The Station, Part 30

My man ape friends have gone off a little ways and begun digging in various places. A minute ago I saw the male pull up what looked like a rather large grub and offer it to the female. In a rather gentle way I notice, almost reverently. She took it in both hands and cooed back at him. A “thank you” of sorts I suppose. And then delicately ate the seemingly precious morsel while her companion watched. More digging and the female pulls up what looks like a fat, white radish. She peels away some of the outer layers and shows the male. She makes a cooing sound. He responds by tilting back his head and opening his mouth. She then holds the radish-thing over his mouth and squeezes. Water dribbling out of it and into his parted lips. Amazing. The more I see of them, the more I’m convinced they’re a couple. More than mere sexual partners, less than married, but having a bond based on what we would call love. Is this how it began, with the sharing of precious food? Well, as far as I know, jewelry has yet to be invented here, so what else would have value but the very stuff of life? More grubs are being found and some other creature, a grasshopper perhaps, caused a small ruckus as it tries to hop away. The male is quicker than the grasshopper though. His loud, crunching sound he makes as he chews it has actually made me a little bit hungry. Well, I do have the remaining foodstuffs from the suit. But I don’t want them anymore, because even though I know what it is, and I know it is the ultimate in nutrition for my body. I couldn’t stand another ounce of it. I’d rather go hungry for now, thank you.

I never bothered to broadcast from Frontier after I left her. Why is that? That’s the downright dumbest thing I’ve ever done, hands down. All I had to do was hit one fucking switch and I would be able to have tracked the station down. Probably. I feel rather detached about, but I still want to see her, if not for some kind of closure. The station, assuming she’s still operational, has everything I need. Plenty of food, water, balanced environment and even a soft bed. And yet I’m still not anxious anymore. Even the thought of sending a stronger signal through Frontier’s more powerful transmitter has failed to send my pulse racing. There is more worry about that. Where is my urge? Where has my anxiety gone? Why don’t I feel trapped?

My guides have finished their meal and stood up. Without another sound, they trudge off with purpose in the same direction as before. The same direction we took in the dream.

It’s like immediate déjà vu. We are simply following the path that I have been on before. In just a little while we’ll find Frontier. I’m somewhat apprehensive in this. I’m so certain of this near future that I haven’t even considered it just a product of my rattled unconscious. And when my conscious mind sees Frontier, what will this confirm? Have I developed some form of precognition, or has this ability been with me always and only now manifested? That would be quite the convergence of events now wouldn’t it?

While I follow the man apes, whom I grown to inordinately care for, I’m also taking in the vast grassland that surrounds us. It seems to go on forever in every direction, the mountains notwithstanding. Mountains. Here. In space. It boggles the mind. The whole scenario by itself is grounds for insanity I’d say. But it is beautiful in a very simple way. The innumerable stalks of grass are like undulating gold thread. Here and there I’ve seen more acacias, as well as other species. Insects buzz about too. Real insects I might add and not a myriad of analogue to that order of life. I know so much more know. Buried lessons are coming to the surface of my mind all the time now. I know more of life and its processes now than I ever did, even when I found it most interesting as a child. My mother I would sometimes sit on the porch in the evening and talk about things like ecology and food webs and the like. Did we sit in a swing or in chairs? I can’t seem to recall what the front porch looked like, or the layout of the front yard for that matter. The same yard that my two friends and I played in as children. Or was that just one friend? I seem to recall another boy, but there’s no face or name attached to it. Must be thinking of someone else. A colleague’s son maybe. Oh well. That was a long time ago anyway.