Colonel Solam felt… Odd. He had just woken up, but he didn’t feel refreshed. But he was wasn’t tired either. Just somewhat, de-energised. He focused his attention on his surroundings. The ceiling above him wasn’t what he usually saw when he usually woke, but it wasn’t entirely unfamiliar. The mattress beneath his was narrower and firmer than his usual bedding. His nostrils couldn’t help but detect the scent of sanitising solutions. He could hear devices beeping and people milling around him everywhere. His memories slowly aligned with his senses. He was in the infirmary.

His memories returned to him in disjointed fragments: An explosion. A desperate plea for aid from someone, for someone. The severe discomfort of being intubated. Flashes of his comrades coming to see him while he was far worse for the wear. Storms, how long was he out? Bels? Eighth-seasons? He had no way of knowing at the moment.

“Oh, feeling better?”

A familiar voice fluttered over to him. He turned to face its source. Oh, right, it was Pito.

“Professor Pito…” he tried to say. The sounds that escaped his mouth was closer to a groggy, slurred mumble. Solam cleared his throat and swallowed before trying again. “I’ve felt worse.”

She looked up from the book she was reading. “Really?” asked the coddled linguist that had no span-rule to measure the actual severity of a military lifestyle.

“No, not really.” The colonel confessed with a lightly painful chuckle.

“Oh--!” the linguist replied with her own chuckle that seemed annoyingly free of pain.

The pair remained quiet for a while.

“So…” said the recovering colonel, puncturing the awkward silence. “I guess your pet frost-fae saved us.”

Professor Pito rolled her eyes. “Adwin is no one’s pet.”

“No, I suppose he’s not.” said Solam. Then he went silent again for a short while. “Listen, I’m sorry for bothering you before. And I shouldn’t have brought up…” another awkward pause. “… Yeah. Sorry. I was being petty.”

The linguist let the officer’s apology hover for a bit before responding. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you and accused you of such… Violent intentions.”

The colonel endured another aching chuckle. “Oh, what did you call us again? ‘jack-booted thugs?’”

“I said I was sorry…” Pito pouted.

The colonel’s laughter thankfully abated. “I’m also sorry about… Before.”

Professor Pito let that second, deeper apology hang in the air for a bit as well. “Yeah. Me too.”

» » »

Technician Zaro Pendol’s crest hung low as he was marched towards the general’s office. Why was this happening to him? Just a bundle of bels ago he was having a friendly disagreement with his partner, Technician Caseek about whether or not a dead-leg of a pipe had something in it or not. Just a clawful of driks later there was a massive explosion in a nearby canteen. A lot of people we injured in the blast, apparently including one of the general’s top officers. Thankfully, him and his partner were unharmed. There was an intense investigation after the event, and many workers were interviewed as part of the process. Apparently, he and his partner’s perspective seemed to be of particular interest, and they were asked to repeat their account several times. Eventually, Chief Nalor himself interviewed him, and now he was being brought before General Hydor herself.

He couldn’t help but be anxious. Why was he singled out like this? Did they think that he responsible for the explosion somehow? Did they think him a saboteur, or had they determined that he was negligent? He really didn’t know what to think.

As he was brought into the office he immediately noticed the general, seated behind her desk and glowering severely. The chief was also there, supervising some other technicians as they finished setting up an overhead projector machine. Even Researcher Skai was there. When Nalor noticed him he motioned to address the room.

“Ah, Pendol’s here. We can start any time now.” The Chief Technician said.

General Hydor turned her head ever so slightly to face the poor, terrified technician, her dire countenance remaining solidly fixed on her features. She then returned her gaze to Nalor. “Very well. Proceed.”

Chief Nalor signalled one of his aides, and the room’s lighting was dimmed as the windows and door were closed. The projector whirred to life as a screen taking up almost a full wall of the room was illuminated.

“Clear Skies everyone, and thank you for meeting with us at this bel. We are gathered here to discuss and hopefully clarify the causes behind the recent explosion at Canteen Two.” he gestured to one of his technicians. “First slide please.”

