7 - Dr. Livingstone, I Presume?

The morning was fraught with problems. A bad storm had risen overnight. High winds had shrieked across the huts’ roofs so loudly that many of Nathan’s classmates and, not least by the looks of it, the adults had slept badly (although he, mercifully had slept dream-free through it). Electricity was out to most of the area, which meant a cold breakfast of traditional, dense Danish bread (ok for those accustomed to it, tough chewing for those that weren’t) and cheese. Worse, there was no hot water. All but one hardy boy had elected to postpone their ablutions in favor of hopefully having a hot shower later.

So Nathan joined a fed but not satisfied, and dressed but not clean, group by the bus. The remnants of the storm still whipped at their jackets, like a ghost teasing them with a game of ‘lift the skirt’. One baseball cap was lost before they had even boarded the bus. Finally they got underway. The trip from Vigor to the Caves presented an opportunity to bask in the warmth of the bus’ heating system for all of three minutes, until they pulled into the Caves’ car park. The groans accompanying Mr. Priest’s announcement to leave the bus, were testimony to how popular the prospect was of descending into a cave system which was even colder than the outside.

Nathan, Christina, and Gail tailed the group as a guide escorted them into the Caves. The guide explained the significance of the former mining operation. Only Gail seemed to be listening, and gradually Nathan and Christina fell behind her as she kept up to hear what was being said. Gail had apparently gotten over her minor case of bat-o-phobia during the night, and was now desperate to see some bats. The guide had said that the bats might still be concealed in the myriad of cracks and crevices. After an hour of walking down and around passageways lit gloomily by recessed lights, they reached the two lakes which marked the furthest point that they could walk to. Students bickered and grumbled as breakfast wore off. Nathan had stashed a packet of peanuts in his pocket, so he kept the devil at bay by picking individual nuts out and tossing them into his mouth.

As they milled around the lakes, someone tossed a stone into one of them. The plopping noise was amplified by the cave’s acoustics. Nathan thought that the thrower was surely embarrassed in the way of people who expected a fart to slip out quietly, but were then mortified to discover that their shame was audible for all to hear. Mr. Priest’s face went molten and he spun wildly, looking for the culprit. Nathan saw Christina smirk, and tagged her as the prime suspect. After a minute, Mr. Priest gave up looking for a perp to berate. Their teacher gave an apologetic shrug to the guide, who looked as if someone had spat used chewing gum into a baptismal font.

Nathan took a tour. He tried to text his father a photo of the lakes, but was disgusted to find that his phone had no signal. They were too deep underground no doubt. At the back of the cave was a dimly lit passage leading off at an angle so acute that he couldn’t see round its bend. A string of lights, some of them broken, arced off. They roughly followed the wall’s contours, and cast ominous shadows across the floor. Unlike the main passageways, which had wide, wooden boardwalks to allow pedestrian movement, the floor of this passage was native, chalky stone. A tatty plastic chain, dangling almost to floor level, stretched across the passage’s opening. As Nathan turned to walk back to the group, he heard a chirping sound echo from down the passage. His pulse quickened. Was this one of Gail’s bats was making an appearance? He looked around. Gail and Christina were standing at a respectable distance from the edge of the lake, which still had ripples of evidence lapping at its edge. He decided to step over the chain and walk just around the passage’s corner, just to see if he could spot the furry flyer. He considered walking back to tell his friends where he was going, but decided that the bat may have gone by then. Anyway, he was only going to go a few steps round the bend.

Nathan moved down the passage, out of sight of the class. His breathing quickened. A feeling developed in his stomach which had nothing to do with digestion of the peanuts he had recently fed it. He stopped, and realized that he was a little afraid. But that was stupid! He could hear the babble behind him, now muffled and reverberated. Then he heard the chirping again. It was a clicking sound, as if a small, wooden mosquito was hovering next to his ear. The passageway straightened out after the initial bend he’d taken, and it was still well lit. He saw no problem going a little bit further, and walked slowly along the tunnel.  Soon he came to another bend. He touched his hand against the wall, as if this would magic some sort of navigational aid. More clicking. He followed the straight section until he reached a fork. At this point he knew he should turn back. Up until now he could easily get back by doing a one-eighty and walking back the way he’d come. Then he saw it.

The left corridor, which descended after splitting from its parent, was still lit by the daisy-chain lighting. Nathan saw a small, dark shape flit away from him. It cast a moving shadow on the wall so small that it hardly seemed there, but it was. The only problem was it was flying away from him. His instincts started yelling at him as they realized that his brain was actually considering following the bat. He knew he shouldn’t do it, yet something inside his mind willed him on. He looked back. There was nothing to see but passage, and nothing to hear except the now persistent noise of the bat, growing fainter by the second.

