The Facility

Alexander got up from his warm and comfortable bed, plugged the sinkhole and ran some water. Looking at himself in his small rounded mirror, he caressed his beard and felt rather happy with his look. He didn't look a day over forty, but in reality, he was a great deal older than that.

He took a birdbath in the sink and made himself a coffee. Right before exiting his quarters, he made another "X" on the calendar, reminding him of how long he had before getting reunited with his daughters and his newborn great-grandson — April 18, 1997 — two more weeks, he calculated. He then exited his room onto his small private balcony. The air outside was very cool; the water around him was all of a crystal clear blue and, besides the occasional birds making ripples on the surface, the water was perfectly still, reflecting the mountains standing all around the fjord like a mirror. Alexander took a deep breath, enjoying the majestic view of silver-grey mountains covered with pure white snow, which contrasted with the cloudless sky.

He took a moment to look at his watch, indicating 0700 hours and, with the precision of an atomic clock, his communication device, a box the size of a deck of cards, emitted a soft chime.

"Is everything in place?" the man asked, his voice so clear he could have been standing in the room next to him.

"Now it is," Alexander replied.

"Yeah, it was touch and go for a while. Two years of planning almost wasted in a single action."

"I know. If I had not been there, they would have continued further downstream, and we would have missed our chance," commented Alexander.

"It would have been a shame for you to have seen those years gone in smoke for nothing."

"True. The fact is, I can afford these years, and then some more. The rest of the world cannot."

"What about that new recruit of yours?" the man continued.

"Low, but that doesn't matter; the system will adjust for that. My Norwegian friend, however, is among the highest we found. We should be fine."

"It's your show."

"We still have a plan B, but let's hope it doesn't come to that. Our people really feel that we shouldn't dictate the future of this one, and rather get others a chance to prove themselves."

"I agree, you know that, Alex. Good luck."

"Thanks," finished Alexander as he said goodbye and replaced the communicator on his hip.

He absorbed the view for a few more moments, took another deep breath and filled his lungs with fresh air. Then, listening to the sound of his growling stomach, he started making his way down to the eating area. The cooks were already busy making breakfast for everyone on board. Feeding forty-five people daily was not an easy task, mainly because the crew was composed of those coming from many different countries.

Even though Alexander was the highest-ranking man on board, he had always made a point not to influence the chef to create dishes to suit his North American taste. His only particularity when it came to food, compared to the rest of the crew, was the fact that he was a vegetarian.

He generally preferred eating alone while reading progress reports and marine charts, not engaging more than necessary with the crew for fear of revealing too much of himself. But this morning, the crew seemed restless, and Alexander had to answer a myriad of questions, all cumulating to the same thing — when the drilling would resume. Everyone had just returned from three days of shore leave after a piece of equipment had failed and replacement parts had to be flown in and driven to the site. The briefing this morning was rather short; they had not changed drilling location since the malfunction occurred, and everybody was professional enough to know what had to be done. Before long, a deafening buzzer sounded announcing the beginning of the day's work.

The Roughnecks were already busy placing the Kelly table, adding the drill shaft one by one like kids stacking Lego blocks and setting them solidly into position as they disappeared underneath the platform. At the end of the shaft was an annular diamond-impregnated drill bit attached to the end of hollow drill rods to cut a cylindrical core of solid rocks at the bottom of the fjord. It was a dangerous job that needed constant vigilance and complete trust among coworkers. As soon as the setup was completed, they started rotating the table, and the shaft started spinning.

Minutes went by as the drill slowly descended, new rows added to extend its reach all the way to the bottom and beyond. As soon as it reached the hard surface, the rotation decreased slightly due to the pressure exerted as the diamonds were eating away at the rocky bottom — or so they imagined. It took only moments for the Roughnecks to realize that something was wrong. The table was turning at an average speed, but the shaft remained at the same depth, which clearly indicated that the bit was not boring through the rocks at all. Instead of the astonishment and puzzlement one would expect, a man started laughing.

"Asker, still hungover from last night's binge?" laughed Didrik, one of the roughnecks.

"Shit, if you're about to suggest that I forgot to attach the diamond drill bit — the answer is obviously 'No.' It takes two guys to fix the damn thing, and you were all around me when I did it with Claudio over there," replied Asker, clearly annoyed at the implication. "It might have something to do with the downward pressure. We had the same problem three days ago, but when we decided to rev it up, the engine seized."

"We'd better call the engineers on this. Although I really enjoyed the long weekend and that little village where I promised one of the local girls I'd go back at my next shore leave, I would rather grab a big fat paycheck," said Didrik as he moved out of the way.

"Rather than her tiny ass," added Asker, grinning. "But speaking of ass, I'd like to protect my own and raise the drill to see if indeed we were not all hallucinating and check if we actually secured the diamond bit at the end of this thing." He knew that the statement and the worries were unnecessary. In fifteen years on the job, it had never happened. Diamonds made holes through anything. That was it.

Twenty minutes later, the diamond drill bit finally emerged from the water below. Water was dripping on the equipment as it rose onto the platform. Baffling but not unexpected, the drill bit was indeed attached at the end of the shaft. Asker, with the help of another roughneck, unfastened the drill's two attachments and turned the massive drill bit upside down, sitting it on the deck for everyone to see. They all looked at Asker, who was as white as snow. The surface had been totally obliterated; all that remained was an absolutely smooth surface.

An oh-shit look seemed to be the common theme on all their faces.

"These are microfine industrial-grade diamonds. As far as I know, this is the hardest thing known to man. What the hell could have possibly dulled them so quickly?" asked another roughneck, knowing the answer as much as the next guy.

"In theory, nothing. On top of that, the water is freezing, particularly at the bottom, and the cooling system was engaged and running properly, so we can rule out overheating. But that's the only explanation I have," offered Didrik.

"The depth has nothing to do with it. The fjord has no thermocline, but the water is indeed at 2°C, and the cooling system was turned on, for little it can do at these cold temperatures anyway. Besides, when we reached the bottom, the drill could not have been turning for more than one to two minutes, which is not enough to dull a diamond drill bit. We all know that these bits are designed to take severe punishment, boring holes more than 150 metres in solid rock before slowing down," explained Asker matter-of-factly.

"Thank you, Asker, for being thorough," observed Didrik, forcing a smile to hide his nervousness. "I'm not afraid to say it. In my long career doing this, I have seen a lot of bizarre problems, but nothing like this."

"Same here," they all agreed in unison.

"Okay, let's bring this to the briefing room and have a chat with the eggheads and see what they have to say about it," finished Didrik, looking puzzled by the morning's event. As he walked away, leaving the crew to secure the drill, he pondered the meaning of the riddle. Nothing was harder than a diamond — that was a fact. It was also a fact that the Earth was once believed to be flat, he thought.