The foreman's cramped office was a boxy affair, its walls fashioned from weathered steel panels that rested upon a stout foundation which met the sands below though the pair of long skis that acted as its base. This unusual setup was common out here as it allowed buildings to move when necessary. A brief set of three iron steps led to its entrance where a cantankerous steel door awaited.
“We…” Lily started as she burst into the room with Arnold in tow, the old door crying out like a disgruntled elder with each adjustment it was forced to undergo.
“You what?” Bernard interrupted, glaring at them from behind his dented metal desk, it's aged surface pock marked here and there with bits of rust. “Broke three windows in town? Knocked poor Brendine’s grandmother’s ashes from her mantle? Shook the Fisherman’s Catch so hard that Joel cut two thirds of the way through his thumb?”
“I...” Lily attempted to interject.
But Bernard continued his tirade, “What the hell were you doing? No. Thinking. What the hell were you thinking? I was told you were smart?!”
“It worked though… It worked! Look!” Lily unfurled the printed results onto Bernard's desk, inadvertently dislodging a significant portion of its previous contents which cascaded to the floor in a racket of thuds and cracks.
“A god damned maniac!” Bernard sprang from his chair in a huff, his blood pressure mirroring his aggravated stance.
“No! Look!” Lily pointed to the spot labeled 998, her finger frantically tapping at it like a woodpecker's beak. “It’s right there.”
Bernard's gaze fell upon the map. Its appearance only served to reinforce the notion that Lily might indeed be a maniac. The map was a disheveled mess, marred by an incomprehensible web of lines and numbers that sprawled across its expanse. To Bernard's untrained perception, the scene resembled nothing more than a delusional individual bursting in to insist on the utmost urgency of interpreting tea leaves.
“A shitty picture?” Bernard scoffed.
“No, look…” Lily growled in frustration, “… okay.” She took a deep breath to compose herself. “This is the ground under our feet. See. The numbers down the side show the depth of the reading. These other lines separate similar readings into zones, and then each zone is marked with a number denoting its density.”
Bernard stared at the sheet unimpressed, “Okay, and what’s so special about THAT specific zone?” he gestured towards the area Lily had nearly pecked a hole though.
“998!” Lily exclaimed excitedly. “Look, I know you think our science is bullshit.”
“Yes.” Bernard stated flatly.
“BUT!” she interjected, “The only bullshit thing about it was the canon out there, and that bullshit WORKED! The sensors have been tested over and over again in our lab! We’ve spent nearly a decade tuning them to detect one thing!”
“That bullshit damaged the town!” shouted Bernard.
“Lightly…” stated Lily somewhat sheepishly, “but it’s worth it. 998 is water. All of that is water!”
Bernard leaned forward for a better look, “You’re telling me that ALL of that is water?”
“Yes.” Lily confirmed.
“But it is off the edge of the map. That’s too big; there is no way your readings are right.”
“But they are! They have to be!”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“That would be more water than we’ve drilled up in 150 years COMBINED. Your machine is flawed. Simple as that. It couldn’t read that deep. You set it up wrong. And now… what? You want me to blow the last of this town’s budget on a drill project twice as deep as we’ve ever gone!? As anyone has ever gone?!”
“I’m telling you! It’s there!” Lily begged.
“It’s not.” Bernard slammed his fist down on his metal desk with a harsh clang before composing himself, “Besides, we could drill four to six standard wells for the same materials that this job would cost. It’s absurd. If the ghosts in your machine were 50 meters deep, we could talk. But 850? You’re mad. Get out of here Lily.”
“NO! You… you…” Lily steamed but managed to pull herself together before she said something she’d regret “It’s THERE! I was sent here to HELP you find water. Water you’ve spent 8 months fruitlessly searching for. Now you have an empire’s worth and you’re just going to pass that up?”
Bernard responded calmly, “From where I sit, I’ve got a burnt piece of paper created by someone who is only here in the first place because of some corporate turds who couldn’t drill their way out of a bag of sand.”
Lily glared at Bernard hard, the cadence of her voice changing to the slow, measured style of a person trying to explain something complex without absolutely losing their shit. “I know you don’t like me. But look at the chart. Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock. It’s all rock. You could poke fifty holes in the ground around here and all you’ll find is more rock. Isn’t that your experience so far?!”
“Well…” Bernard paused.
“You know it’s true, Bernard. I’ve been here for two months. I’ve witnessed your last two drills. All rock, no water. And that’s not counting the four previous holes that I wasn’t here for plus the two other crews who have already left in failure.”
Bernard looked at Lily with skepticism, but there was a hint of doubt in his mind. Perhaps Lily and her insane invention were right. He had been poking holes all over the surrounding area for nearly a whole year, and so far, it was all just rock down to 250 meters like her so-called map indicated. But 850 meters? That was WAY too deep. The whole project only had enough funding for 6 more months at most, and they were down to their last four drill bits, each of which was only rated for the standard 250-meter digs that company policy had dictated for generations.
Bernard let out a sigh. “Look, even if I wanted to believe you. If you’re wrong. If I dedicate everything we have left to take a shot at this and all we find down there is more rock? I’ll be a laughing stock. I’ll never lead a dig again. Me, my family, we’ll all be completely screwed.”
Lily’s glare softened. She “got” Bernard’s predicament; it was the exact same as hers just from another angle. Results or nothing. If she was wrong, if her sensors really were flawed, she’d be relegating Bernard from the decent living of a drill team foreman to the life of a pariah.
“But if she’s right,” Arnold chimed in, breaking his silence, “You’ll be a legend.”
Bernard sank into his chair with a silent sigh, his weight pressing into the worn reptile skins that enveloped the cushioned foam that gave it shape. The aged hinge that connected the seat to its legs groaned in protest under his substantial frame. With deliberate slowness, he pulled the map across his desk, drawing it nearer so that his gaze could traverse the sprawling expanse labeled with a diminutive "998." Such small font for something so important he thought.
“You’re sure about this Lily?”
“Yes.” Lily responded without hesitation.
“So sure that you’re willing to risk my reputation? My family's well-being?”
“Yes.”
“You remember that I have a wife and two children, correct?”
“I’m aware.”
Bernard’s mind wandered back through a lifetime of digs. Each one done to the exact same specifications. Ten bits, ten holes. Each hole drilled to 250 meters in a predefined pattern at a predefined angle which had long ago been determined by someone somewhere to be optimal for maximizing a crew’s chances. “Fine… We’ll do it.”
“You will?” Lilly was stunned. He said yes? What? How?
Bernard nodded slowly, “But if you’re wrong, Lily… I’m going to throw you down that hole myself.”
“If I’m wrong, I’ll jump in it for you.” Lily replied.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Now get out of my office before I come to my senses and change my mind.”
As the office door screamed its way shut behind the departing pair, Bernard reached into his desk drawer and retrieved a bottle of his finest vintage—a rancid pale green concoction distilled from mashed cacti and whatever trace of moisture could be salvaged. Unscrewing its lid, he took a prolonged swig, the potent elixir's robust flavor contorting his features into an array of strained expressions as it assailed his tongue. "My wife is going to kill me."