ONZ Onzin voor je leven!
Vrolijkheid troef in dit lieve forum vol humor.
Wednesday we wake early having gotten very little sleep. The noise of the burning house during the night was louder even than the howling winds and at various points Hannes and I were both woken by strange rumbling sounds, like engines throbbing somewhere in the distance. I wanted to go out and check, but Hannes wouldn't let me. "Its ambient noise from the fire," he insisted. I wasn't so sure, but it was below zero outside and investigating would have required putting on several more layers so in the end I returned to bed.
If only I'd made the effort and gone out, I might have averted a whole mess of trouble. Or I might have made things worse. It's hard to speculate.
It's cold that morning. Damned damned cold. The coldest its been this month by far. The wind lashes exposed skin like a whip and leaves you red and raw. Your lips crack up almost immediately. You can practically feel the frost growing on your eyebrows. The only consolation is the ground, which is hard as concrete and much easier to traverse than it has been for a long time.
On the way to the office to check on the children, I look in on my house (you'll remember it neighbours the office) - I look through the windows. Everyone is under strict instructions from Amundsen not to enter any infected building (as if we need to be told). In my torch beam, worms are visible, dangling from glistening threads here and there or squirming on various surfaces. But there's no web and nowhere near the same number of worms as the billet where Otto lost his life. I wonder to myself, what would happen to me if I went inside? How had those apparently unimpressive things brought down a big bear of a man like Otto then stripped him to the bone in so short a time? Would they do the same to me? I know they would, but somehow it seems unimaginable. As if it's all just too unbelievable to grasp, even though I've seen the evidence with my own eyes. In Part Four /u/AvalonAvalanche said "I mean come on worms aren't gonna reproduce and fill an entire house in like one or two days". I agree! How is such a thing possible? How could these tiny squirming things even convert a human being into all that silk in such a short time.
Anyway, Hannes joins me as I'm noseying through the glass. I almost don't recognize him. Only his eyes are visible inside the fur of his parker and the scarf wrapped around his nose and mouth. "I'm worried," he says.
"don't be. I'm not going in. But there are so few worms in there compared with the billet," I say, tapping a mitten on the window "look. And hardly any web."
"To create the quantity of silk we saw at the billet they'd need fuel, something they can break down and process" I grimace, my stomach churning. "But listen, Bára. I'm worried about the children."
I feel something jab me inside and a sudden, unbearable sense of deja vu, like I've been here before and know what's coming and the dread is almost palpable. The feeling is like a physical presence in my gut, squirming like a maggot.
"There are tracks," Hannes says, "outside the office." Yes. I knew he'd say that.
I don't know why, but I've become very attached to the children (I know that will infuriate many of you, but I can't help how I feel). Our session with Elna on Monday was a real bonding experience. Both Hannes and I feel the same way, like adoptive parents or a proud aunty and uncle. The twisting inside intensifies when I see the swirling snowmobile tracks and sharply defined footprints from several pairs of boots. The distant engine noises of the previous night suddenly make sense.
When we burst into the office, calling frantically for Elna and Tomas, we know they won't be there. The doors are already unlocked and there's melt-water on the floor where boots have stomped in snow during the night. We both experience the same pain of loss, Hannes and I. He confides in me later that his heart sank when he saw their empty beds. I know many of you would probably have sided against us and the kids, but I have to be honest in recounting my experiences here. Call it maternal/paternal instincts, but they are just children and despite their strangeness they seem vulnerable. Even if they are somehow linked to the worms, I don't believe they asked for any of this. They're victims just like us.
We race across town, stopping to look in the vehicle sheds. Hannes hammers on Doc Norge's door and I rouse Amundsen. He answers, and I feel a sense of relief that he does. He looks bleary eyed but fully dressed. His clothes are all crumpled and I guess he probably sank some whiskeys last night and passed out in his chair. This explains why he didn't hear the snowmobile engines which are noisy and must have passed right by his front door as they skirted town. "Bára?"
"The children are gone. We counted three sled tracks and God knows how many footprints. Amundsen, they've taken them."
Amundsen curses and vanishes. He reappears a few seconds later dragging on his coat and scarf, shouldering his rifle and yanking on mittens. "You see which way the tracks go? Are they ours?"
"Northwest and yes. We checked. Three sleds missing. The jeep and ATV they left." There's nothing northwest except the Russian mining camp. I don't need to remind Amundsen. The look on his face tells me he's figured it out. A few steps outside his house he has to go back to put on more layers. The cold seems to be getting more vicious by the minute.
