Дэниел Смит - Below Zero

‘But there’s something else,’ Dad said. ‘Every day, the base uploads a back-up copy of the data on to an independent system. Something that isn’t connected to the main systems. ViBac.’

‘ViBac?’ Zak asked.

‘The Virtually Indestructible Back-up System,’ Mum said. ‘That thing is fireproof, waterproof, able to withstand extreme cold; it’s… well, it’s virtually indestructible.’

‘So?’ May said. ‘How will that help?’

‘So there might be something on there that can tell us what happened. Everything gets uploaded to it. Everything .’

‘They keep it here.’ Dad went to the far wall and tapped the map still stuck there. ‘It’s no more than a hundred metres. We’ll be fine.’

Zak came closer to study the map. From a door at the back of The Hub, an open walkway crossed the ice at an angle between the North and East Tunnels. It led to a building labelled as ‘Refuge’. There was also a set of steps at the far end, like a fire escape leading down to the ice.

‘Some of the buildings are kept separate,’ Dad said. ‘In case anything happens to the rest of the base.’

‘Like what?’

‘Fire. That kind of thing. Refuge is basically a last resort. A self-contained area that isn’t directly connected to the base.’

‘Last resort?’ May said. ‘So maybe that’s where everyone went? Dima too?’

‘Maybe,’ Dad agreed. ‘Apart from Storage and Power, there’s nowhere else they could be.’

‘And you’re sure it’s no more than a hundred metres?’ Zak asked. ‘It’s proper freezing out there.’

‘Then we’d better wrap up,’ Mum told him.

Zak pulled on his gloves, secured his hood and tightened the scarf across his mouth in preparation for the sub-zero conditions outside. While the others finished doing the same, he pressed his face against the small window in the top of the door and peered out along the walkway. ‘Still windy out there,’ he said.

‘Let’s just get it done.’ May kept glancing at the door to the North Tunnel a few paces to her left. ‘Right now, anywhere feels better than here.’

‘Everyone ready?’ Dad pulled on his goggles and looked back at them.

‘No,’ Zak and May said in unison.

Dad hit the button and when the door swished open, wind rushed into The Hub.

‘Keep hold of the railing,’ Dad said. ‘I’ll go first, then Zak, then May. Evelyn, you bring up the rear.’

‘Right behind you, little brother.’ May’s mouth was hidden beneath her scarf so her words came out muffled. ‘Try to stay on your feet.’

‘And you.’ Zak stepped out on to the walkway and peered down at the ice several metres below.

‘Keep going,’ May told him. ‘Don’t stop.’

Exposed to the intense cold, Zak held tight to the railing and followed Dad. The walkway groaned and creaked under their feet. The wind was still strong, but the worst of it had passed, and in the hazy glow from the base lights, Zak could see the structures of Outpost Zero and the immediate land around them.

To his left was the North Tunnel – blue on the outside as well as the inside – and the red Drone Bay at the end of it. It looked bigger than it had seemed when he was inside, and there was something unreal about it, like it was a model, or a special effect from a movie. Ahead, Refuge was also red. Close to the buildings the base lights reflected from the icy white landscape, creating a cocoon for Outpost Zero, but further away the light faded to a crushing darkness. The kind of darkness that inspired fear.

Zak had known they were isolated, but for the first time since arriving, he could actually see how isolated they were. And now it felt more intense. Heavier. Like it was weighing down on him.

May tapped him on the shoulder. ‘All right?’ She showed him a gloved thumbs-up, so he returned the gesture.

Before they reached the end of the walkway, they passed a set of steps on the right, leading back down to the ice, then a few seconds more and they were there, at the door to one of the last places Dima and the others might be. Dad hit the button on the door and went into Refuge, switching on the lights. He pushed back his hood and pulled the scarf and goggles away from his face. ‘It’s this way.’

They filed along a short corridor, passing a couple of storerooms filled with cans and boxes, and a tiny room with a single bed pushed against the wall.

‘Here it is.’ Dad went into a small version of the Communications room – complete with computers and keyboards and radio equipment. All the screens were blank.

Dad moved the chair and tapped a bright orange box under the desk. ‘Meet ViBac.’

ViBac was made of metal and looked heavy. It was about the size of a two-drawer filing cabinet, and had no buttons or lights on it, just a single USB-C port. It took Mum a matter of seconds to connect it to a laptop that was on the desk, and after a short wait, an icon for the ViBac appeared on screen. Mum double-clicked. As simple as that, and a window popped open on the laptop, with a list of folders. Right at the bottom of the list was a single video file.

‘That was yesterday.’ Zak pointed at the screen. ‘Open that one.’

Mum clicked the file and the screen went black. A timecode appeared in the top left corner with the date from two days ago. After a couple of seconds, an image came into focus and Zak watched as the camera swept around The Hub.

It was different. The room he knew was deserted and bloodstained, like something out of a bad dream, but on-screen it actually looked normal – like it was a half-decent place to hang out. There was a hubbub of voices in the background and the occasional clacking sound. As the camera swept the room, Zak saw that the sound was coming from a game of pool between a man and a woman. They were both dressed in blue tracksuits, each with a white stripe running down the right side. Their names were printed on the chest, but the image wasn’t good enough for Zak to read them. A boy, sixteen or seventeen years old, with his hair cut short like a soldier’s, was leaning against the table, drinking from a can of Coke. He was also wearing a blue tracksuit.

‘Nice outfits,’ May muttered.

When the camera focused on the boy, he lowered the can and said, ‘ Get lost, Diaz. You should be long gone by now. ’

‘ They just can’t bear to leave us. ’ Someone spoke off-camera, and the operator – Diaz, Zak guessed – swivelled round, taking in more of The Hub.

There were other people there; sitting at the tables, chatting, eating. A couple of teenagers were lounging on the L-shaped sofa playing a video game.

The camera settled on a woman standing in the kitchen, stirring a hot drink. ‘ You need to go ,’ she said. ‘ Twenty-four hours outside the bowl, remember? The sooner you leave, the sooner you get back . Magpie’s waiting .’

‘That’s Commander Miller.’ Dad pointed at the woman on screen. ‘Diaz and someone else must be on their way out of the bowl for a collection trip. It’s standard stuff – everyone has to learn to survive in the MRV for a twenty-four-hour period, as if they’re going out to collect samples on Mars. “Out of the bowl” means outside this area – the base is in a kind of a bowl, but there’s one shallow side where you can get up and out.’

‘And who’s Magpie?’ Zak asked.

‘Not who,’ Dad replied. ‘What. “Magpie” is what they call the MRV. It’s a scientist joke. Magpies are supposed to like collecting stuff.’

Scientist humour. Yeah, ha ha.

The camera panned further round until it focused on a middle-aged, fair-haired man with a close-cut beard. He was dressed in ECW gear, and standing by the front door of The Hub. The camera zoomed in on the name printed on the chest of his jacket.