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Avalon, Part Three; Chapter Nine: The Surface
Posted By: Triad<m.eelkema@student.tudelft.nl>
Date: 8 December 2005, 7:42 am


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Avalon; Part Three: Circulos Vitiosus



Chapter Nine: The surface

1400 hours, September 22 2502 (military calendar), frigate The Flying Dutchman, Avalon nebula

      While she was putting the last bags of her gear onboard the Pelican Christine tried to settle the butterflies in her stomach. Although she had been on surface excursions before, she had never been in charge of one. That, and the fact she was going to land on an artificial ring with roughly the same diameter as earth, were enough to tighten her nerves as taut as violin snares.
      "Good afternoon, Christine! Lovely weather inside this nebula, isn't it?" Major Morris shouted cheerfully as he entered the small launch bay with his platoon. Although all of the Marines carried more than one hundred pounds of supplies on their backs, they walked across the hangar as if they were taking a stroll through a park.
      Christine smiled at the greetings from the Major. She knew that although he appeared tougher than a coffin nail, Frank really was kindness personified, except of course if you happened to be an enemy. In that case you could kiss your ass goodbye. "Good afternoon to you too, Major. I hope the trip through the cloud wasn't too intolerable."
      "Ha. It didn't even wake me! Unlike my dear Lieutenant Simmons, who had a little bit too much to eat prior to the descent. Maintenance is still busy cleaning up his quarters..."
      Christine winced in disgust. "Ugh. That mustn't have been a pretty si…"
      The XO and the Major were interrupted by the intercom which gave rise to the Commander's voice: "Lieutenant-Commander Smith, Major Morris; the ship is lined up for entry. When you're ready Lieutenant Trucker will dip the Dutchman into the ring's atmosphere, giving the Pelicans the chance to take off. Give me a signal when you're good to go."
      "We're ready now, Commander," Christine said as she hopped into a Pelican and the Crew Chief closed the hatch behind her.

      The Flying Dutchman's air force was comprised of four Pelican dropships, designated Petrels one through four. They were flown by eight seasoned Officers; four Lieutenants and four Ensigns flying shotgun.
      Although the dropships did have the ability to enter dense atmospheres, it was still preferred to do a high-altitude drop-off from the mothership. This was because the Pelican's heat shield was only guaranteed safe for one entry. Retrofitting the shield after every insertion was possible, but also expensive and time-consuming, and was therefore hardly ever done.
      The Dutchman began to shake again as it dipped into the ring's atmosphere, but it was peanuts compared to the descent through the cloud. When the relative airspeed around the ship had decreased enough, Lieutenant Jimmy 'Frog' Bantini loosened the clamps holding his Pelican in place and warned his passengers: "Hold on to your lunches, boys and girls!"
      The pilot engaged his engines and steered his plane backwards exiting the launch bay. Once out of the lee of the frigate the Pelican's nose got pushed down by the gale-force air torrents suddenly rushing against it. The skilled Bantini directed his dropship into a steep inverted dive, trying to bleed of as much speed as possible. He was followed closely by the second Pelican carrying the Marines. Above them the Dutchman increased its orbital speed and veered out of the atmosphere, like a trout swimming away after depositing two bundles of eggs in its spawning ground.
      At an altitude of ten kilometres Bantini put some more power on his engines and pulled his ship out of its dive. They were still descending however. When the altitude allowed for it the Crew Chief opened the rear hatch. All the passengers were thrilled to look down on a hilly and wooded landscape, accentuated by low hanging mists.
      The thick fog completely obscured the ground from sight, and only the highest cedar-like trees pierced through the vaporous blanket. The Pelican's down looking radar didn't have any trouble looking through it however, and painted an image of a rough woodland, occasionally interrupted by one of the mysterious gigantic hatches the Dutchman's sensors had seen from space. The landscape reminded the XO of the large forests on Reach, where she had long ago undergone the survival course as part of her Officer's training.
      Finally the radar picked up a spot absent of trees and large enough for both Pelicans to land in. Christine opened a com-channel to the other Pelican: "Major Morris, order your pilot to land at the clearing. Secure it, and report back when it's safe for me to come in."
      "Understood, sir," the Major replied.
      The pilot of the Pelican carrying the Marines deployed the craft's sturdy landing gear and lowered into the fog, relying on nothing but his radar.
      The dropship touched down in a field covered by long wet grass, it's roaring engines creating clouds of vapour that were added to the surrounding mists. Immediately the Marines lead by Major Morris stormed out of their Pelican and quickly established a circular perimeter around their landing site. Although during their flight they had seen no sign of hostilities or even so much as a civilisation, every soldier watched the shrouded tree line as if at any moment an enemy onslaught could appear.
      Major Morris went around the perimeter once and walked back to the Pelican, which still had its engines fired up. "Lieutenant-Commander Smith, we've got the site secured. You can come in and alight with your men."
      The roaring sound of the second Pelican's engines became louder and it wasn't long before the stubby weapon-adorned nose of the XO's dropship appeared through the veil of low-hanging cloud cover. When the Pelican was still six feet removed from touchdown Christine jumped of the ramp followed by Ensign McBain and eight other Navy-men, all carrying hefty backpacks stuffed full of surveying equipment.
      When the debarkation was finished Christine contacted her Pelican: "Frog, we're on solid ground and ready to proceed with the mission. Your job here is finished for now."
      "Roger. We'll go for altitude and stay standby for support or extraction. Godspeed, Commander."
      Both pilots spurred on their engines and steered their planes out of the fog. The sight of the Pelicans disappearing behind the mist stirred up the jitters in Christine's abdomen again. She was on her own now. Although, not really on her own; she was accompanied by nine other Navy-men and fourteen Marines, so she had a lot of people backing her up.
      She also realised her Commander wasn't more than a radio-call away from her. That reminded Christine; she had to phone in as soon as she had landed. "Dutchman, this is Recon Alfa calling in, over. Is anybody listening up there?"
      Steven's voice crackled over the com-link: "Dutchman here. We're receiving you five-by-five. Is everything alright down there, over?"
      "Affirmative, Commander. We've touched down four clicks from the nearest structure and I've already sent both Petrels back up in the air again. Are you reading our position, over?"
      "That's a roger. How's the terrain you're in, over?"
      "I'm in a small field surrounded by what seems like a large forrest. I estimate we'll reach our objective in roughly an hour, over."
      "Good. Carry on then. We'll check in on your position from time to time. Until then, good luck, Smith. Fisher out."
      Switching of her com-system she turned to Major Morris: "Are you ready to move out, Frank?"
      "As always, Lieutenant. Platoon, fall out!"

