Mimicry

Chapter 1 - Sentinel

The sun was setting on the remote island of Bouvet, casting long, eerie shadows across the rocky, glacial landscape. The island, a solitary sentinel in the vast expanse of the Southern Ocean, was a harsh, unforgiving place. Its surface was a stark tableau of black basalt and white ice, a testament to the violent volcanic activity that had birthed it from the sea. The ice-covered island, although only around 10 kilometres wide, seemed to stretch on for an eternity, its desolate expanse a mirror to the endless ocean surrounding it.

The western part of the island was dominated by the massive Séamus II Plateau, a formidable ice cap that glittered ominously under the waning light. The plateau was a frozen wasteland, its surface a maze of towering séracs and crevasses that could swallow a man whole. The wind howled across its surface, whipping up flurries of snow that danced like wraiths in the dying light. Its eastern counterpart was a rugged terrain of rocky cliffs and deep ravines carved over millennia by relentless wind and water. The cliffs were a formidable barrier, their sheer faces plunging into the churning ocean below. The ravines, on the other hand, were like scars on the island's surface, their depths hidden in shadow. They were a testament to the power of the elements, a reminder of the island's constant battle against the forces of nature.

Despite its desolation, Bouvet was a place of stark, brutal beauty. The interplay of light and shadow on the ice, the stark contrast of black rock against white snow, the relentless power of the wind and waves - all these elements combined to create a landscape that was as haunting as it was beautiful. It was a place that demanded respect, a place that reminded anyone who dared to venture there of the raw, untamed power of nature.

The island lacked trees, its only vegetation being the hardy mosses and lichens that clung tenaciously to the rocks, eking out a living in the frigid climate. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of salt and ice, punctuated by the occasional whiff of sulphur from the island's dormant volcano. Despite its inhospitable environment, Bouvet was not devoid of life. Colonies of penguins huddled together on the rocky shores, their raucous calls echoing across the water. Seals basked on the ice, oblivious to the biting cold. Above, petrels and albatrosses wheeled in the sky, their cries a lonely serenade to the setting sun.

As the last rays of light disappeared below the horizon, the island was plunged into a deep, profound darkness. The only sounds were the distant roar of the ocean and the occasional rumble of shifting ice. Bouvet, the most isolated island in the world, was once again alone in the vast, silent expanse of the Antarctic night.

Nestled on Katarøysa, a rocky platform carved out by decades of volcanic activity, lay the Endring Research Station. Originally a Norwegian research base named the Norvegia Research Station, it came under new ownership following its acquisition by the Wellman Institute, a private institute working in conjunction with the British Antarctic Survey. To make use of the Institute's pride and joy, every year, a new crop of 7 British researchers is sent over to Bouvet to carry out various experiments and surveys on the island, hailing from various fields of research.

Dedicated to the scientific art of Polar Research, Endring was a sizeable base comprising of various cargo-like structures interconnected by a thin series of tunnels, each containing a wall-mounted tablet for the purpose of quick research and information-gathering on the personnel and the base. A fair distance from the helicopter landing bay, which was nestled on a separate outcrop of rocky platform, was the most important room of the base - the common room, uniting all the researchers with the tantalising allure of a friendly chat with a can or two of Antarctic freezer-grade Pilsner. The right side of the room was taken up by a wooden bar-kitchenette adorned with various snacks and drinks on hand for any situation, as well as all the necessary cooking appliances. A well-used dart board hung not too far away; the walls beside were about as well-used, decorated by the holes brought about only by the bad aim of a player slightly inebriated either by loneliness or alcohol.