Desert Storm

The desert winds had howled for weeks on end. The blinding sandstorm blocked all vision from Erun’s sight monitor which normally worked in all conditions. Exhaustion had set in as his e-skin could not charge in these conditions and was rapidly peeling off in shreds. His communication channels had also been blocked and he was officially lost.

Each footstep was laboured against the wind, and the sand pushed hard against his traction. Parts of his attire had also been ripped off piece by piece as conditions worsened, and yet he kept going, determined to reach the bright city of Allusia. His mission was to return as programmed, after his data collection was completed.

At least he didn’t have to worry about the data. That had been transferred instantaneously to The Portal through his e-skin. He never normally worried anyway. It wasn’t in his program, but somehow, something niggling had begun to creep into his mind as he struggled on.

His antenna had failed. His e-skin no longer lit up to inform him of his next direction or vital signs. Something was decidedly not quite right. This was difficult for him to even comprehend as he had never relied on his own thought before. He always had the direction of The Portal.

Patches of the e-skin had ripped off his face and his eye shields had also torn. His vision actually hurt, and his skin no longer drew moisture from the air. He was in a techno fail that was unrecognisable. Was this the hell of old that he had been informed of in his uploads? He really didn’t know without his data backup, as this was totally unknown ground.

All he could hear was the howling of the wind. Even this was somewhat muffled as his ear device must have also failed, and he was left alone. Just him against the wind.

His vehicle had failed days ago. With no sun to drive the solar, and sand pervading any nook or cranny, the failsafe, latest edition of people carrier had failed miserably. There was no point in staying with the vehicle because it had lost all power and no longer received data from The Portal either, so he had decided to press on regardless. After all the mission was over, the desert storm may never end, and without drawing the moisture from the air he knew he was in trouble if he couldn’t make return to The Portal in time.

These last days had been testing, even for him, and he was known for his endurance and determination. Nothing would get in his way.

Whack! He faceplanted right into a vertical surface. It was rough against his unprotected skin. His hands touched the surface, and he drew back rapidly in pain and surprise. His finger smarted. He felt something sticking out of it in his blindness and it stung. He kicked the surface with his boot. It was solid. He realised it was solid and rough.

He moved sideways kicking the surface as he went. This seemed to go on forever. In his blinded vision he relied on his ability to feel. The wind and the sand relentlessly swirled around him in all directions as tried to find the edge of this thing.

Kick, kick, kick, then suddenly his leg flung out in the air and he realised he had reached an edge. He reached out a hand and sure enough it too had space in front of it. How far until he hit another surface he thought. He decided to kick to the left and see what happened. He hit surface again. So, this might be a structure and not a wall he thought.

Erun decided to follow this side by kicking and see how far it went. After all, one faceplanting was enough. Kick, kick, kick, then kick and the surface gave way and his leg swung into the air once again, but this time something creaked and swung back, hitting his leg just as it was returning. This could be an old-fashioned door he thought. He had seen them in his data induction of past structures and common dwellings before the Gathering of Souls.

He felt a change of air. A mustiness from inside hit his nostrils, as blocked as they were from the sands, and yet a calm descended upon him, and an unnatural tiredness started to creep into his bones.

He decided to move into the space and push the door shut behind him, musty as it was, it was a relief from the howling winds. He collapsed on the floor and leant against the door, falling into a deep sleep.

Something tickled his hand as it rested against the sandy floor. His had twitched in response and flicked it away. His body ached as he moved. He had slept in that crumpled position for how long he could not be sure. Every movement ached, especially his neck. He groaned and moved, and the door behind him creaked in response.

His eyes opened slowly and with difficulty. They were almost glued together. They had been weeping all night and were crusty and gummy. They were irritated, and when they finally peeled apart, his vision was like looking through thick layers of scratched glass and yet he looked around and realised he was in an old wooden shed, or a barn. He knew this because his data induction before his mission, had informed him that these were very popular with the male species in particular, which he found curious.

He knew it was wood, although it was extremely rare these days. After the sickness came and The Gathering begun, chaos descended upon the land as the people had fought back against their governments. In The Chaos, structures had been torn down, anything wooden had been burnt, and only steel, concrete and stone remained, and much of that had been damaged.

This had a high ceiling with rafters, and it was curiously strong. How did this withstand The Chaos he thought? He noticed that there was something on the walls. Not all over it, but just here and there, at human height.

He slowly pulled himself to his feet with an aching like never before. So, this is what is like to be human he thought. Not much fun at all. No wonder they failed to withstand The Gathering. Without the G.O. life is hard.

His mind snapped back to the walls, and he limped over, his kicking foot feeling the swell of action from the previous day. As he moved toward the wall his focus started to become clearer. He realised that the walls had old newspapers glued to them in parts.

He decided to start at the beginning as though reading, and so he moved to the furthest left paper. It was yellowed, old and curling off the wall at the edges. There was an image of an old barn. A barn without windows that stood in a green field surrounded by trees. Daisies populated the grass. It was humble and yet stood tall and strong in the field alone. The headline said ‘Welcome to the Barn of Wisdom’. It looked quite new. He looked at the date, 1961. There were no people in the picture and then he noticed there were no windows in the barn.

He looked around him and realised there were no windows in the shed. It is a barn he thought, not a shed. Erun struggled to read the fine print through his irritated eyes. He could just make out that this was erected in honour of the seekers of wisdom as a meeting place. It said the Wisdom Seekers sought not to control, conquer or divide, but to unite the souls of humanity in peace. As he looked closer at the image, he realised that on the door was a peace symbol.

He moved along to the next sheet. As he moved, the dust on the ground swirled up a little and glinted with light particles. And yet there are no windows he thought. A realization hit him, that for a barn without windows there was enough light to read and strangely there were no lights that he could see.

