The Station, Part 26

I’m keeping what I hope is a discreet distance behind the male and female. Apparently this is so as I’m seeing no indication of alarm from either of my guides. They still look over their shoulders at me now and again, but I think they do so to make sure I’m still behind them. They need not worry about that. I’m sticking to their path like molecular adhesive. As we’ve been traveling, I been seeing more acacias and now, as the “sun” rises, and that is in the loosest of terms mind you, more familiar forms. The swaying fields of grass certainly, but other trees as well. One I think is referred to as a flame tree. Others I don’t have names for, but I’ve seen them. One of them is playing host to actual birds. These little creatures have built nests that hang from the thin branches. The noises they make is a happy one. I’ve seen even smaller flying things as well. Even though they move too fast for me to make out their details, I know they are true insects and not analogues. I have somehow come home, albeit far too early.

The day is still brightening and I see no end in sight to this what is now obviously a immense savannah. Just like it would have been approximately three million years ago, give or take. And for whatever reason I’m very happy to know it’s here. My guides move with a graceful ease through the grass. For the first time, the excursion suit seems utterly ridiculous. It would have to be, at least in this place. I mean really, if this is a true piece of home, then I would have no trouble if I removed it. I could conserve air. Shit, I may even be able to finds something to eat here that doesn’t involve a smooth paste. But no. As stupid as it may seem right now, the suit must stay on. If I took it off now, I’m not sure I’d be willing to put it back on again. I’ve got about three days of supplies and then that’s it. Unless I find Frontier. I haven’t wanted to say this yet, but I can’t let doubt get the better of me. But I think I should. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to find the station. How odd is that? Why would I have any reason for that? But it’s been there since that first dream. That dream in which I communed with immense, gentle beings in the forest. I’ve never had a dream where I’ve been so at ease. I was naked even. Aren’t dreams of not wearing clothes supposed to be signs of anxiety. Well, I just blew that theory out of the water, because I was butt naked in the woods, surrounded by creatures much larger than myself. Completely vulnerable. And it felt completely right. I was supposed to be there. And I really wanted it to go on forever.

It’s getting quite bright. I can certainly see more of the area. I don’t know how this could be, but there are actual mountains in the distance. Could that be a clone of Kilimanjaro I see? It’s astounding nonetheless. It’s so perfect I see even make out the snow laden peaks of it and it brethren. There seems to be absolutely no limit to the abilities of this construct. Whenever I think I’ve seems the absolutely impossible, I am surprised again and again. This savannah, possibly the largest environment I’ve encountered as yet, lacks the one thing I’d hoped to see. The wall of tunnels. If another side of that ubiquitous feature is here, it is far, far away. And I’ve done so much traveling. The suit, as light as it is, is steadily feeling heavier on me. All this walking is taking its toll. My feet and legs ache constantly now. I’ve been forgoing sleep which isn’t helping. And here I am, following the impossible like a lost puppy. Well, I am a lost puppy. I’m making no sense, I know. But there is a reason behind these diminutive creatures’ behavior. And I know it has everything to do with me. It has to be.

They’ve stopped. And now they’ve knelt down into the grass. Did they find something? Now the female has stood back up and is looking my way, making a odd motion. She’s putting her hands together and tilting her head to lay one cheek against them. There she’s doing it again. Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. I think she’s motioning me to sleep. Or they are going to sleep. Either way, I’m immensely relieved. It’s one incredible coincidence perhaps, or not, but I don’t really give a fuck right now. I so need to close my eyes.