      Steven swivelled worriedly in the Commander's chair on his bridge which seemed empty and incomplete without Smith and McBain, although their stations were occupied by substitutes. The cause for his concern was the recon-mission down on the surface of this mysterious ring. It had been two hours since Christine had touched down, but she hadn't phoned in yet. It certainly wasn't her style to slack behind or to forget something as important as reporting to her commanding Officer. Normally he could set his watch to his XO's adherence to her timetable. A disconcerting thought crept into his mind, a thought he could not dismiss right away.
      Let's se what my Lieutenant-Commander is up to. "Dutchman calling Recon Alpha, over." Silence. "Flying Dutchman calling Recon mission Alpha; come in, Smith." Again he could hear nothing but the faint static generated by the equipment and the cosmic background radiation. "Pellerin, is our communications array malfunctioning?"
      "Negative, Commander. All ship systems are functioning well within operational limits, including communications."
      "Sir, they're off the scope," Lieutenant White noted troubled. "Last time I checked, their homing-signal was one kilometre away from the first hatch. But at this moment, they're nowhere to be seen. Do you think they could be underground, Sir?"
      "Possible, but not probable, Lieutenant. I know the XO would certainly have reported in before she would venture below the surface, or at least have left a com-relay at the insertion-point."
      Steven shook his head and thought for a moment. A chilling tremor trickled down his spine. The thoughts he had been unable to silence were slowly coalescing into one of his greatest fears; the loss of his trusted XO, along with Major Morris, Ensign McBain, and all the other Marines and Navy-men accompanying them. Although the worrying over losing some of the most important members of his bridge-crew and a sizable part of his Marines made the lump in the pit of his stomach even heavier, he renewed his faith in the abilities of the Lieutenant-Commander. "We'll give her another hour. If she hasn't made contact by then, I'll go in myself with the Marine-backups."