Hannes and Doc Norge meet us in the middle of town. Off to the west we can see the billet is gone, a crater of charred ground in its place surrounded by blackened snow and a trail of ash heading up into the mountains where the wind of the night has carried the smoke. There's nothing left. I later learn some of our fuel supplies were used to douse the building. I guess that combined with the winds ensured a total obliteration of the house.
The three snowmobile tracks pass close to the billet as though the riders wanted a last look, then they break the untouched moat of snow surrounding town and carve into foothills bordering the lake.
"Let's not be politically correct here," Amundsen says, "go knock up Svend. My guess is he's missing. That'll make it easier to guess the accomplices to the fact. In other words, Hannes, check on Jan and Ensio once you find Svend missing."
"We're going after them?" Norge asks.
I wonder why he even needs to ask. "What else do you propose?"
"Bára, I realize you've got their best interests at heart - (the twins he means) - but this is a situation for the company to deal with. It doesn't matter if those kids are picked up from the Russians or from us. One way or the other they're NPI's problem." He jerks a hand at the smouldering remains of the billet "we have enough to contend with don't you think?"
Ever the diplomat Amundsen steps in, "it's easily minus twelve out here doc, not accounting for wind chill. If they hit trouble they're dead. We don't even know if the Russians are still out there. And not only have they absconded without permission on company vehicles those contemptuous b?st?rds acted without consulting me first. Damned right we're going after them."
Other early-birds are braving the cold to see what's going on. Anders, the dog handler and our closest thing to a vet puts in an appearance and Amundsen tells him to assemble the dog-sleds. Hannes comes back to confirm that Svend's house is empty. "Jan and Ensio are also gone, like you said they would be."
Amundsen gives me a resigned look and pops his pipe in his mouth. "Just call me Sherlock."
I have to smile at that.
Hannes and Amundsen take the remaining snowmobiles and Anders and Seb take the two sleds, the huskies kicking up a serious ruckus (they haven't been out since last Friday). The snow is hard packed enough to add the jeep to the convoy, so two other scientists (let's call them Jonas and Nikolaj) fill the trailer with emergency provisions, blankets, rifles and rescue gear then volunteer to drive. We pile in a bunch of bungees and ropes too. It's easy to hit buried rocks or deep drifts when you're not driving snowmobiles over a groomed trail and the guys may need to haul broken sleds out of ditches.
Norge, myself and the others remain behind. I want to go but Amundsen won't let me. In the end Doc Norge has to back him up. Seeing Otto's remains shook me up and the blanks in my memory are a worry to the doctor. I argue with them, but they won't back down. I'm to stay in my billet and keep an eye on the office, in case Svend has a change of heart and returns the kids. It's all very manly.
Thus I'm in a mood when they're going and find it hard to wish them luck. But then Hannes gives me a bear hug that smells of bonfire smoke and apple wine and through the many quilted layers between us I can feel him trembling. I know he's not cold. So I hug him back and tell him for the second time in so many days "be careful."
"I'm not sure what the appropriate line would be here. What would fit nicely into your narrative?" I can tell from his eyes he's grinning.
"I promise I won't write this bit down" and give him a kiss.
"Liar. You never keep your promises."
"Just be careful." As he's buzzing off into the grey, his rear lights blurring into the haze of cold air I shout after him, "tell them I wanted to come but couldn't and I'll see them really soon!"
So here we are, camping next to various heaters in the community hall while Doc Norge and a research assistant (whom I'm calling Rosa because her real nickname means Flower) fix dinner. It's a long time since we were so few together and though it's nice to cosy up with these people who are as familiar to me as my family when I was growing up once were, I feel nothing but fear. Fear of the worms and for Elna and Tomas and for the men out there in the wilderness, but also for myself and for all of us. I can't help but wonder if this is the end of our settlement, our work and our lives in this little frozen corner of the world. And I can't wait until the others come back, which I hope they do soon.
I'm only planning to update if something major occurs between now and the men returning. I've made Hannes promise to keep an account of everything that happens and to keep a good memory of anything that's said or done so he can tell me word for word when he gets back and I can then get it documented here for you guys.
