The Station, Part 74

As for the explanation I promised, you have now been given it. I feel no disgust towards you, rather a sense of pity, and I’m sorry for that. There is no sense of superiority to you either. That is not it at all. I was but a lonely explorer to found without knowing until just recently, his true home. I pity what you will only hear of and never experience for yourself.

There is a change happening to the Junction. The myriad of displays are fading and the room is darkening. It continues to fade. And now I can see nothing save for a single spot in the very center of the floor. I am drawn to it. I have to see it for what it is.

Before I take a step, I see the displays return, slowly fading in. The images they show me have a theme—planets. Many are water-filled worlds, some are gaseous giants, and still others wear various shades of green. Still others are blessed with rings. All manner of worlds that only seconds ago were unknown to me.

A hiss has startled me. The place of the light has been filled with some kind of spherical chamber. It appears to be a miniature version of the Junction, large enough in diameter of accommodate a being of my size. As if reading my thoughts, the side visible to me slowly opens, parting as liquid does. Now there is a perfectly round hole. A faint light emanates from within. I believe I have been invited inside. In any case, I would like to see what lies inside.

I step inside and find that it is noticeably in here warmer than outside. Not uncomfortably so; in fact, it gives me a relaxed, secure feeling just being in here. I sit down, resting my back against the inner wall, letting this moment of calm wash over me. I close my eyes. It grows darker. Why is that? The hold I came through—it’s almost closed! I pull at it with all my strength, but it makes no difference. My fingers now barely fit inside. They have been forced back inside. The opening has completely closed. I am trapped inside with only the faint, warm light as company. It is of no comfort right now.

I feel something wet on my feet and buttocks. I reach down and touch wetness. Not like water; this is a thicker, viscous fluid that adheres to my hand. I cannot shake it off. I can’t see where it originates from but it is quickly filling in around me. I try to stand up but there is no room. I can only stand with knees bent. I reach above and use my hands to push at the top of the chamber but there is hardly any give. I try to push my fingers into its surface, but it has become harder. There is no longer any give to it. It is hard as rock. The fluid is still rising. It is now around my knees. It is a pinkish hue in the low light, like the color of diluted blood. I try to find its origin point, but it just seems to come from nowhere and everywhere. I want to get out. I don’t want this anymore. Why couldn’t they have asked me? Get me out, damn you! I’ve been with you this far. Whatever you are—stoop this now! This liquid is getting higher. Around my chest now. It is warm, but that is of no comfort. It won’t stop rising. How will I breathe? Is this some cruel joke? You can stop now. I can’t have come this far only to die in here! Damn you, let me out. Please, it has reached my neck now; I won’t be able to breathe! I can’t breathe liquid. I can’t just grow gills…can I? Touching my chin. Please let me go…