Free The Secret Chamber by Patrick Woodhead

showed that two of the biggest coltan mines in Australia had suffered compressor explosions similar to their own. Another had been hit by a sudden contamination leak which had effectively halted all production since earlier that year, forcing Minecap, one of Australia’s foremost mining companies, to turn to the government for a bridging loan.
    As she trawled further through the archives, Bear found that there were others too – a coltan mine in Brazil, two in Canada, and finally a sketchy report from somewhere in northern Mozambique about an explosion in one of their mines.
    Bear reached forward to her laptop, pulling up the coltan figures for the first two quarters. There had been an overall fall in production of twenty-three per cent, with only mines in China, the Congo and a smaller one in Indonesia remaining unaffected. Drawing a circle on her notepad around the number 23, she then drew a big arrow pointing downwards.
    Getting up from her chair, Bear kicked off her high-heeled shoes and moaned softly as she stretched out her toes, splaying them against the threadbare office carpet. She twisted her thick hair around her fingers before piling it on top of her head and pinning it back with a well-chewed Biro. Gently massaging her neck, she felt the knots running deep into the muscle. She just wasn’t cut out to be in an office all day. It always made her feel cramped and tired.
    Pinned to the wall above her computer was a small Polaroid of her husband and their three-year-old son, Nathan. She let her eyes linger on the boy’s smile for a moment and sighed heavily, her shoulders finally relaxing. There was always something so uncomplicated in the way he smiled. Nathan lived every moment in the present, happy or sad, unburdened by the weight of life that seemed to suffocate so many people as they grew older.
    Bear’s gaze traced over his soft cheeks and the black, curling locks of his hair. Her husband, Jamie, always tried to get her to cut his hair short, claiming that the other kids would tease him for looking like a girl, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it yet. It was one of the greatest pleasures in her life, Nath drinking his bottle in bed with them each morning, his soft hair brushing against her neck as she cuddled him close. He was a perfect mixture of them both, not just the colour of his skin, which was lighter than Bear’s and a few shades darker than Jamie’s suntanned white, but in his eyes, the oval shape of his face, even his slightly misshapen big toes.
    Bear looked at the wall clock and cursed out loud. It was 7.30 and she had promised Jamie she would be back in time to put Nathan to bed. Closing her eyes, she exhaled deeply, breathing out all the dry office air. It wasn’t just the fact that she would miss Nath this evening, it was Jamie’s inevitable disapproval. She could picture his face as she came through the front door, filled with unspoken disappointment. Nathan was always vaunted as the victim of her working late, used as camouflage for Jamie’s own emotions. Guilt: that was the only thing she seemed to feel these days; guilt that she didn’t spend enough time with her son, guilt that she apparently valued work over family, guilt that she had emasculated her husband by earning more than he did.
    For so many months now, she and Jamie had led almost separate lives, speaking to each other but never really communicating. Their focus always seemed to be around the child, leaving unfinished business that exploded into arguments each time they had a moment to themselves. Bear opened her eyes again and, after a moment, sat down and turned back towards the screen of her computer. If he was going to give her a guilt trip anyway, she might as well get a little more work done.
    The phone rang and it took her several seconds to find it under the piles of paper.
    ‘Madame Makuru,’ came the voice of the security guard on the front desk. ‘I’ve a Lieutenant William Cooper on the phone for you.