Day 9
Deep in the caves, my body is lighter. There is a gravitational relief for which I have little explanation, but the weight on my shoulders has lifted enough that I can stand up straight. While it does not make sense that the gravitational force is lighter with the decrease in altitude, I cannot discount my experience. I am learning that Earth's mathematical and physical principles may not be the same principles that apply to S2215C.
My ears are traitorous hangers-on that hear my name in the vast underground framework of this place. The gray sponge walls buzz a low tone like a lightbulb in a brownout and hush their breathy beckons, which command me to move deeper into the cavern. The air is metallic, and a sourness grows in my belly, though I cannot be certain whether from thirst or intuition. My skin crawls with the sound of the cavern that is as quiet as the ocean is quiet. Never still. Never silent.
In switching off my flashlight to conserve battery life, I have discovered the world beyond the light, the world beyond time and the palpable heat of the blue orb that hangs in the sky with black stars. When I switch off the flashlight, I hang like a black star in a void, suspended in the roaring darkness of the cave with a heartbeat that pounds behind my ears and sloshes humming blood into arteries while all my hairs stand on their follicles. I am sure my eyes are tricking me now, forming colors and shapes where there are none, seeing the objects of dreams and nightmares without sleep. The cave's pure, tingling energy pulls at my blood the way the Earth-moon pulls at the tide.
Truthfully, I am afraid to make much sound. Though I've seen nothing of structural concern, my footsteps are careful. To cause a catastrophic echo that crushes the cave system is not as terrifying as considering what could happen were I to give away my location to a cave-dwelling creature I cannot see. Perhaps one I cannot fathom. If there are beings here, I'm not sure I want to find them. I do not want to be found first.
It is cool here in this part of the cave system, almost chilly, a welcome relief from the oppressive heat of the planet's surface. I have lost track of time spent walking and the distance covered. Losing track of things happens quickly in the darkness. Miles or meters, days or hours, I have no way of knowing. But I am almost out of food, and I have yet to find water.
My canteen is empty, but there is water in the air. I smell it. I will find water if I stay the course. For now, I will sleep and dream of all the water I cannot drink, of all the light I cannot see. I will dream of the home that is no longer home to me and the cave that knows my name.
Signing off,
CB