Basinger casually walked over the stream, shaking his head, while balancing himself upright.
“Where has he gone?” his voice exploded, as he panted, trying to inhale properly. “Just think – we might have had a good day on the beach, instead of going after him!”
“Is that him there?” Selina asked.
They looked up at the top of a hill, in front of them, where a dark figure stood, facing something.
“He seems to have found something ...!” Dexter spoke silently, keeping himself uninvolved.
There would be a good explanation for Burrell doing what he was doing. One of his jokes might have annoyed Basinger. He had been awake for most of the night.
The hill ascended more than they had noticed, and they strained themselves climbing it.
A full view of the island below started to appear, and it curved out, for five miles across.
He saw that it was the highest hill in a region that was flat.
When they reached the top, they were all tired and hungry.
“What is that ...?” Basinger mumbled, pointing to a structure, marching across to it.
“Is that structure made of the same material as the tower?” Selina asked exhausted, reaching the top.
“Yes, it is!” Dexter replied, from behind her.
He saw a small forest of vegetation surrounding the square structure. Then he saw that the forest had a pool of water in it, and that the land looked moist. His excitement grew, when he saw some of the edible plants that they had discovered. Then he saw food on the trees. It was a good place for them to stay!
It had a full view of their part of the island. The ground was fertile, and he thought about planting the seeds that he had collected. There only were small amounts of them, but they could easily get more. Their real problem would be to find enough meat.
Dexter watched Basinger and Burrell squabbling. Then they stood at its edge, silently discussing something, and they went around the structure.
He tiredly strolled over to Selina, and they eventually followed them around the structure.
Its foundations had slightly sunk into the ground at one side, and it was resting at an angle. Fawn mud surrounded its base, and he searched it for prints. Selina followed him and Darwin.
He could not imagine them scaling it, as it was too high, and it loomed above like a giant black box, with a smooth surface.
As he went around the corner, he saw that Basinger and Burrell were in a knee-high hole, arguing about how they should continue digging. They agreed about something, and then they showed him and Selina their discovery.
At the side of the structure, where Burrell had dug the hole, he saw faint lines, which was obviously a closed entrance. And he knew, by their attitude, that it was the only way that they could enter it.
He rummaged through some sticks, scattered about the outer vegetation, for a strong one. He settled for a stick similar to the one that Burrell was using, and he knelt at the side of them, and pulled muck from it, pushing it onto a heap, at his other side. He scraped and dug at the soil, but he barely made any distinguishable progress.
The trees hanging overhead allowed the sun through.
Then dimness went across the edge of his sight again, as a gust of wind rushed past, blowing the trees across the sun, and Basinger suddenly fell backwards, and the entrance opened.
Dexter instantly dropped his stick into the hole.
Then he saw Selina, pushing a stick into the structure, where she had found an opening mechanism. They had not seen her, and Basinger had fallen into it, to where the light met the dimness inside. He had been resting on it, while it had opened.
Its interior was remarkably clean, but incredibly dark and gloomy. There were no signs of water or dirt anywhere. The structure had to be airtight.
“Are you all right?” Selina asked, helping Basinger.
“Yes, I am fine!”
“Good timing!” Dexter congratulated Selina.
The sun’s beams radiated over them, and as Dexter moved into it, his eyesight adjusted to its dimness – and a large interior became visible.
“What’s that there?” Burrell exclaimed, from behind him.
It obviously was another entrance, which they soon found they could not open, and which did not seem to have anything to open it.
Basinger finally led them out of it, and they went around the structure.
“Do you want to go back to the cave to get a rope?” Burrell explained. “I made one long enough to throw over the top – to the other side – and we can fasten it to a tree.”
“Why do we want to climb up onto the roof?” Basinger asked. “This is pointless ...!”
“We could live here – instead of in that cave! There may be artifacts in it, which we could use ...!”
“Why would there be a door on the roof? What would artifacts be doing in there, on top of an island?”
“We do not need to go back to the cave ...!” Selina called out, towards Dexter, from an area at the trees.
“Why do we not need to go back ...?” Basinger moaned.
“There’s an old tree that we could climb up!”
After they had surveyed the fallen over tree, they gripped its wide trunk, and they pulled it over to the structure, where they lifted the end of it onto the top of the structure.
Basinger gripped the tree, and climbed up, using his arms and legs. Then Dexter began climbing it.
At the top, he instantly saw two small pillars, and that one of them looked like an entrance. Basinger went over to the entrance, while he watched Dexter examining the rest of it.
Dexter heard Selina and Burrell coming up the structure.
“Have you tried pushing it?” Burrell enquired patiently.
“Yes, at every angle ...!” Basinger replied.
Basinger tried again, and he felt its edge with his fingers. Burrell found a stick, and he tried to insert it in parts of it, then he gave up.