All your comments, suggestions and advice have been a tonic to me over this difficult time and I want you to know how much I appreciate your support and your being there with me throughout the chaos. You have a special place in my heart, as does this subreddit which has really been amazing for my sanity. You might say getting all this out of my head and written down has helped me sleep (ironic huh).
With everything that has happened I haven't been checking nosleep as much as I like and so I'll sign off with a few answers to your comments.
I missed /u/Bluest_waters advice concerning anti-parasitics. We've been taking Albendazole since Hannes formulated his theory about the polar bear parasites. We've taken other precautions besides, washing fastidiously and boiling everything we eat, boil-washing clothes and drinking only snow melt-water. We also have Niclosamide but haven't used this yet as we have very limited supplies. As far as I know, since Otto was taking Albendazole, it hasn't had the desired effect. Also, /u/Bluest_waters your Ataxia link will no doubt be of much interest to Hannes and I'll make sure he sees it when he comes back. I've already shown it to Freja (another research scientist) who was helping Hannes with his examination of the worms.
If only I'd made the effort and gone out, I might have averted a whole mess of trouble. Or I might have made things worse. It's hard to speculate.
It's cold that morning. Damned damned cold. The coldest its been this month by far. The wind lashes exposed skin like a whip and leaves you red and raw. Your lips crack up almost immediately. You can practically feel the frost growing on your eyebrows. The only consolation is the ground, which is hard as concrete and much easier to traverse than it has been for a long time.
On the way to the office to check on the children, I look in on my house (you'll remember it neighbours the office) - I look through the windows. Everyone is under strict instructions from Amundsen not to enter any infected building (as if we need to be told). In my torch beam, worms are visible, dangling from glistening threads here and there or squirming on various surfaces. But there's no web and nowhere near the same number of worms as the billet where Otto lost his life. I wonder to myself, what would happen to me if I went inside? How had those apparently unimpressive things brought down a big bear of a man like Otto then stripped him to the bone in so short a time? Would they do the same to me? I know they would, but somehow it seems unimaginable. As if it's all just too unbelievable to grasp, even though I've seen the evidence with my own eyes. In Part Four /u/AvalonAvalanche said "I mean come on worms aren't gonna reproduce and fill an entire house in like one or two days". I agree! How is such a thing possible? How could these tiny squirming things even convert a human being into all that silk in such a short time.
Anyway, Hannes joins me as I'm noseying through the glass. I almost don't recognize him. Only his eyes are visible inside the fur of his parker and the scarf wrapped around his nose and mouth. "I'm worried," he says.
"don't be. I'm not going in. But there are so few worms in there compared with the billet," I say, tapping a mitten on the window "look. And hardly any web."
"To create the quantity of silk we saw at the billet they'd need fuel, something they can break down and process" I grimace, my stomach churning. "But listen, Bára. I'm worried about the children."
I feel something jab me inside and a sudden, unbearable sense of deja vu, like I've been here before and know what's coming and the dread is almost palpable. The feeling is like a physical presence in my gut, squirming like a maggot.
"There are tracks," Hannes says, "outside the office." Yes. I knew he'd say that.
I don't know why, but I've become very attached to the children (I know that will infuriate many of you, but I can't help how I feel). Our session with Elna on Monday was a real bonding experience. Both Hannes and I feel the same way, like adoptive parents or a proud aunty and uncle. The twisting inside intensifies when I see the swirling snowmobile tracks and sharply defined footprints from several pairs of boots. The distant engine noises of the previous night suddenly make sense.
When we burst into the office, calling frantically for Elna and Tomas, we know they won't be there. The doors are already unlocked and there's melt-water on the floor where boots have stomped in snow during the night. We both experience the same pain of loss, Hannes and I. He confides in me later that his heart sank when he saw their empty beds. I know many of you would probably have sided against us and the kids, but I have to be honest in recounting my experiences here. Call it maternal/paternal instincts, but they are just children and despite their strangeness they seem vulnerable. Even if they are somehow linked to the worms, I don't believe they asked for any of this. They're victims just like us.
We race across town, stopping to look in the vehicle sheds. Hannes hammers on Doc Norge's door and I rouse Amundsen. He answers, and I feel a sense of relief that he does. He looks bleary eyed but fully dressed. His clothes are all crumpled and I guess he probably sank some whiskeys last night and passed out in his chair. This explains why he didn't hear the snowmobile engines which are noisy and must have passed right by his front door as they skirted town. "Bára?"
"The children are gone. We counted three sled tracks and God knows how many footprints. Amundsen, they've taken them."