His brain finally overruled his instincts, and he shuffled down the left corridor. He placated his instincts by telling them that he would count fifty steps. If he didn’t find the bat, he would turn and jog back to the others. He reached forty-nine when he was plunged into darkness. It enveloped him, as if some unseen force was trying to push the darkness into his skin. He realized he was holding his breath, and his heart was racing. He let the air out of his lungs in a whoosh, and concentrated on his breathing as a meditation instructor had once taught him. In and out, in and out. Focus on the movement of air into, and out of your body. Imagine that the air is black (fat lot of good that was in this situation), and that you can see it moving.

His heartbeat slowed, and he tried to think. But as soon as he tried to reason, his brain started to imagine all the bad things that were likely to come of this (‘Oh, so now you’re scared,’ his instincts said in disgust). He held his hand in front of his eye, so close he could sense its proximity by its heat, but couldn’t see a thing. It really was dictionary definition of pitch black. He wished he had a light. Any light would do, even the faint glow of a bulb desperately sucking the remaining life out of a battery like a vampire draining its victim. Then he remembered his phone! He took it carefully from his trouser pocket and muscle-memoried the light icon with his finger. 

Nothing happened. 

Nathan groaned. He stabbed randomly at the screen a few times, then gave up and zipped the phone in his jacket. He felt behind him until his fingertips touched the wall. He was amazed at how different it felt in the dark. When he’d touched it earlier it had been simply to acknowledge that it was there, now his sense of touch was heightened by blindness. As he trailed invisible fingers along the wall he could sense a thin film of moisture. He seemed able to sense the rock beneath the wall’s surface, which was strange. Perhaps he was reading striations on the surface, translating them as if his fingers were tracing brail. 

He sniffed, hoping that the super-powers he seemed to have acquired in his fingers would be replicated in his nose, that he would be able to sniff his way back to the main tunnel where the others were. But he smelled nothing except a whiff which he acknowledged was his own sweat. His legs started to shake. He carefully maneuvered back against the wall and slid down it, ignoring the damp sensation coming through the a*s of his jeans. He put his hands on his head, gaining some comfort from the fact that Gail and Christina would notice him missing, report it, and a full-scale search and rescue effort that would surely make the Guinness Book of Records would be activated. 

The alternative was…a small sob escaped from his lips. It echoed mournfully as it traced its own path of escape which he could not follow. Nathan began to feel a tide of despair rise inside him.

“Nathan?”

The voice was no more than a whisper, and for a moment he thought it was his sob cruelly reflected back by the tunnel.

“Nathan?”

The voice was louder now. He turned his head to the left trying to pinpoint it. 

He whispered, “Christina, is that you?” Considering the situation, he wondered why he was whispering and not screaming.

‘“Don’t you remember me?”

Then he recognized the voice, and shuddered. It was the same voice he had dreamed on the bus. 

The voice said softly, “Do not be afraid.”

Easy for you to say, he thought. He wasn’t sure if it was the voice which reassured him, but he felt the panic subside and a calmness replace it. He held his arms out in front of him, half expecting yet half fearing to touch someone in front of him.

“Look to your right,” said the voice. “Can you see it?”

He turned his head to the right, and saw a faint glow in the distance. It was further down the tunnel, but the ambient light was enough to give his eyes what they needed to make out his situation. The tunnel began to descend steeply at exactly the point he had reached. Surely the voice didn’t expect him to move farther from safety?

“Who are you?” Nathan realized this was perhaps not the most pertinent question given the circumstances.

“I am your guide.” 

The voice seemed to be all around him, but he realized that was probably a trick of the tunnel’s acoustics. He now had enough light to see the tunnel curving back the way he’d come. He got up and moved fractionally to his left.

“Not that way,” said the voice.

He stared at his feet. They had turned towards the glow, and begun to shuffle towards the light. Other way idiots! he thought, but his feet had developed agency and began to move with purpose, leaving his body little choice but to follow.

He was not actually freaked out by his feet’s behavior, which was strange. After ten or so steps, the tunnel’s descent was marked by a stalagmite in the shape of a bowling pin. He thought that perhaps he’d better start cooperating with his feet to avoid any further disaster, like his head bashing into something hard and pointy. 

“Keep walking, Nathan. It is not far now.” 