“Is that a keyhole?” Selina spoke, as she approached them, pointing at a mark, about half a meter away from them.
Dexter took the stick from Burrell, and he carefully inserted it into the hole; then he twirled it about.
A shuffling sound came from it, and a dark interior appeared, where the line of the entrance was; and Dexter saw a dark tunnel, going down into it.
“Well, how do we get down – never mind back up again?” Basinger asked.
“There’s something!” Burrell replied, holding his face close.
A shine came off a pole, with handles going down its side.
Basinger leant forward, and he grabbed it. Then he poked his leg into the entrance, putting it down upon a lower handle, and he climbed into it.
Dexter waited until he had vanished below somewhere, and he climbed into it, and rushed down after him.
At the bottom, he thought he saw Basinger standing, holding something, in a large black-walled room, but when he went near him, he saw him examining a machine, which resembled a black jukebox.
Various machines became visible about him, at different positions about the floor, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
They had the same black material as the structure, which he believed was one of the few materials to survive.
“If this is a computer – it may speak some English ...!”
What did Basinger actually want to know? He had intensely investigated everything he had come across. He was sure that Basinger was going to activate everything on it.
A high-pitched whistle screeched out startling him.
The machine burst into life, making hair-raising sounds, which had similarities to cat purrs, and creature tones; while a vivid green light flashed about bright illuminations, with shadows of Basinger’s figure in it.
“This thing may be dangerous! It may be better to just leave it – until we can at least test it – it could be anything!”
“Of course, you are right! It could be very dangerous! And I do not have the slightest idea what
it is!”
Once the machine had ceased reacting, with its lights and sounds, one light remained illuminated on it. And they ignored it, and climbed back up the pole. But while they were struggling to get out of the entrance, a giant black shadow became visible, and they observed a twenty-meter disc soaring above the structure.
Chapter 7
The Unknown Species of Human
In the crest of the morning sky, a bright whiteness soared against the upper atmosphere. For a brief moment its spectacular features deceived Dexter, making him believe that it was an aircraft, shining in the bright sun, but its distinct flame gave away its identity, and that it was another immense meteorite.
Dexter felt a sensation of balancing over the world, as he towered over the darkened view of the island. The warm sea breeze gently blew at his face. A rustle of dried animal skins came from him. He once again saw how visible the structure now was, with its dish activated.
He thought about building a plough, to plant the seeds that he would collect. His foot touched a small meteorite, embedded in the soil, at the edge of the hill, and he again wondered why the meteorites were so common, and the stars so densely packed. The others, who were resting in the structure, occasionally looked for them in the sky, as though they were a danger. But, as far as he knew, none of them had landed within a mile of them, so far.
So far he had only discovered one animal that might pull a plough, but he had only caught sight of the one. The beast resembled a miniature ox, but the animal had looked as though it might tire easy.
He believed that the structure was a good place to stay, especially with the lower entrance now open. However, it was not hidden, now that its dish was out; and they would regret it, if there were in fact dangerous occupants on the world. Yet their fears that there were humans left were gradually decreasing. They had not found one trace of humans. He was sure that the structure was a form of communications station. Dexter believed that it ought to be able to receive something – if there was anything in that part of the world.
If they had used helicopters to land on its roof, there might have been other bases near it.
Whatever it had been communicating with, surely had to have been in the direction of the other side of the island, where it was facing. However, they did not want to give away their presence, by using it. They did not know what they were dealing with yet.
He listened to faint tones from Basinger and Burrell, mingled with distant surges of waves, but their voices were too vague to hear properly. However, he could imagine what they were saying. They would be discussing the food that they had collected from the remaining vegetation.
He felt like searching the entire landscape for all the edible plants that there were. Their survival might some day rely on it.
While he went to leave, his foot dragged over the ground, pushing something open under the muck, revealing a deep hole. He pushed it further forward, shoving his weight against it, and it moved under the surface of the ground.
It had to be the cover of something; but he could only see a deep gap under it. However, as he removed the mud from about it, a perfect square shape became visible. He felt that it had a perfectly flat surface, without any blemishes; and as he wiped the mud from it, he saw that it had a shiny surface.
He knelt on the dirt, and he hypnotically peered at his reflection. There was no corrosion to it – it had to be part of the structure.
His unusual behavior soon drew the attention of the others. Basinger and Burrell casually strolled out of the structure, while they tried to see what he was doing; and Selina followed them. At their approach, Basinger saw the shiny side of it, and he briskly increased their pace.
They stopped at the same distance about him.
“What could it be?” Selina spoke, breaking the silence.
“What would whatever it is be doing there?” Burrell asked, looking around himself, and he watched Basinger push his head down into its narrow space.
“It’s deep ...!” Basinger explained, rubbing his fingers along its outer edge, covering his hand in muck. “Wait ...! I can hear some sounds, from something far below!”
