Beacons

The Waiting Station wasn’t exactly a station — it was more of a cleared area in the middle of the woods. He guessed the clearing was about the size of an average helipad. Enough space for a helicopter to safely land and take off. Surrounding the area were enormous pine trees that gently swayed in the wind causing snow to fall off their branches giving the illusion that it was still snowing. It had been snowing for three days straight but stopped a few hours before he had to venture to the clearing. He was thankful for that. Waiting outside during a snow storm was a task no one really enjoyed. The heavy padded suits they wore were heated as were their helmets but it was much better to wait on a storm-less night when you could see more clearly.

He stood in the very center of the Waiting Station right in the middle of the huge red X. He held his helmet under his arm, gazed above the swaying trees and took deep breaths of the crisp cold air. It felt good. He had been inside too long. Although it was pitch dark, the white snow on the ground made it seem lighter. He could hear the copters in the distance and could see their slowly moving searchlights but it had been a while since they were in his area. He decided to put his helmet back on and see if he had received any communications. Snapping tightly in place over his head the helmet began searching for messages — lights flickered and a short series of beeps illuminated the inside of his helmet for a few seconds. ‘No Response’ was the message that came up in bold black letters. Using the controls on the forearm of his suit, he kept communications open and sent another beacon.

This was the 5th beacon he sent and he began to wonder if something was wrong. There had been stories that some were never heleported until their 10th beacon…but he felt that hard to believe. Then there were the stories that some are never heard and will never get a response. He quickly dismissed that thought. The control screen in his helmet visor told him everything was functioning normally. ‘No Response’ still flashed in black letters.

Their suits were meticulously designed for maximum comfort and protection. Nourishment tubes provided water and substance for even the longest wait. Sitting was not allowed during the wait but each suit had specially crafted braces that enabled each person to relieve pressure and weight from their legs and back. The weight of each suit depended upon the build of its wearer, but on average they weighed 100-200 lbs. Nano hydraulics made it very easy to walk and run in the suit and its armored outside material protected from severe cold and the occasional aggressive animal.

His mind began to drift as he saw 3 copters in the distance rotating their bright yellow searchlights. They’re not even close to me, he thought. This isn’t right…is it? He really should have learned more about the personal stories of the ones who were heleported and the feelings they experienced before they were found. He knew the facts of the waiting precedural process backwards and forwards but, being his analytic nature, he chose not to focus on the emotional aspects about dealing with the waiting. That was a mistake, he now realized.

Hours went by and he noticed that the red X he was standing on was being slowly covered by snow. He hadn’t noticed that it started snowing again. Using his left boot, he brushed the snow off the platform to make the X more visible for a landing. The bright spotlight on the top of his helmet illuminated the surrounding trees and for a brief second he thought he had seen a face peering out through the woods. It was unclear if it was animal or human but it startled him so much that his vital sign readout flashed the number of his rapid heartbeat on the visor screen. Any sudden change in his vitals was automatically sent to The Center and logged in his records. Maybe that change would speed up his pick-up, he thought. He gazed around the entire clearing and saw no face staring back at him. The darkness was notorious for playing tricks on people as they waited. There was a real danger of animal attack but 9 times out of 10, something seen in a flash while waiting was just a figment of the imagination.

More hours went by and he hadn’t seen or heard any copters in the distance for quite some time. Deciding to send a 6th beacon, he went through the waiting process in his head. After the proper training was completed, a Waiting Station location was assigned and an initial beacon was sent. It was left up to the individual on how many beacons were sent afterwards and, as he was slowly realizing, the number of beacons sent depended on how patient or at peace the person was. He was growing impatient and as his vitals continued to show, he was not at peace.

To be lifted out of the dark and out of the cold was all he wanted. There were stories of course, but no one actually knew where everyone was being heleported to. But the promise was of a brighter and warmer place and that was really all anyone needed to know. He refreshed his screen with a slightly shaking hand and the bold black message ‘No Response’ again appeared. Leaning back on the support of his suit braces, he removed his helmet and took 3 large breaths of the cold air. The falling snow covered his face quickly as he closed his eyes. He heard nothing but the swaying of the trees as his helmet slipped from his hands and fell at his feet.