Amundsen curses and vanishes. He reappears a few seconds later dragging on his coat and scarf, shouldering his rifle and yanking on mittens. "You see which way the tracks go? Are they ours?"
"Northwest and yes. We checked. Three sleds missing. The jeep and ATV they left." There's nothing northwest except the Russian mining camp. I don't need to remind Amundsen. The look on his face tells me he's figured it out. A few steps outside his house he has to go back to put on more layers. The cold seems to be getting more vicious by the minute.
Hannes and Doc Norge meet us in the middle of town. Off to the west we can see the billet is gone, a crater of charred ground in its place surrounded by blackened snow and a trail of ash heading up into the mountains where the wind of the night has carried the smoke. There's nothing left. I later learn some of our fuel supplies were used to douse the building. I guess that combined with the winds ensured a total obliteration of the house.
The three snowmobile tracks pass close to the billet as though the riders wanted a last look, then they break the untouched moat of snow surrounding town and carve into foothills bordering the lake.
"Let's not be politically correct here," Amundsen says, "go knock up Svend. My guess is he's missing. That'll make it easier to guess the accomplices to the fact. In other words, Hannes, check on Jan and Ensio once you find Svend missing."
"We're going after them?" Norge asks.
I wonder why he even needs to ask. "What else do you propose?"
"Bára, I realize you've got their best interests at heart - (the twins he means) - but this is a situation for the company to deal with. It doesn't matter if those kids are picked up from the Russians or from us. One way or the other they're NPI's problem." He jerks a hand at the smouldering remains of the billet "we have enough to contend with don't you think?"
Ever the diplomat Amundsen steps in, "it's easily minus twelve out here doc, not accounting for wind chill. If they hit trouble they're dead. We don't even know if the Russians are still out there. And not only have they absconded without permission on company vehicles those contemptuous b?st?rds acted without consulting me first. Damned right we're going after them."
Other early-birds are braving the cold to see what's going on. Anders, the dog handler and our closest thing to a vet puts in an appearance and Amundsen tells him to assemble the dog-sleds. Hannes comes back to confirm that Svend's house is empty. "Jan and Ensio are also gone, like you said they would be."
Amundsen gives me a resigned look and pops his pipe in his mouth. "Just call me Sherlock."
I have to smile at that.
Hannes and Amundsen take the remaining snowmobiles and Anders and Seb take the two sleds, the huskies kicking up a serious ruckus (they haven't been out since last Friday). The snow is hard packed enough to add the jeep to the convoy, so two other scientists (let's call them Jonas and Nikolaj) fill the trailer with emergency provisions, blankets, rifles and rescue gear then volunteer to drive. We pile in a bunch of bungees and ropes too. It's easy to hit buried rocks or deep drifts when you're not driving snowmobiles over a groomed trail and the guys may need to haul broken sleds out of ditches.
Norge, myself and the others remain behind. I want to go but Amundsen won't let me. In the end Doc Norge has to back him up. Seeing Otto's remains shook me up and the blanks in my memory are a worry to the doctor. I argue with them, but they won't back down. I'm to stay in my billet and keep an eye on the office, in case Svend has a change of heart and returns the kids. It's all very manly.
Thus I'm in a mood when they're going and find it hard to wish them luck. But then Hannes gives me a bear hug that smells of bonfire smoke and apple wine and through the many quilted layers between us I can feel him trembling. I know he's not cold. So I hug him back and tell him for the second time in so many days "be careful."
"I'm not sure what the appropriate line would be here. What would fit nicely into your narrative?" I can tell from his eyes he's grinning.
"I promise I won't write this bit down" and give him a kiss.
"Liar. You never keep your promises."
"Just be careful." As he's buzzing off into the grey, his rear lights blurring into the haze of cold air I shout after him, "tell them I wanted to come but couldn't and I'll see them really soon!"
So here we are, camping next to various heaters in the community hall while Doc Norge and a research assistant (whom I'm calling Rosa because her real nickname means Flower) fix dinner. It's a long time since we were so few together and though it's nice to cosy up with these people who are as familiar to me as my family when I was growing up once were, I feel nothing but fear. Fear of the worms and for Elna and Tomas and for the men out there in the wilderness, but also for myself and for all of us. I can't help but wonder if this is the end of our settlement, our work and our lives in this little frozen corner of the world. And I can't wait until the others come back, which I hope they do soon.
