I'd gone through some pretty weird shit as a deep-sea explorer, delving through trenches and abysses and fighting off giant squids, vicious anglerfish, and even more horrifying beasts. Yet nothing, and I mean nothing, prepared me for coming up onto the surface.
The government of my country Posodea, nestled on the western edge of the Indian Ocean, had explored the coastline of a land they called Africa. But they, like the other world powers, wanted to explore deeper and see what types of life lay above our deep ocean home. The discovery of space travel really spurred this surface obsession, but I still find it weird that we managed to explore space before the crust of our own planet.
So I was recruited by the government due to my success as a deep-sea explorer and, with a crew of five other people. We wore thin suits, full-body suits to protect our sensitive skin from the sun's rays and had on little masks that used science to make the oxygen and nitrogen heavy air safe for us, I guess.
After we passed through the surface bases set up by Posodea, we delved deep into the heart of Africa, through vast fields of a brittle version of sea grass and strange plants with brown trunks and green canopies our botanist called trees. All the plants were strange, but what really freaked me out were the animals we encountered.
Spotted creatures with four legs and necks stretching ten feet above the rest of their bodies to reach their food at the top of trees. Hulking beasts with leathery grey skin, sharp white tusks, and long appendages for scooping water into their mouths. They reminded me of whales--massive, yet gentle. Smaller animals with tiny horns that fled across fields, pursued by blindingly fast spotted predators. Golden beasts with shaggy manes that roared violently and dominantly, seemingly ruling these plains.
We ran into many issues with these creatures. We had to fend off "laughing" mammals as they tried to eat us. We spent three whole days, night included, traveling to through of the kings of the savannas. We had to bat away birds with feather-less necks as they swooped down one day when Jones, the botanist, collapsed from dehydration.
Despite the struggles, this surface land was beautiful, majestic, and incredible. These animals very fascinating (and terrifying), and I was still wrapping my head around the trees. Everything around here was so strange, so new. I felt like I was a child again.
One day, we came up over a rise and spotted something we had not seen in such abundance since we left the ocean. Water. Stretching out for miles, its coastline was lined with lush green trees rolling over hills. At first we thought it might have been the ocean, but our cartographer Garland told us we were still in the heart of Africa.
Thirsty, dry, and ready for water, we rushed to the water, stripping off our gear on the shore. We dove in, relishing in the cool and refreshing water. I spiraled through, diving deep down into the water. I spent several long minutes just gliding with my eyes closed, a smile on my face, until I got a distinct feeling I was being watched.
Uneasy, I opened my eyes and glanced up. The surface was perhaps fifty feet ahead, and I was at a murky twilight depth. I shifted my gaze down and my heart froze. Below me, three humans hovered with their vicious yet frightened faces glaring at me. They held spears in their hands and had their hair tied in tight braided knots.
I was terrified. Our government had assured us there were no people inland, that civilization and humanity only existed in the great oceans. My heart beat fast, thumping so hard I was sure these strange observers could feel it.
With no weapons, no way to defend myself, I did the natural thing. I turned and fled, racing back toward the safe and protective surface.