The Station, Part 24

I’m not alone. There’s movement within the grass to my right. A shape is bending is thin stalks ever so carefully, taking a very slow zigzag. I’m not going to be afraid this time. I don’t have to be. Maybe I’m a little crazy for believing that right now—for all I know I’m being stalked by a predator. That could very well be true. But I don’t think so. There’s only one. I’ve already checked that. How do I know that? Well, unless whatever it has an accomplice lying in wait to my left, it would except be to bolt away from the movement and into the range of that hidden partner. But I’m not going to run. I’m going to do the exact opposite. I’m facing the movement in the grass. Taking a step. It’s stopped, probably wondering just what the hell I am and what the hell I’m doing. Good. Keep it guessing. Keep it uncertain. There’s a murmur coming from over there. I can hear at least two distinct pitches. One, low and raspy. Another, high and lilting. If I didn’t know any better I’d say it was a man and a woman having a conversation. Wishful thinking I know. But then there’s the acacia…should I take another step? No, I think I’ll stand my ground and see what happens. I’m very curious about this. Wait, there’s something going on in there. More rustling. Was that a hand I saw? There’s just now way that could have been a—something’s shooting through the grass straight at me. Holding my ground…and oh my. Oh my. I’m look at it but I’m not believing my own eyes. It can’t be more than a meter-and-a-half tall. Covered in short hair. Baring large, white teeth and brandishing a short thick tree limb. And now it’s gone again, back into the grass. A little apeman. I saw a little apeman with almost no forehead and a saggittal crest, just like the creatures we’ve all seen in books and holovids. You may not know them by name but you’d know their faces. Australopithecines. There is no convergent evolution going on here. This is home as it used to be. You must also know what that means for me. This place was meant for Man Who is to Be. I wouldn’t need the excursion suit. I could just strip it off right now, take off all my clothing for that matter, and in all likelihood live off this land, or a t least this chamber, just like we had in the beginning. That high crest that must support huge jaw muscles was distinct on one famous species. A dead end one at that. Australopithecus robustus. Don’t ask me how I know that name. It was just there. I see two pairs of eyes reflecting in the moonlight. Two sets of green dots that have risen over the grass because they’re standing upright. They had been crawling, or perhaps knuckle walking, in order to sneak their way towards me. I haven’t moves a muscle yet. I think in the this particular transition from ape to human, this species has made the one crucial leap that could have very well doomed our own ancestors if not for good old fashioned dumb luck. The display of aggression by the male, having been met with an unexpected lack of response my part, has undoubtedly made an impression. The male and female look back at me. Their mouths are closed; the teeth are then not bared. The tree limb is down by the male’s side. No more aggression. By the fates, I think I may be on the verge of contact, with what could have been another eventual humanity besides our own. And to think we won that evolutionary race. These creatures just took an avenue we weren’t aware existed.