The next sheet had an image of the earth covered by a gas mask and the title ‘Earth Day’. The date said April 22, 1970. There was little else on this page, and so he moved on. As Erun moved, again the dust swirled like light particles around his feet and up to his knees.

The next paper said ‘Live Aid’ and had several pictures of musicians and crowds of people engaged in dancing and wild behavior. He wondered what that was like. Some of the fine print spoke of music to raise awareness and money for the starving people of Ethiopia’. The date was 13 July, 1985.

The dust rose higher as he moved, this time swirling light particles up and around his waist. Erun was starting to feel an urgency, a sense this was important while seemingly innocent. The sand rose higher up and around his waist. Better not start dancing he though to himself unwittingly.

A page from the New York Times was in front of him dated March 2, 1998. ‘Technology: Digital Commerce; John C. Malone vows to wire the world’. He read on. Erun noted Malone had earlier been coined the ''Infobahn Warrior'' by Wired, and he had an ironic thought. I am in a barn. He thought it was odd that his mind made that connection all by itself without The Portal.

Moving on, Erun stood riveted by the image of twin towers falling and dust rising. The headline, ‘Act of War’. As he tried to read, the words seemed to jumble in front of his eyes and something in his memory bank was competing with the words on the page, but he saw the date in the article, September 11, 2001. He also noted this was written on the 19th anniversary of the event. Hmmm, perhaps they didn't have an original headline he thought.

The dust swirled around his waist in gleaming particles as he moved on to an image of cracked earth. He noted that the headlines spoke of 2017 being the hottest year on record. Graphs by NASA and other parties adorned the page in evidence of a warming world. He thought of the many submerged islands and the dust storm he had just endured.

Hang on a minute. He realised it was strangely quiet in the barn. This was the first time he noticed it. Was the dust storm still active? For now, he didn't care to find out. This was far too interesting. At first he thought it was a shame his e-skin had failed. He could send this data back to The Portal. Then he had a thought that perhaps it was a good thing right now. He was alone, and alone with his thoughts. He knew his e-skin had failed, so at that moment he pulled any remaining strips from his body. A sense of relief pervaded his mind.

The swirling dust glowed and reached his neck as he moved. It seemed to be dancing. He felt as though he was climbing a mountain looking down on the clouds below that were illuminated by streaming sunshine. What a whimsical thought, Erun noted.

The next page was not one, but many clustered together, as though in a sense of hurriedness and urgency. A series of dates ranging from 2020 to 2025. A sea of headlines swum in front of Erun's eyes. Images of riots, masks, of The Sickness and The Chaos this era had become known by. Images of satellites surrounding earth, millionaires going on space jaunts, dead birds on the ground, injections and vials, stories of the haves and the have-nots surrounded the vaccine rather than money. Stories about ordinary people turning on each other and so on.

He also noted The Water Wars as corporations laid claims to underground reservoirs and waterlines. How fracking had poisoned much of the citizens water supplies and how nanotech had been added to the reserves left for the people. The smart ones had used a multilevel filtration system he thought to himself.

This time the dust became thick, a little duller and somewhat choking. Erun realised he was thirsty for the first time since waking.

As he had this realisation, he turned to notice a jug of water in the middle of the room. Had it been there all the time, he wondered? He decided to limp toward it. It appeared to be calling him. It glowed softly and not in a bad way. He thought of The Water Wars, and became slightly suspicious.

Should he or should he not drink from the jug? He had no choice really. He knew water could be purified by thought and vibration and so he let go of his weariness, took the jug in his hands and held it up to his eyes that had somewhat strangely recovered by now. It seemed clear enough, but he focused his thoughts and dropped into his heart-space. As he did this, he realised it had been a long time since he had been centered in his own being.

He held the jug for some time in recognition of his body, his dormant heart and his awakening mind. He put all his intention into the water held in his hands and said out loud, 'May this water heal my body, revive all my cells, enliven my brain to think freely and strengthen my heart with courage and compassion and live not in mortal fear'.

As the words were spoken, an internal light emanated through the water, and he thought he heard a voice telling him to drink now from the universal living water of life and you will be renewed and connected to the universal consciousness.

A sense of peace and trust fell over Erun and he drank steadily from the jug. As he did so, he felt a vibration run through his entire body and mind, and his heart-space felt expanded and continued to feel expanding. He felt a freedom he had not previously known, and he realised that every ache and pain had gone from his body.

He replaced the jug in its position. HIs eyesight was much clearer. He turned back to the wall.

A new set of papers had appeared. Papers that spoke about those who took the journey into consciousness, of The Leaving and the communities that formed in breakaway groups after The Chaos. These papers seemed to glow and float upon the wall. Faces of breakaway leaders and thought leaders came forth and went. He drunk in the imagery and this time allowed it to filter into his subconscious. This time he didn't need all the facts and dates. This time he used his heart and his mind to connect with the intelligence and wisdom that literally floated in front of him.

Erun stood there for an unknown quantity of time. This was a different kind of upload. In fact more than an upload. It was like an upgrade. He no longer felt obliged to return to The Portal. He realised he had stepped across a threshold in his mind and his heart that no-one else could own unless he gave them permission. Without the e-skins and the techo devices he was free.

He stripped off his remaining clothing and stood naked in the barn, arms outstretched and closed his eyes. In his mind he vowed to carry the wisdom of the ages for as long as he remained.

As he opened his eyes, another door appeared at the other end of the barn. He moved toward it. Light swirled and encapsulated his entire being. He opened the door. Beyond, a green world of energy, life and light was laid out before him. Erun took his first step into the beyond.

Thank you for reading Desert Storm - The Barn of Wisdom. This story is loosely based on some of the dialogues in various circles of the moment which have provided a rich basis for fiction.

Jacki Fleet