‘You know anything about the Mormons?’
Rem said no, and Sutler drew his attention to the plan in front of him.
‘They built three cities. The last one at Salt Lake. Each city designed on a grid, the houses set on rectangular plots. Where there’s a crossroad the houses sit together. See? With this kind of design you can keep building as far as you like. It won’t appear crowded.’
‘And that’s what they want? HOSCO? You’re designing buildings?’
‘Then there’s this.’ Sutler drew out a second plan. ‘In Morocco the houses are communal and surround a private inner courtyard, there isn’t much in terms of public space. It’s a different idea. Each building provides shade so the streets are constantly in shadow. Traditionally, they’re not much more than one or two storeys high.’ Sutler set the two designs side by side. ‘Which do you think is easier to police?’
‘The Mormon.’
Sutler nodded.
‘It’s simple. It’s clean. For security it makes sense, but that means you can’t have as much determination over the environment. This is just a desert with houses, some shops, an airport. The closer the houses, the more compact, the more potential trouble, but also the more control over the environment.’
Rem understood the problem, but couldn’t see the point of the lecture. ‘So, they’re building a new camp? An airport?’
‘Something like that.’ Sutler picked up a cardboard tube from beside his chair, turned it upside down to draw out a bottle of scotch.
‘Where?’
Again, Sutler wouldn’t give details. ‘All they need is confirmation that the site is suitable.’ Sutler offered the bottle to Rem. ‘At the moment it’s all about making sure everything gets onto the map. Mines. Armament. Disused sites.’ Sutler waited for Rem to take a sip.
‘I used to live in England.’ Rem handed back the bottle. ‘This is going back some years. Your accent. It’s northern. I’m right? Right? I lived in London with a plasterer from Northumbria and another man from Yorkshire.’
‘Neither.’
‘So further north?’
Sutler shook his head. ‘Would be Scotland.’
‘But northern, no?’
‘No.’
The men sat in silence and the temperature began to drop.
‘So what did you read about HOSCO closing the camp?’
Sutler looked directly at Rem.
‘You really don’t know about this?’ Sutler’s smile looked a little too comfortable.
‘We don’t hear much.’
‘It’s not just you. They’re all closing down. HOSCO is facing criticism. Soldiers are getting sick and they’re blaming the fires.’
Rem said they’d keep doing what they were doing until they weren’t paid or the trucks stopped coming. ‘But like I said,’ Rem stood up, ‘keep it to yourself.’
As Rem left, Sutler reminded him to speak with Watts.
* * *
He found Watts lying on his bunk and realized that he had not come out that morning to assist with the fires. He let the matter slide and asked if Watts could contact Markland. ‘Find out what you can about this man, Sutler. Stephen something Sutler? See what he’s here for, and be subtle. He wants to make a call. International. When he comes to you make sure it looks like an effort.’
Eyes closed, Watts said he’d see what he could do.
‘Good. There’s beer in it.’
Watts sat up, amused. ‘I asked already. I spoke with Markland and I asked who this person was. He said he didn’t know and hadn’t heard about him. Whatever he’s here for has nothing to do with Southern-CIPA. It’s all private-sector-contract related. HOSCO like us. Whatever he’s doing they’ve yet to hear about themselves. There’s a big fat disconnect between them and HOSCO. Neither really knows what’s going on.’
Rem agreed that this was probably what was happening.
‘It’s a game. Southern-CIPA didn’t know we were coming so they sent the translator. HOSCO didn’t know about the translator, so they sent the Brit. This is how they work. I’d say this is business as usual. You asked him what he’s doing?’
‘I asked.’
Watts paused, now curious. ‘He said nothing about why he’s here?’ He couldn’t make the question casual.
‘Not to my ears. If you hear something, I’d like to know. We’re a thousand miles from anywhere. We burn every kind of shit known to man, but it’s still shit. So why would HOSCO send someone else?’
Rem returned to the Quonset to let Sutler know about his call. Returning to his cabin he asked himself what he was doing here. Never mind Sutler. Was there really nothing else he could have found for himself? Geezler hadn’t answered his messages for days and wasn’t available for calls.
* * *
Watts secured a signal, it wasn’t strong he explained, as it was rabbit-hopped across the desert, every fifty miles they had an uplink that would boost and propel it, but routed through the Engineers’ line, it was shunted station to station all the way to Amrah, sometimes it went down. It was the best he could do. (This, Rem knew, was nonsense, but sounded feasible enough.) The satellite system frequently failed. Atmospherics. Interference. It shouldn’t happen, but it did, and Watts had no idea why.
Sutler asked if the line was secure and Watts shook his head. ‘No, it’s pumped way too high. Anyone with a bucket or too many fillings can pick it up.’ He could do better later, if Sutler wanted to wait. But right now, if the call was important, this was what they had.
* * *
C,
Now you’ve done it –
JW
Mrs Gunnersen,
You have no right to send these messages and stir up trouble in the way you are carrying on. We have no wish to hear from someone who has so much hate.
D. Samuels on behalf of Doug & Marsha Samuels
Dear Cathy,
I have read and given great consideration to the letter that you sent recently, and I have followed and read the articles that you provided in your message — but has something happened that I am unaware of? Is there something that has started this enquiry? I don’t understand.
I don’t understand why they would send people to these places if they are so dangerous? It makes no sense to me that they would behave like this, and I am confused by what you say about the camp being closed. I can’t see how this helps the company at all? I can not accept that they would contravene health and safety regulations which must be in place?
There is so much that is confusing. I do not like conversing in this way and would appreciate speaking directly with you. Could I ask you to call me? This is upsetting and disturbing.
Marianne Clark
Cathy made several attempts to speak with Marianne Clark but received no answer. Finally, she called early in the morning and caught her.
‘But they are there because your husband selected them? Am I right? Why would he do this if he knew that the work was dangerous? I don’t understand?’
‘He didn’t know. I don’t think anyone knew what was involved. This isn’t only happening at Camp Liberty, this is how they destroy all waste. Very few places have incinerators.’
‘So why don’t they build more?’
‘I think they haven’t properly considered the problem. Maybe they have, but it’s too large to do anything else.’
‘But why? I don’t understand?’
How should she explain this? ‘The troops and the contractors have to bring everything in. The country has nothing. It doesn’t produce anything. All of the bases have a McDonald’s, a KFC, some of the camps have shops and malls. Everything is taken out there, the goods, the people who work in the shops, and then they also have to be looked after, fed, housed.’
‘It doesn’t make sense? Why would they need a shopping mall?’