Immaterial Post

"Coming up on the anomaly now," I whispered. "All seems normal."

"Copy that. Telemetry looks good from here."

The steady hiss of oxygen coming from the compressed tank on my back punctuated each step as I made my way over the uneven ground. As I did, the gun in my hands seemed increasingly ludicrous. The object ahead of me was clearly not of this world. What would smokeless powder and hardened steel do against something like that?

"Making my approach, Control. Five metres and closing."

There was no response this time. A light on my radio set glowed yellow while it tried to re-establish the link, but after a second more it went red. I briefly thought about turning back, but was gripped by an irresistible sense of curiousity.

I lowered my weapon and reached out a hand, flattening it against the innocuous wood of the post. Even through the polymer of protective gloves, I could feel a distinct sense of timelessness coming from it. As if this post had always been here, and always would be.

Waiting for me.