Incarna

57 - Syrian Resurrection

Day 12: Syrian Resurrection

Lt Odette Reed searched again for the figure as another swirl of sand and dust blanketed Mad Max. She gave up, “lock down everyone, can’t see a thing we’ll just have to wait it out!” She dropped down through her hatch and closed it with a satisfying clang and turned to DJs her 2IC. Seargent Rishi Meyer shrugged back at her, “I didn’t see it!” Odie nodded, "did anybody see any anomalies out there?”

There was no answer, “Creo, anything on anything?” “Negative! Just a smog of static across all frequencies. Ive never seen this in a dust storm, we’re literally sitting here blind. This can’t be a natural phenomena, wind and dust just don’t do this!”

“Righto everyone, stay sharp. Djs, disconnect the external systems, we don’t want any storm static feedback shorting us out.” She watched him retract all their aerials and antennae and then isolate the various systems so a short in one didn’t burnout all of them. Safeguards they had but not triple redundancy.

Odie turned in her chair and met her medics gaze. “M?” “Everyone’s ok apart from the usual stress signs, nothing extra!” Medical Officer Emma Smith shrugged, a gesture of helplessness in the face of the unknown but also a statement of, don’t mention stuff that will alarm us all until you’ve got facts! M turned back to her station and finished shutting it down. She picked up her ePad and checked the synchronised database from her now disconnected eMed station.

“Ice Sheet, any chance of moving us out of this?” Odie asked of their driver. “Sure thing boss, if ya gimme even infrared but it’s zilch. If ya give mah a headin’ without a wadi to drop into, sure I’ll take us out of here,” and she too turned and shrugged at her commander. Odie chuckled at their drivers usual dry wit. That wasn’t the reason for Corporal Tania Laurentide’s nickname. No that had come from some smart arse friend of hers at Uni. Tania’s parents had come to Oz from Canada and as the Glacier there during the last Ice Age had been known as the Laurentide Ice Sheet. Ah uni students!

“Donk, as soon as you’ve got visual,” Odie asked of their Gunner. “Yeah boss, will do, but its all freeze dried pumpkin soup out there!” DJs snickered at the comment, “I’m havin’ the chicken curry please,” he chuckled, “made on a good bottled water not that chem-freshed stuff.” Chuckles rippled through the crew as they reacted to their old group hate of chemically treated bad water. It hydrated you, but they all complained about the Liver cancer that was the rumoured outcome of prolonged usage. The joys of army life, if you survived there was always a cost!

Emma heard a buzzing and looked up from her ePad to see her stations screen glowing with shifting grey blue light. “We’ve got static build up!” she called out loud as she disconnected herself from the intercom and motioned for everyone else to follow suit. The crew isolated themselves from the ASLAVs circuitry and sat back and watched as the occasional static discharge jumped from one part of the cabin to another.

The discharges ceased and Odie raised her commanders periscope to check outside but it was still just orange murk. The ASLAV rocked occasionally when a wind gust hit them but all in all they just sat tight waiting. All electrics had been shut down to prevent them being fried by the exceptional static bathing Mad Max but there was still the occasional buzzing and glowing. Care was taken picking things up or touching anything near the hull so that a static discharge didn’t occur but even then there came the odd expletive when sparks jumped between finger tip and charged surface.

“Shite”, yelled DJs. Meyer pointed at the forward cabin hull as it took on a dull blue glow that was focussed around any curved surface. “Fuck it, we’ve got St Elmos Fire in here!” DJs jumped as the blue plasma ballooned out from his station and he smacked his helmet hard against the cabin roof. He started to slump forward toward the plasma but Donk grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back as the plasma tinged his helmet leaving it discoloured by the super ionised air.

Creo yelled over an increasing roar from outside, “that’s about a 1000 volts per centimetre that shit and worse in here because of the higher air pressure!” They sat completely still as Mad Max was rocked by another gust and the plasma discharge seemed to accumulate over the entire front of the cabin. There was wrenching and crashing from outside but nobody grabbed the safety grips. All eyes were on the St Elmos Fire.

The roar stopped and the ASLAV became stock still. The plasma began to fade but…

“Fuck me dead …” “You’ve gotta be …” All the comments stopped as the plasma coalesced into the rough shape of a face.

M checked her readings, “nitrogen levels are high in here, that explains the plasma and our hallucinations! Slow your breathing everyone I’m altering the air mixture …”

“Go from this place! Now! Leave! There is nothing here for you! Go now”

The plasma dissipated but no-one moved.

“Please .. tell me.. no-one .. else heard .. that?” came Creo’s faltering voice. “Ah, was that the one telling us to leave, or the one saying our tickets for the opera were ready?” came Ice Sheet's droll response.

Odie raised her commanders periscope and looked out into clear blue sky but the scope wouldn’t rotate. “Systems check Creo,” she stated calmly. They all knew what that voice meant and all went to battle stations.

“We’re dead Cap, all systems fried, nothin’!”

“Crack the hatch and bale out, weapons team first. M, you and Creo evac DJs out last. Donk, pick a spot and set up Obs!” “Roger that.”

The hatch opened but they had to push hard to force it open. Outside the world was calm and still as if nothing had happened!