A technician slid a clear sheet of material onto the projector’s glass platen, and a diagram showed up on the screen. It was a simplified schematic of the piping layout from the section he and Caseek were working in back then.

“This is a simplified depiction of the water, steam and natural gas lines in Section Zero dash Eight dash Seven. This was the was the way the process pipes were originally routed when it was commissioned almost two-hundred and fifty-six seasons ago.” Nalor used a quarter-span long wand to point at a particular section of the pipes and valves in the centre of the image. “As you can see, there were four gas lines in this area here. Next slide please.”

The new slide was practically identical to the first one. In fact, Pendol had almost missed the subtle differences at first glance.

“Just over sixty-four seasons ago, there were extensive retrofits throughout the compound. Some heaters and boilers were replaced with electric models, and so the two leftmost gas lines were condemned. These dead-legs were closed and permanently locked shut.” Nalor explained, pointing to the lines on the diagram that were overlaid with blue ink markings.”Next slide please.”

The next image wasn’t a schematic at all, but instead a wide bar graph that showed a regularly rising and falling value of some sort. It almost looked like a horizontally stretched out sine-wave.

“This is a graph showing the external temperature measurements at Fort Greywood over the past thirty-two seasons. As you can see, during cool seasons, it regularly drops below zero pihts; the freezing point of water. Next slide?”

Another graph was displayed. It indicated another value that remained almost uniform throughout a period of time, except for a brief period at the right-most side of the graph.

“This is a graph showing the average amount of persons working and visiting Fort Greywood over the past thirty-two seasons. As you can see, the amount has dramatically increased in the most recent seasons. This is, of course, due to the presence and activities of projects Frost-Fae, Dark-Light, and, most recently, Rutil’proh.”

Chief Nalor then turned to face the audience, the ensuring that he could be seen in the light from the overhead projector. “You may not have realised it yet, but we have just explored the three main causes for the explosion at Canteen Two: The decommissioned gas lines, the frigid climate in this part of the country, and the increasing population at this compound.” He turned back to face the screen. “Next slide please.”

This time, the displayed image was something that Pendol recognised.

“This is a photograph of Valve Zero dash Eight dash Seven dash Zero Zero Three. It controlled the process flow to one of the previously mentioned decommissioned fuel lines; Pipe Zero dash Eight dash Seven dash Zero One Three. That was the very same line that exploded.” The chief technician paused in the wake of a wave of confused mutterings from the group gathered before him. “Technician Zaro Pendol, please come forward.” beckoned the chief.

Well, this was it. Whatever dark-ward fate awaited him was about to be revealed. The technician stepped towards his chief with the bearing of a condemned man. When he got close enough to Nalor the more experienced man placed a gentle claw on his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “Just tell them the same thing you told me and everything will be fine.” That was somewhat gratifying to hear. Pendol relaxed, very slightly, and nodded. Even so, he still made every effort to look anywhere except towards the general.

“Technician Pendol,” started Chief Nalor. “Where were you eight driks before the explosion?”

“I was working at Process Control; Sector Zero dash Eight dash Seven dash Zero One.” the anxious technician answered.

“Did that Sector include the measurement and control instruments for Pipe Zero dash Eight dash Seven dash Zero One Three?”

“Not entirely chief.”

“Please elaborate on that, technician.”

“There were no measurement instruments attached to those pipes, chief. I was told they were repurposed for other sectors on the compound. However, the valve remained.”

“Have you ever tampered with that valve?”

“No chief.”

“Have any of the other technicians tampered with that valve in the past eight seasons?”

“I do not believe so, chief.”

“Why don’t you believe so, technician?”

“Because that valve was locked in the ‘close’ position with a system of chains, locks, and tags. Even if someone had managed acquire the master key and open the lock, or cut the chains themselves, the tag would have been broken in the process. Part of our regular maintenance involves inspecting, and sometimes replacing the tag.”

“So we can rest assured that there was no external tampering on the valve.” The chief technician’s comment was directed more towards the audience than the junior technician.

Even so, Pendol felt it prudent to confirm the statement. “Yes chief.”

“Now then, Technician Pendol, did you notice anything odd about that alleged ‘dead-leg’ pipe?”

