely resume mining operations by Monday.
Following a few more questions from Bartholomew and others, they sat down. Then Bartholomew pointed to Etya. “Your turn.”
She placed her prosthetic palm flat on the tabletop, and the first of her holographs appeared—a view of Ketarus-4 from space. “By now you have all read my report on Ketarus-4’s overall geologic instability. The location of ACM-1134 is one of the planet’s focal points of seismic activity, with more quantifiable disruption occurring only in two other places globally.”
Two teal triangles glowed to life on the planet’s surface, and a third triangle, this one Andridge orange, appeared to denote the mine’s location.
“As you know, these three locations, ours included, are the sites of Andridge’s planned copalion mines,” she continued. “I will reiterate what I have already asserted regarding each of these sites: the copalion reserves are ample, but the mine locations should adhere to the protocols followed by other ACM mines on planets with comparable geological constitutions.”
“Meaning?” Bartholomew asked.
“Meaning, this mine should not exist directly overtop of the copalion reserve as it currently does. It should have been built a minimum of three miles from the edge of the copalion reserve, and we should have mined toward it laterally rather than vertically, like we are attempting to do here.”
With a thought, Etya changed the hologram through her prosthesis’s uplink to the table, and it shifted to a view of Grostonia-1, another planet where ACM had multiple mines. It zoomed into a view of the largest mine, attached to the largest copalion deposit.
“Take this mine on Grostonia-1, for example. Here, ACM set up mining operations properly, and after a couple of years of removing useless rock, the mine now ranks in the top twenty of all company mines in both profit and production. And that is despite comparable seismic instability throughout the planet.
“Given the size of the copalion reserves below us now, we can easily break into the ranks of ACM’s top fifty mines within two years. Within ten years, we could possibly rank in the top thirty. That is, however, contingent on us excavating the copalion in a way that does not further endanger mining operations or workers.
“I can’t speak to whether or not the science lines up with what she’s saying,” Harry spoke up, “but I can tell you that Sector 13 still hasn’t struck copalion in any form where we could excavate it safely. In fact, the only time we’ve even seen copalion was when Keontae Oluwelu fell into the fissure and died. So whether we move or not, we haven’t made much progress so far.”
Etya hadn’t expected anyone to side with her. And technically, Harry hadn’t sided with her, but what he’d said added some sense of reason to the discussion beyond Etya’s own voice.
“But in order to achieve what you’re suggesting,” Bartholomew said to Etya, “you’re saying we need to first abandon this entire site and then re-establish mining operations farther away from the copalion reserves we’re already on top of.”
Etya nodded. “Precisely. That is the only safe option. I recognize that ACM wishes to streamline its mining approach by taking a more direct path to reach the copalion, and I recognize that such an approach has worked before, on other planets. But the geology of this planet prohibits the direct mining of copalion in large quantities without putting our workers at considerable risk.”
“The company won’t just uproot here and start over a few miles away,” Marylin said. “The economics make no sense. It would take five years just to recoup their investment here, plus another five or more to establish another mine down the street.”
“Andridge chose to trust the initial planetary surveys they conducted. In previous meetings, I have already provided evidence that the initial surveys were thoroughly erroneous, and recent occurrences have proven me correct. I can provide and explain the data again if necessary.”
“I think that’s a leap,” Marilyn said.
“No. It is a fact. How many more workers need to die—” Etya swallowed to subdue the rage building in her chest. “—before Andridge chooses to do the right thing?”
The office remained silent for a long moment. Bartholomew sat in his chair, his elbows on the table, his fingers steepled. Etya watched him calculating, imagined him weighing the lives of hundreds of workers against his salary, bonuses, stock options, and reputation within ACM.
She wanted to climb onto the table, grab him, and choke him to death right then and there.
“Do you have anything else to add, Etya?” he asked.
“No. I have sent my full, updated report to each of you.” She sat in her seat and waited.
Bartholomew shifted his attention to Gary. “Do you have anything to add on the science end, Gary?”
“Yes, actually.” Gary stood, set a drive on the table, and his own holograms replaced Etya’s. “The reason Andridge chose this site was because the initial surveys indicated the surrounding rock would effectively contain the copalion while we worked to mine it. Thus far, that has absolutely been the case.”
Etya turned to him. “You have to be joking. Over a hundred workers perished in the first Sector 6 incident. Now, within the last two weeks, two more have died, and one was severely injured.”
Etya didn’t add that she knew about Kriff Morrison’s recent disappearance, and she didn’t bring up Dave Frankfurt’s disappearance either. Better to not let on how much she knew.
Gary smiled at her, but it wasn’t out of friendship. “You’re right, of course. But those were freak occurrences, not routine situations due to network issues and employee negligence. The seismic activity and radiation levels have spiked on occasion, but by and large, the mine’s integrity has remained strong.
“As such, if we look at these regrettable occurrences as anomalies rather than as routine, or as a ‘new normal,’ and if we can restrain our personal biases—” Gary shot Etya a glare. “—from interfering with the science involved, we can easily justify reopening on Monday with a renewed commitment to safety and excellent productivity.”
Etya bristled and stood, next to Gary. She glowered at him. “Bias? Do you really intend to speak to me of bias, Gary?”
“Alright, Etya.” Bartholomew held up his hand.
“Throughout your entir
e tenure at this mine, ever since I returned from medical leave after the first Sector 6 incident, you have only worked to reinforce Bartholomew’s point of view.”
Gary shook his head and looked away. “That’s absurd.”
“Any of you can check the meeting logs, just as I did.” Etya kept glaring at Gary, but he refused to look back at her. Perhaps he couldn’t handle staring at her half-prosthetic face. “You have undermined my scientific analyses at every single one of these meetings, and as a result, more people have been hurt or died.”
“Three people.” Gary met her eyes. “One injury, two deaths. Hardly a holocaust.”
“Have you ever lost someone, Gary?” Etya asked. “Have you?”
Gary chuckled. “And here’s the bias I mentioned.”
Etya grabbed Gary by his chin and jerked his head so he had to face her. “Have you?”
“Etya, please.” Now Bartholomew stood as well.
She released her grip on Gary, and he stepped back.
“You are way out of line!” Gary snapped.
“Answer the question!” Etya’s voice modulated with a series of electronic tones.
Gary swallowed and looked at her with his chin held high. “Of course I have. We all have. But I don’t let it affect my capacity for sound judgment.”
Etya wanted to rip every last red hair from his stupid head, including the retro mustache under his nose. “My judgment has never been more sound. Mark my words, all of you: If we reopen on Monday, it will not be long before something else happens. Another death, another accident—something. The data is all there in my report. We are risking too much.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Bartholomew glared daggers at her. “Sit down, Etya.”
“No. I have nothing more to say, and there is nothing else worth listening to in this echo chamber.” Etya pushed her chair aside and stormed toward the door. On her way out, she stopped and eyed Vanessa. “You have a stain on your blouse, my dear.”