The Station, Part 15 cont.

It’s the closest I’ve felt to being back home since I left. As a kid and teenager, I used to spend a lot of time at the beach. I lived just minutes away from one of the best in the world, at least in my opinion—in Panama City Beach. I first visited it when I was just walking. One of my very first memories is standing in the surf, watching the water splash up around my legs. I can even remember feeling scared of it a little, like the water was coming to get me. Everything is so much bigger looking when you’re a toddler, but I’m sure one or both of my parents was just a couple of feet away, letting feel like a had a little freedom by letting walk on the hard, wet sand.

I remember being older too. Those are some of my fondest memories. Mom and Dad letting the Autopilot take me and my friends there by ourselves. Always had to take the videophone too though. That always annoyed me. You know, adolescent angst and all. Felt like my friends and I would spent entire summers there. I don’t think wore more than a pair of pants for months. Good thing skin cancers are a thing of the past or I’d be long gone by now. Took my first real girlfriend there too. Tried and failed to get laid there. She wasn’t nearly the beach bum that I was. She had a thing about sand. Said it got everywhere. Kinda the point of sand, isn’t it? When I had gone off to the Academy though, Panama City Beach started becoming more and more a series of fond memories.

This beach is not much like Panama City, but oddly enough, it has relaxed me. It’s really odd though, to be standing on this alien seashore, inside who knows what, wearing a spacesuit. What a holo I must make. Something out of an oddball comedy on a popular vidstream.

You know what? I’m hungry. I’ve been drinking water on a regular basis but I’ve been so wrapped up in my situation that I haven’t even bothered to access the meal menu. Bringing it up on the HUD. So let’s see what’s on the menu…Good grief, who picked these? Chicken salad, spaghetti, egg salad, fruit cocktail, pumpkin pie. I’d really like to know how these made it into the finals for “favorite flavored meal paste for when I’m stuck in a spacesuit that recycles all my body waste. Yum, yum. All right, what’ll it be pal? Never really liked chicken salad. Alright, for your appetizer, sir we have a lovely fruit paste followed by a hearty spaghetti paste, and if, it pleases our guest, a lovely pumpkin pie paste, just like Mom used to make. Is that funny at all? Forget it. I’m dialing up my lunch. I’ll just sit here and watch the waves and clouds for a bit. Nothing like sucking up a meal like a toothless old man.

When the food tastes like this, it’s really easy to not overeat. I think it’s designed that way. We don’t want our personnel to enjoy themselves too much now. I’m walking again. I’m just starting to see shapes in the surf now, still a ways off. Long, smooth, like very large, fat serpents. They aren’t moving. No wait. There is a little movement. I’m slowing down, keeping my distance. The ends taper into a snout of sorts, I think. No, they’re not really serpent-like. More like elephant trunks. The ends open and close every few seconds. For breathing perhaps? I can’t see the other end of wherever these things are, as they apparently disappear into the water. Whatever they are, they must be huge. And there are a lot of them. They’re lined up more or less evenly spaced along the shore and they all appear to be about the same size. The ones closest to me don’t seem to notice me approaching. I’m stepping back further, closer to the wall and intend to go around them. No discernible movement other than that regular slow undulation. This close up I can see these things are huge, about five meters long. The small end opens and closes. I think it’s the way they breathe. I’m about ten meters away from them. I really don’t want to get any closer than that, so don’t bother asking. Up and down, up and down they go. Like giant blind elephant trunks. The rest of their bodies disappear into the soupy green water, making it impossible for me to see what the other end looks like. Whatever they are, they either don’t know or don’t care if I’m here. I hope it’s the latter. I’m going to stay further up the beach from here on out, or at least until they are no more trunks to avoid. They seem to go on forever.

As I walk past them, I’ve started to notice something. These creatures’ bodies don’t disappear into the water. Rather, they’re buried under the sand at the shoreline. These trunks may serve as a sort of snorkel. Like giant clams or oysters. They have some kind of appendage like that I think. Should have paid more attention in my marine biology course at the Academy. Makes me wonder just how big these things are if I’m only seeing this much of them. And why are they buried? Is this just what they do day after day? Something tells me this is a temporary thing they’re doing. Like they’re waiting for something. Shellfish can’t survive on the surface for too long. They would be picked off by predators in no time. I don’t want to think about what might want to eat these creatures that bury themselves in the surf. I’m already scared enough. And while I’ve been musing over this strange ecology I’ve also noticed that it has gotten darker in here. The sky is fading and everything is taking on a darker green. I think it’s time to turn back. I don’t want to be here if this place becomes completely dark. The entrance to the tunnel sounds a lot better to me right now.