Nathan decided to talk to the voice, on the basis that it was better to be talking to a mysterious voice at the end of a long, underground tunnel than talking to himself.

“Why can’t I see you?” Nathan cursed inwardly for not asking something more intelligent.

“You will soon.” 

A large rock obstructed part of the tunnel. He had to breath in to squeeze past it. 

“I hope you were not harmed.” 

He realized the importance of this statement. “You can see me!” He nervously looked back towards the rock, half expecting to see a pair of Gollum-esque eyes staring back at him.

“All will become clear.” The voice sounded amused. “Just keep walking.” 

He walked on for a few hundred meters, at which point the incline leveled out. Then something strange happened. He felt it before he touched it. The wispy hairs on his right arm, which was striding forward in time with his left leg, sprang up like soldiers standing to attention. He stopped and drew his arm back. The hairs settled back down. He inched his left hand forwards, and its hairs rose up too. 

“Go forward,” said the voice. “You will not be harmed.”

Well, I’ve come this far, he thought. He took a deep breath and strode forwards. The hairs on both arms leapt up in harmony. The hairs on the back of his neck, clearly feeling that they’d been missing out on the ‘fun’, joined the parade. He felt as if he had dived into water; as if he’d broken the boundary between air and liquid, but in such a way that time had deliberately slowed so he could feel the molecules sliding over him. There was no wetness or difference he could feel in his clothes, but the sensation was unmistakeable. He was traveling across a boundary, through a medium which he could not see, smell, or hear. He opened his mouth, half expecting water, or something worse, to rush into his lungs. But there was only air. Somehow this water-substance and air were co-existing.

He emerged from the barrier into…light! He couldn’t comprehend it. He was in-to light. It wrapped around, and hugged him. He felt warmed and enveloped by it. It was cozy, like being cocooned in his duvet on a cold, winter’s morning. Somehow he was able to snuggle into it. It felt good.

“How does the light bath feel?” asked the voice.

“Mmmmmm.” Nathan forgot everything that had happened to him and wished he could fall into the light and go to sleep in it.

“Interesting,” said the voice. “You respond well to the sensation. That is very promising.”

The in-to light withdrew, but not sharply. The individual rays gradually pulled back, a tangerine beam even tickled the fine hairs on the outside of his left ear in such a way that he giggled. It was only then that he saw with his eyes, and they grew wide; but not as wide as his mouth, which fell open as if his lower jaw had unhinged itself. It was not the size of the immense Cavern which made him gape, although that in itself would have been enough to make a seasoned geologist fall to their knees in wonder. It was what floated in the middle of the Cavern that astounded him.

Nathan stared at a huge Orb. It was about three meters wide and was bathed in light. For a moment Nathan thought it was translucent, as the light shifted and seemed to mirror itself. Patterns of geometric complexity swam around The (his brain had already elevated it to being worth of capitalization) Orb’s surface, several in a shining golden hue which hurt his eyes. Around them darker patterns drifted, ranging in color from light blue to dark grey. They formed shapes. One of them looked like the beak of some freakishly huge raven. Wisps of neon-blue energy seemed to be flexing themselves across the boundaries of the patterns. 

“Ah.” The voice sounded embarrassed. “One moment whilst I dry myself.”

The Orb shimmered, oscillating a few centimeters to the left and right. The array of light patterns slipped away from top to bottom, as if draining down an invisible black hole beneath The Orb. They were replaced by a dark metal sheen, which appeared to glow from inside.

The Orb rose several meters and drifted towards him. It stopped at what Nathan hoped was a non-threatening distance away. 

“Nathan Stromberg, I am most delighted to meet you.”

“Errrr…likewise?” Nathan wondered why he wasn’t freaking out right now.

The Orb inched closer. “May I entrust you with my Question?”

The look on Nathan’s face must have said everything he was not able to. The Orb bobbed, and Nathan thought he detected a minute discoloration in the metallic glow.

“My apologies. I am, as yet, unused to proximal human interaction. Let me rephrase, may I tell you my name?”

“Please do,” Nathan replied. 

“I have the honor of being called When Does the Learning Inspect the Remarkable Cause?”

Nathan, not knowing the formalities for being introduced to a floating, talking Orb, simply bowed. His father, he hoped, would have approved since he himself had once met the King and had passed on detailed bowing instructions (given by the educators of Royal protocol).

“I’m pleased to meet you.” Nathan had instantly forgotten The Orb’s name. “My name is Nathan Rockwell Stromberg.”