“Yes chief. I had come to believe that there was some kind of fluid in the pipe.”

“A fluid? In the locked off ‘dead-leg’ of the pipe?” Chief Nalor made a meal of pointing out how improbable that situation was. “How could you possibly come to such a conclusion, technician?”

“While working on adjacent instruments my wrench accidentally knocked the ‘dead-leg’ pipe. The sound it made was closer to the sound of a pipe filled with water than a pipe with nothing in it.”

“So you believed that the pipe was filled with water?”

“I didn’t know for sure, chief. I just knew it had ‘something’ in it.”

“Do you think it possible that your work, or the work of other technicians, for all those accumulated seasons, could have damaged the pipe?”

“No chief. I don’t think so. Those pipes are made of a very strong alloy of steel. They can withstand very high pressures and high impact forces.” The junior technician, on some kind of a whim, suddenly felt the need to voice an errant thought that flapped through his mind. “I don’t even think Adwin could damage those pipes.”

A small, but not imperceptible wash of chuckles rippled through the audience. The pleased reaction compelled Pendol to scan the faces of the people in the room. That was a mistake. His eyes met the general’s, and she was decidedly not laughing. The technician quickly turned his gaze downward again.

“Thank you, Technician Pendol. That will be all.” said Chief Nalor, dismissing him with a casual hand on his shoulder. “That was great. Well done.” the chief whispered at him once more.

The chief technician again addressed the audience. “So, we now have testimony that something was amiss with this particular length of piping. Somehow, something had gotten into this pipe. Next slide please.”

The next slide was a photograph that showed the inside of a damaged, closed valve… Actually, no. On closer inspection, that valve wasn’t quite closed.

“This is a picture of the actual internal conditions of Valve Zero dash Eight dash Seven dash Zero Zero Three.” Chief Nalor used his wand to point at a small sliver of material wedged right next to the valve. “And this, is a piece of metal that was only discovered after the explosion. This tiny obstruction allowed a small amount of gas to continuously enter the decommissioned fuel line.” Another wave of mutters passed through the room. “Next slide please.”

The next image displayed was a close up image of a broken piece of piping. Cracks were clearly visible on the inner layers of the conduit.

“This is a surviving part of the pipe that exploded. Please pay attention to the cracks on the inside surface of the pipe. We believe these are the result of vapour in the gas condensing into water, then freezing into ice during the colder periods of the cold seasons. Some of these cracks extended to the outer surface of the pipes, creating paths that both water and gas could leak through. Next slide please.”

The screen now displayed a picture of a damaged electrical junction box. One of the screws for the cover had broken off, and so it had slipped to the side slightly, exposing wires, connections and lugs. All exposed metal pieces were corroded in some way.

“Due to the increased population at the compound more stress had been put on the electrical systems. The fluctuating temperatures in this region have also compounded the damage to the electrical systems. Please note that this is a photograph of a junction box from a completely different part of the compound… Next slide?”

The image that now appeared on the screen was a wall with a large hole blown in it, rimmed by angry, black scorch marks. This was clearly the source of the main blast of the explosion.

“From our schematics, and what remains of the wire conduits in this area, we know that there was an electrical junction box somewhere in this general vicinity. We believe that the junction box was in a similar, corroded state as the previous image, and that gas from the piping leak was ignited by a random electrical spark.”

Another rumble of concern leaked out from the audience, which was soon interrupted by the general.

“That’s it?!” Hydor all but squawked. “No sabotage, no personnel accidents, no gross negligence, just… The effects of random chance and seasons of accumulated decay?!”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am.” replied Chief Nalor. “These things happen sometimes. I’ve seen it a clawful of times myself. All we can do is use these kinds of events to improve our safety practices. I’ve already written up the basics of a few new protocols for the Royal Health and Safety Board to review. I already have a team checking on the conditions of pipes and valves throughout the compound.”

General Hydor remained silent for several long, uncomfortable clegs. Pendol chanced another glance at her. She looked defeated somehow… Deflated, even. Then suddenly she issued a command that sounded more like a hiss than words:

“Everyone, dismissed.”