Diary of an Earthonaut

Day 1

The recycled air provides a constant monotonous tone, something familiar in the background while we went deep into the unknown.

"Earthonauts" we are called, or pioneers, or explorers. But really I just feel like a lab rat, strapped inside this fancy tin can hurtling towards the center of the planet.

"No," I answered on the psych eval, when asked if I get claustrophobic. But this was something different altogether.

My name is Liu Fukuyama, a geologist and botanist and the only one who comes from the civilian population. While everyone else is excited about exploring or finding treasure, I am curious as to what the secrets are hidden in the depths of our planet. Life has thrived on the surface for so long, but we don't even know what is buried underneath our feet.

But as for right now, I'd settle for a decent cup of coffee that hasn't been freeze-dried.

Our mission is to reach the Earth's core, a feat no human has ever attempted. Why not? I guess we always found the ground boring. We look up the stars, and out to the sea, but never down. And yet here we are, burrowing like overambitious termites.

Wish me luck, or perhaps just sanity. I feel like I'll need it.

Day 7

The novelty of burrowing has officially worn off. Even with cutting-edge tech, there's not much to look at beyond rock formations. So the crew has been coping in strange ways.

Warren, our resident engineer, has turned the maintenance tunnels into a makeshift parkour course. The only time he sits still is when his exosuit is charging. Speaking of which, I caught him yesterday making changes to them. He was muttering about "zero-gravity flips". I hope he knows what he's doing.

Sabrina is our communications specialist, who has been broadcasting her own pirate radio show. She has... a particular taste. The show broadcasts terrible synth music and even worse poetry readings. She says the planet's magnetic field provides excellent signal transmission. I guess today I learned? I tried explaining that we needed to minimize communication to the surface, to avoid interfereing with our nav systems.

"Liu, my dear, art transcends boundaries," she replied in a smug voice. "Besides, the FCC can't come down here. This vessel is one of a kind."

I wouldn't mind her "art" as much if it wasn't bootlegged, off-key versions of old pop songs.

Captain Finnegan is stoic, by-the-book, and somehow able to ignore the chaos around him. He spends his time staring intently at the navigation readings in the cockpit and rarely says a word, except to scold us for not following regulations.

I've been wondering if I'm the only sane one on this mission. Then again, what does sanity mean when we're all hurtling towards the planet's core?

Day 10

We've all retreated to our own quarters to sit with our sun lamps. The silence has become oppressive. Even Warren's shuffling and Sabrina's music would be prefereable to this. The rhythmic thrum of the drilling has ceased, replaced by an unsettling quiet that makes me wonder if my ears are still working. We've reached our designated end, a "stable zone" according to the geological map.

Something felt off. It started with a faint whisper, a sound I originally thought was the air recycling. But it persisted. A low, guttural moan seemed to emanate from the very rocks around us. I checked the sensors and came up empty. I asked Captain Finnegan. He checked the seismic sensors, the acoustic monitors, and even the igneometer, and nothing. No tremors, no vibrations. No natural activity could explain the sound.

I went to Sabrina. "Are you picking up anything on the comms?" I asked in a whisper.

"Nada," she replied. "Just the usual background radiation. Why? Are you hearing things?"

I hesistated, not wanting to sound like I was losing my mind. "No. Maybe. Just a weird sound is all. Probably nothing."

But it wasn't nothing. The moaning grew louder. It morphed later that day into a series of clicks and whistles, like some kind of alien language that penetrated my bones and bypassed the sensors. I felt something primal inside of me, like I was being watched... or hunted...

I've been trying to rationalize it. Maybe there's some undiscovered geological phenomenon, or a strange acoustic property due to the pressure differential. I have been in the library all day, but I'm having trouble concentrating on the words. I've read too many sci-fi novels. I have an active imagination.

I should be asleep by now, but this has just been nagging in my mind. We aren't alone down here.

Day 12

We've officially plugned deeper into the planet than any human, probe, or drill has ever dared venture. The pressure readings are off the charts, and the heat is nigh unbearable even in our reinforced hull. We're pushing the limits of current technology.

Today the sensors were screaming. There weren't any warnings or malfunctions, but with readings so bizarre they defied rationalism. Life signs. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands. They were swarming around us, a pulsing mass of unknown entities.

"What is this?" Warren asked, missing his usual bravado.

"It's not geological," Sabrina stammered as she ran algorithms across her console. "The readings are organic. Biological."

Captain Finnegan's face was pale, but his voice remained clear and steady. "Activate the external cameras. Maximize magnification."

The monitors flickered to life, which revealed a sight that sent chills down my spine. The darkness outside was teeming with life. They were creatures unlike anything I'd ever seen, even in my nightmares. They were bioluminescent, with bodies shifting and morphing. Their forms were fluid and ethereal. My first thought was jellyfish, but their whole body seemed to be made up of small tentacles like a horde of worms.

"They're not showing any aggression," Sabrina reported. "They are definitely curious."

"Curious? Looks like they're going to make us their next meal," Warren scoffed.

"They're studying us," I realized.

"Maintain formation," the captain ordered. "No sudden movements. Liu, can you try establishing communiction? Sabrina, ready a distress signal just in case."

A distress signal? In the deepest reaches of the Earth? Who would hear it? We were alone, trapped in a metal coffin in a vast alien ocean.

I was the only one who came here seeking knowledge, but now I was faced with the terrifying reality that some doors were best left unopened.

Day 14

The creatures... entities...? Whatever they are, they remain an enigma. They haven't attacked, nor retreated. They just are existing. A constant pulsation tells us they remain outside our vessel.

Communication attempts have been futile. They don't repsond to any of our signals, nor any of our languages, not even basic attempts at mathematical or visual communications. It's like trying to speak with a rock. A sentient rock, one that is capable of bypassing our sensor systems and enter our vessel.

Yes, you read that right. They've gotten inside.

It started with a faint shimmer, a distortion in the air. Then, one by one, they started materializing in our living quarters. There were no breaches in the hull nor any alarms triggered. They just started appearing, as if they were always here and waiting for the moment to reveal themselves.

Our fear turned to awe. They moved with an otherworldy grace, their forms moving like a droplet back and forth as it made its way across the vessel. They observed us. Then, one of them approached me.

It extended one of its long, slender appendages. Its touch was surprisingly gentle. A jolt of energy surged through me. It didn't hurt. It was enlightening. Images flooded my mind: swirling galaxies, stars exploding and forming, the intricate interconnectedness of all life in the universe.

Suddenly I understood.

They weren't aliens, they were caretakers. They were an ancient species who had been here since the planet formed around them. They had witnessed the formation of the continents, the primordial sea, and the Cambrian explosion. They were curious about the planet, as curious about the outside world as we were about the inside.

Then, as suddenly as they appeared, they vanished. We were left again in silence, in the depths of the Earth, with a newfound understanding of our place in the universe.

We ascended slowly. Our mission was deemed a failure. But all four of us had been transformed. We didn't find treasure, but encountered beings beyond our comprehension.

We the Earthonauts, had seen ourselves as explorers and. But we had turned back into students. And the Earth was our teacher.