I'm only planning to update if something major occurs between now and the men returning. I've made Hannes promise to keep an account of everything that happens and to keep a good memory of anything that's said or done so he can tell me word for word when he gets back and I can then get it documented here for you guys.
All your comments, suggestions and advice have been a tonic to me over this difficult time and I want you to know how much I appreciate your support and your being there with me throughout the chaos. You have a special place in my heart, as does this subreddit which has really been amazing for my sanity. You might say getting all this out of my head and written down has helped me sleep (ironic huh).
With everything that has happened I haven't been checking nosleep as much as I like and so I'll sign off with a few answers to your comments.
I missed /u/Bluest_waters advice concerning anti-parasitics. We've been taking Albendazole since Hannes formulated his theory about the polar bear parasites. We've taken other precautions besides, washing fastidiously and boiling everything we eat, boil-washing clothes and drinking only snow melt-water. We also have Niclosamide but haven't used this yet as we have very limited supplies. As far as I know, since Otto was taking Albendazole, it hasn't had the desired effect. Also, /u/Bluest_waters your Ataxia link will no doubt be of much interest to Hannes and I'll make sure he sees it when he comes back. I've already shown it to Freja (another research scientist) who was helping Hannes with his examination of the worms.
Op dinsdag 26 augustus 2014 00:04 schreef spijkerbroek het volgende:
Taalverkrachting is een misdrijf.
Op maandag 21 september 2020 18:37 zal yvonne het volgende schrijven:
Ik neuk jullie allemaal de moeder.
Taalverkrachting is een misdrijf.
Op maandag 21 september 2020 18:37 zal yvonne het volgende schrijven:
Ik neuk jullie allemaal de moeder.
De Coördinator Automatisering is verantwoordelijk voor het zo optimaal mogelijk laten verlopen van automatiseringsprojecten en het afstemmen van de automatiseringstaken op het orderverloop binnen NAWI. U rapporteert aan de Manager Techniek. Belangrijke werkzaamheden zijn met name de planning van aankomende en lopende projecten, en de efficiënte uitvoering van automatiseringswerkzaamheden in een dynamische werkomgeving. U zorgt er voor dat vanaf het begin een project goed wordt voorbereid en tijdig de juiste gegevens worden aangeleverd aan de collega's in de vervolgtrajecten. Daarnaast verzorgt u de rapportage over en administratie van de projecten (o.a. het constructie dossier). Verder bent u verantwoordelijk voor toepassing van standaardisatie in projecten waar dat mogelijk is, kwaliteitsbewaking en verbeteringsprojecten. U onderhoudt intensieve contacten met uw team van ca. 10 medewerkers en speelt een belangrijke rol in het ontwikkelen en uitvoeren van het personeelsbeleid op uw afdeling. Aantal uren per week: 38 (1,0 fte)
Automati... wat?quote:Op dinsdag 4 februari 2014 15:21 schreef HET_IS_PATAT het volgende:
De Coördinator Automatisering is verantwoordelijk voor het zo optimaal mogelijk laten verlopen van automatiseringsprojecten en het afstemmen van de automatiseringstaken op het orderverloop binnen NAWI. U rapporteert aan de Manager Techniek. Belangrijke werkzaamheden zijn met name de planning van aankomende en lopende projecten, en de efficiënte uitvoering van automatiseringswerkzaamheden in een dynamische werkomgeving. U zorgt er voor dat vanaf het begin een project goed wordt voorbereid en tijdig de juiste gegevens worden aangeleverd aan de collega's in de vervolgtrajecten. Daarnaast verzorgt u de rapportage over en administratie van de projecten (o.a. het constructie dossier). Verder bent u verantwoordelijk voor toepassing van standaardisatie in projecten waar dat mogelijk is, kwaliteitsbewaking en verbeteringsprojecten. U onderhoudt intensieve contacten met uw team van ca. 10 medewerkers en speelt een belangrijke rol in het ontwikkelen en uitvoeren van het personeelsbeleid op uw afdeling. Aantal uren per week: 38 (1,0 fte)
Oh ja.
^([\[]*(?:\d{2}):(?:\d{2}):(?:\d{2})[\]]*)
[ Bericht 52% gewijzigd door #ANONIEM op 04-02-2014 19:33:48 ]
[ Bericht 52% gewijzigd door #ANONIEM op 04-02-2014 19:33:48 ]
