My Diary

2002-11-17

I got up early ---- breakfast was, basically, cornflakes ---- and headed off to the tilted-ring pillar, where I headed straight up into the forest.

About an hour of scrambling through bushes and pulling my way through assorted sharp shrubbery I finally reached the shore of the lake. Remember when I said yesterday it looked like a pleasant place to spend a lazy afternoon? I'm sure it is, but remember to pack your waders, because it's surrounded by some of the most glutinous mud I've ever seen.

It was around this point that my foot caught in a root and I fell full length into the mud. I felt a brief moment of panic as the sticky mud resisted my attempts to pull myself out of it, but I caught another root and managed to lever myself out. I was now so wet that when I finally reached the water, I just waded in and tried to wash myself down. Luckily, my digital watch, which I rely on, is waterproof.

The water was calm and, except for the cloud of silt where I was standing, completely clear. I could see little shoals of minnows swimming between the strands of weed. I say they were minnows: they looked more like miniature eels, thin and so wriggly that you could see their body S-curving through the water. But they acted like minnows.

One interesting feature of the lake: no birds (or bird-like creatures). Back in the woodland there was the occasional sound of something high in the trees, and periodically I would here one of the creatures that serenaded me that first night in the clearing, but there was nothing around here. I began to wonder about predators. For the island to work properly as an ecosystem, there must be predators, and while the lowlands may be manicured and safe, the mud told me that I was well out of the parkland.

I'm not used to dangerous wildlife. You don't get them in England. The most you have to worry about is getting mauled by a protective cow, and you can usually see them coming. What if this place had alligators? Piranha? It may look like a warm summer's day in Surrey, but I am most definitely not in Kansas any more...

That thing in the middle of the lake was a corner of something sticking up. In a surprising development, it wasn't glossy-white or black-glass or crystal. It was silver. It looked like there was something underwater, partly sticking up out of it.

This was a Clue. It was something that didn't fit. The rest of the island had been carefully mothballed, switched off, put into standby and evacuated. This thing had just been left here. Why, or what it was, I didn't know, but I had to find out.

I carefully scanned the water for ripples. Nothing. I took off my sweater and shirt, once pristine white and now mud coloured, and left them in the mud ---- they weren't going to get any dirtier and if I had to swim I didn't want them impeding me. I left the trousers because I didn't feel sufficiently secure to remove them. I did think about removing my trainers, but I didn't like the idea of stepping on whatever was down there in my bare feet.

So prepared, I began to wade out.

The water got deeper very quickly. Within ten metres I had to swim. In a way, this was a relief; swimming was easier and didn't make a silt cloud nearly as big. I knew that if there was anything here, I'd be a sitting duck, and I tried to disturb the surface as little as possible.

Well, surprise surprise, nothing ate me. I reached the object. It was big, and made of metal; if I rapped my knuckles against it, it felt solid.

It appeared to be roughly box-shaped, with rounded corners. Only one corner was projecting from the water, and this I sat on while peering around at it. I did notice that one side had a transparent panel, wholly submerged and difficult to see through; refraction made it a flat silver.

I got back into the water and started pulling myself around it, feeling it out with my feet. There was a big opening on one of the long sides, adjoining the transparent face, with some sort of plate hanging off it.

A bit like a door, really.

It took me about another ten minutes to work out what this thing was; a ship. A spaceship like the one that brought me here. It had been landed or crashed in the water, and had been abandoned, and was now lying here, mostly submerged, still with some air inside it...

Did it still work? (Unlikely.)

Could I get it running? (Probably not.)

If I could, would I trust it to take me home? (Ha!)

I contemplated diving down and through the door to see what was inside. But I'm not a good diver, and the air inside might well be foul, and it was a couple of metres down. The ship was almost certainly dead. If it wasn't, the original owners would have no doubt hauled it out of its watery grave.

With a certain amount of regret I swam back across the lake, collected my clothes and headed back.

Unfortunately (I seem to use that word a lot), clambering down through the undergrowth I slipped on some mud, slid several metres down a slope, caught my foot in a root and twisted it. I slowly and painfully hobbled back to the hotel, which thankfully wasn't far away, and I've spent most of the rest of the day in a hot bath. I don't think I've sprained it, which is at least something.

It's made me painfully aware of just how vulnerable I am here. Oh, I have food and shelter and am in no immediate danger (that I know of). But to live here long term... if I were to fall ill, or were to fall on a ladder and break my leg, there's no-one here to help me. I'd just lie there until I made it back here. Or, if I couldn't, until I died.

Even if I did make it to the hotel room, that's no guarantee of safety. I'm completely certain that this room has sophisticated medical systems. (They would after all, just be an extension of the food systems.) Do I know how to work them? Do I hell.

Oh, I suppose it's possible that if I were to become really sick, some emergency mechanism would notice and kick in. But what if I wake up with a headache and want an aspirin? Nice, simple chemical compound ---- acetylsalicylic acid. Should be a doddle for the chef systems to synthesise, if only I knew how to ask.

This place is fascinating. I could spend ages here, working it all out. But given the choice, I think I'd opt to go home. Right now.

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