There were no signs of anything at the bottom of it, and no apparent ladder, or way to get down into it. Dexter knelt next to him, and he pulled out a rock embedded in the ground, and he balanced it between his hands, then he carefully dropped it down its center. He listened, with his ear close to it, and he heard a faint thud.
“Let’s get some of the vines over there ...?” Burrell spoke anxiously. “There has to be something at the bottom of it!”
“It might only have been a type of drain ...!” Selina argued, from behind him.
“Why would they have made it out of metal, or whatever it is?”
“It might have been used to pump up water!” Basinger quickly answered.
“That would mean that there was something else here!” Burrell disclosed. “Well, why have we not found any bricks, metal, or anything ...?”
“They might have moved it away!”
“You have a point there!” Dexter replied. “Will we get all the vine ...?”
“What will we attach it to?” Selina asked, looking about her. “There is nothing here!”
“Yes, there is ...!” Basinger exclaimed.
“Where ...?”
Basinger bent over, and he pointed at what looked like a lump of metal, on the edge of it. He cleaned mud away from it, to show them a loop of the material, which obviously had something like a cable attached to it.
As they went towards the vegetation, Darwin ran out of some nearby bushes, and he reluctantly followed them. Dexter considered the discovery from various angles, trying to give himself some kind of idea of what it was they were dealing with. He accepted that it might have been a source of water.
If the island had many other structures, he was sure that it could have been a water pipe leading to a water supply. However, why did it need such a large pipe?
Once they had piled up the rope-like vine at its edge, they fixed it together, into one large rope, which Basinger attached securely to the loop.
Dexter fitted a harness, made from a piece of the vine, around his shoulders, and he attached it onto the rope. They then fed the vine down into it. The entire length of the pile fitted into it, but they were not sure if it reached the bottom.
After he had prepared himself, and he had fitted himself into the small space of the tunnel, using his back and legs to balance himself, he began to abseil into its darkness.
Dried dirt covered the sides of it, which flaked off, coating his back and legs.
Combinations of natural light mingled about him. His breathing grew loud, and he listened to the others discus his descent.
Darwin’s head peered down at him, resting over the edge. For a second, he looked as though he was going to pounce down at him.
Dexter occasionally stopped to balance himself, against the sides. Then he allowed the rope to whirl around the vine buckle, jerking occasionally, as a small knot went through it. The rope was strong enough, and he had checked it enough.
The exit shrank to a point of light, leaving him in a dim radiance. Just as he was slowing himself, the dim sides cleared of mud, and its shiny surface appeared, reflecting his face.
A faint sound of a voice came from above, and the walls vanished. Blackness engulfed him, and he stopped his descent. His body dangled back and forth, in the cool air, and he only heard silence about him. The noises from above went, and he heard the wind blowing through it.
He released the rope, through his clenched hand, and it spun about as he continued downwards. His body then jerked, and the large knot at the end of the rope caught in the harness.
His surroundings had not changed, and he looked downwards. An outline of something was below him, which surely was the ground, and he cursed himself for not getting more vine.
However, he realized that he could jump down as the ground was only at a distance of his height, and he unfastened t
he lower knot. The knot unfastened, and the vine slipped away, and he flew down, onto a pile of dry dirt.
Then he stretch his arm upwards, and discovered that the end of the rope was out of reach. He had badly underestimated the height of it. Even jumping at it, his hand was a meter away from it. He then realized that they could not hear him.
However, Basinger would eventually come down.
What was he in? He saw a floor, beneath the dirt, and he followed it along, observing traces of the ground. There were signs that it had been recently flooded with water. He was in a circle-shaped room, which he believed was a type of storage place, for something.
It was empty, with no other apparent entrances. It was like the remaining lower part of some type of structure. At his original position, he saw the rope, where it had been, dangling down from the above tunnel. They had obviously not moved it. There was nothing else left to do. He would just have to wait, to find out what the others would do.
As he tried to see the ground properly, he saw a faint shape in a mound of muck, which he had passed. Its peculiar shape became apparent, and he rubbed his fingers over a flat part of it, making bits of dried dirt crumble from it, revealing a shiny surface.
He tugged at its corner, and it broke away, leaving the lower floor revealed.
The materials that the object and structures were made of were fascinating. They could have been there for many millions of years.
He took a piece of his clothing, and he wiped the rest of the crusts of mud from it, revealing a line of dials, which he pushed and turned. The object seemed not to function, but as he moved away, his legs hit something. His legs seemed to have sunk into the muck, but he felt the ground below his feet. He then found that the muck that was in front of him was actually resting a few inches over the ground. Some mysterious force was lifting it. It firmly fixed the dirt where it was, and it withstood him stamping on it.
After he carefully considered it, he individually touched the dials, which he had moved, and the layer of dirt lifted up further.
The Black Hole Experiments Quadrilogy (2017) Page 20