      She was dreaming. She dreamt of being on holidays when she was six years old. Together with her parents and three older brothers she went to the old family-owned cottage near the Aldrinian Ocean on Kappa Aquila V. The little white brick cottage stood near a pale green cliff, coloured by oxidizing copper deposits in the sandy rocks.
      In her dream she had been playing with her brothers on top of the rock-face all day long, but suddenly fled because she felt haunted by something, some utterly elusive but omnipresent being. She realised in panic the only way to outrun it was to go over the steep precipice. As she jumped she felt the invisible presence touching her, turning her into glass in the blink of an eye. The deep green see beneath her also seemed affected and froze into ice just as fast. The moment she hit the solid ocean her body was shattered into millions of pieces. Then, before all the particles had even come to rest, the shattering was completely reversed.
      Christine slowly opened her eyelids, only to quickly close them again. A diffuse pain floated around in her brains like a moth trapped in a lampshade. A subtle nausea gently pushed itself on the foreground of the awareness of her languid body. She tried to open her hurting eyes again. Slowly her surroundings slid into focus. What she saw made her question her mental state.
      Was she awake? Or did she merely fall from one nightmare into another? Se was lying on a square platform thirty feet long and wide. Beyond the platform was nothing but a dark void which seemed to stretch out infinitely in every direction. The only illumination in this vast emptiness came from the platform itself. Matt green lights were integrated into the floor and lighted her underside.
      Looking around she noticed eleven other warm bodies sleeping on the platform. Some of the Navy-men and Marines were just as Christine in the middle of awakening from their placid slumber. Others were still sound asleep, lying in the green haze on their backs with their arms and legs slightly spread as if they were making snow-angels.
      Christine crawled closer to the others and found the Major sleeping in the same position as everyone else. She gently shook him. "Frank, wake up," she whispered, weary that they might be closely guarded in spite of the apparent lack of surroundings.
      Frank turned on his side without even opening his eyes while mumbling: "…not now, honey…go to sleep…"
      The Major addressing her as his 'honey' made her blush, but Christine quickly shook it off and tried to wake him again. "Come on, Marine. Time to wake up," she ordered, her voice now slightly raised.
      Finally Major Morris opened his eyes and squinted just like Christine had done. Once he got them firmly open he looked around and became aware of the XO, his subordinates and the strange place he was in. "Where…where the hell are we?" he asked Christine with subdued voice. The XO had never seen the Major look at her like he did right now. Instead of his usual self-assured smirk it was one of extreme alertness. "What is this place?"
      Christine looked up and away from the Major. "I haven't the faintest idea, Frank. But whatever it is, we didn't get here on our own." By now every Marine or Sailor had either woken up or been awoken. Everyone crawled around on the platform, trying to make sense of where they were and how they got there.
      "Frank, do a head-count. Find out who's missing." Christine ordered and did the same with her crew. "I'm counting four of my Sailors. Ensign McBain isn't accounted for."
      "I've got six Marines here, including my Sergeant. But I've seem to have lost my Medic," Frank assessed. "Marines, huddle together around me and the Commander. Has anybody got any kind of recollection of how we got here?" All the men and women thought deeply about what had preceded their mysterious awakening, but no one could recall what had happened.
      Noticing that they weren't getting anywhere with this Christine tried to stimulate their minds by thinking out loud: "Let's just trace back to what we can remember. The last thing I can recall was walking through the forest and finding a structure that looked like an entrance of some kind."
      A Marine picked up where Christine had stopped: "I recollect walking down a corridor with blue-coloured lighting."
      "Yes, walking through a structure also comes to mind with me," said Sergeant LaMarque, whose mind seemed to be stirred up by the others. "But the last thing I remember before waking up was this golden shimmering thingy in front of me."
      Christine saw looks of recognition in the eyes around her. Pondering over LaMarque's description she herself managed to dig up a similar experience from the depths of her memory. In her mind she replayed the last events preceding the dream; the grey hallway they were walking in, and the blue lighting that had faded away into a golden haze. Following that were the strange dreams which had kept her mind busy to the moment she had opened her eyes.
      The Major's face twitched in frustration. He pounded on the floor with his fist and started pacing up and down the platform. "It doesn't matter how we got here. I'm far more interested in how to get out of this hole." He stopped and kneeled at the edge of the turquoise coloured square. "LaMarque, Anderson; grab my legs so that I can look over the edge to see what's keeping this platform up."
      Both Marines grabbed and held his legs to the floor, acting as a counterweight while the Major doubled over the edge. This awkward position made it difficult for him to breathe and caused the blood to rush to his head. So after a couple of seconds he ordered his Marines to haul him up again.
      Christine looked at the Major, awaiting a detailed description of whatever was below, but all she saw on his face was an absent stare, filled with surprise and disbelief. "Well, what did you see down there?" Christine asked with keen interest.
      "I…I don't know," the Major mumbled.
      "What do you mean? Is it big, the support holding up this slab?"
      Frank shook his head, his eyes still focussed on infinite. "No, it isn't even there." He finally broke the lock on his gaze and looked straight into the eyes of the XO. "There is nothing supporting this platform."


To be continued





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