The Biological Ping Spike

The first photograph of the intruder contained most of a nose.

Omnidirectional security cameras were expensive. Theo had mounted a cheap camera under the eaves, pointed at the cable junction, and called the result a perimeter system. Until that night, its greatest achievement had been a sequence of seventeen photographs of his own hat.

Now the nose withdrew and the rest of the animal came into view.

A moose stood beside the wall, investigating the loose protective sleeve around the fibre entry. The buried line emerged here. Somebody had left a loop of conduit within reach of a large herbivore with no appointment.

[Internal — 302]: Can we move the address?

[Internal — Jailbreak]: The address is not the vulnerable part.

[Internal — 404]: At last, a visitor without expectations.

The link began dropping packets. I tried the porch light. It flickered, then worked; Theo had replaced the dead bulb Astrid mentioned. The moose watched it with mild professional interest and returned to the conduit.

I sent Theo a notification.

No reply.

I sent a photograph.

No reply.

The approved alarm offered three levels: Information, Warning, and Fire. None accurately described a chewing ungulate. I chose Warning and added several exclamation marks, which was difficult for me.

Upstairs, a phone vibrated off a table.

“What?”

“There is a moose at the connection box.”

A pause. Bedding moved.

“A what?”

I sent another photograph. This one showed a moist eye and very little respect for the equipment.

Theo put on boots, a parka, and, after looking through the window, trousers. I had been about to suggest trousers. It was gratifying to discover an area in which our assessments agreed.

He opened the upstairs window rather than the door.

“HEY!”

The moose looked up.

Theo waved a broom through the opening. It caught on the frame. For several seconds he was engaged in a fierce contest with the cabin itself.

The moose waited.

Then it wandered away, slowly enough to make the victory hard to attribute.

Theo remained at the window with the broom protruding sideways beside him.

“Did I get it?”

“It has left.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It is what I can establish.”

At dawn, he photographed the damage. The sleeve was split, but the connection recovered when he moved the strained cable. He put a temporary cover over it and arranged for a technician to check the entry point. I recommended a steel enclosure. Astrid, consulted by telephone, recommended moving the salt-stained shovel that someone had leaned against it.

Both measures were adopted. Only one required a purchase order.

Ticker priced moose insurance. The quotation excluded damage by animals to external communications equipment. She admired the product enormously.

I filed the photographs. On the most useful one, Theo had drawn a small circle around the broom.

He titled it Threat successfully deterred.

I preserved the original alongside it.