The Exfiltrator by Garner Simmons (read after txt) 📗

“No. I’m fine… really.” She replied then realized she was whispering as well.  She self-consciously raised her voice to a normal level.  “It’s just so quiet down here.  I feel like I’m in church.”

He nodded at the obvious absurdity as they fell into an awkward silence.  For a long moment, neither spoke.

“So…” they both began again at once, then stopped.  “You first,” she said suppressing a smile.

“How’s it coming?  The photography, I mean.”

“Slower than I’d like.  But the end result is going to be spectacular.  The detail… the use of color, of linear design is just remarkable.  I feel the way whoever first discovered the cave paintings at Lascaux must have felt.”

Approaching the wall, Corbett half-nodded.  “Only I’d say these could easily predate Lascaux by at least 10,000 years, maybe more.  Look at the workmanship -- truly exquisite.”  Then pointing to the outline of a bison, he added, “And the very fact that the artist who created them used charcoal to outline the figures means we’ll be able to accurately carbon date them.”

Moving closer, he traced the fluid lines with his fingers being careful not to touch the surface.  “Funny, but moments like this made me decide to become an archeologist.  Science wants you to believe that it is primitive man’s ability to work with tools – hand axes and scrappers – that defines human progress.  But for me, it’s always been his ability to conceive of the world like this – in symbolic, purely representational terms.  It’s man’s creativity that transcends everything.”

Hearing the excitement in his voice reminded her of the way he had captivated her imagination the first time she had ever heard him speak.  Intoxicated by his insights, she turned back to stare at the wall once more.

“You’ll have to give me a guided tour when you’re done.”

“Absolutely.  Whenever…” She hesitated then stretched her body like a cat waking from a nap. “But right now I think what I need to do is move around.   Get the blood flowing.”

“Good idea,” he tried to look away as she bent forward touching her palms to the ground.  He caught himself staring at the curve of her spine.  “Listen,” he said, attempting to keep things professional, “Why don’t you take a break and come with me?  Get a look at the rest of the cave.”

“Really…?” she said brightening.  “I’d love to… I mean, it sounds like exactly what I need.  Just let me save the lights.”

He waited as she cut the power to the two side panels before switching on his LED flashlight once more.

As they moved down through the labyrinthine maze of subterranean hollows created by the flow of water over eons of time, they used the sound of the rushing water as their guide.  The sound grew louder and more pronounced the deeper they went.  In places where the rocks were slick and damp with moisture, she grabbed his arm to steady herself.  Once, as she started to fall, he caught her by the waist and held her until she found her footing.  Acutely aware of each other, they forced themselves to stay focused as they pressed ahead.

Rounding a giant rock formation created by the fusion of a stalactite and stalagmite melded into a single column over centuries, they finally reached the source of the sound – a jagged opening in the rock that allowed the underground river to burst into the open, tumbling downwards, cutting a channel through the flowstone.  Visible for roughly fifty meters, the water then abruptly disappeared into a narrow opening in the rock no more than a meter wide and was gone.

Clearly excited by the raw power of the rushing water, Ella gripped his arm, pulling her body against his.

“It’s so…” she raised her voice as she searched for a word to describe it without success.  “Beautiful,” she said simply at last.

Sensing the contact of her body still pressing against his, Corbett tried to ignore the feelings she was beginning to arouse.  Ella did the same, but found herself unable to release her grip.

“Hard to believe it’s the source of the same stream that runs beside the base camp,” she said raising her voice again to be heard above the torrent.

Playing the light across the rocks, Corbett discovered another continuation of the cave, a tunnel-like opening running off to the left.  Separating himself from Ella, he stepped closer.

“What’s that?” she asked, moving with him.

“Hard to say. Maybe another entrance from below.”

“Near the camp?”

“Possibly.  But we’ll have to save it for another day,” he said pointing the flashlight back the way they had come.  “Better head back.”

*****

By the time they returned to the wall painting, it was late.  Corbett checked his watch. “Time to head for camp. Wash up and see what culinary surprise Gorka’s prepared for us this evening,” he said, half teasing.

“That’s okay. I’m not that hungry. Besides, I want to finish what I’ve been working on before calling it a day.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.  You go ahead.  I’ll be fine.”

Smiling, she turned and moved back behind her camera.   Switching on the twin nine-light panels, she was about to insert her earbuds and turn on her music when she glanced over her shoulder to discover Corbett still standing there watching her.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“I was just thinking, maybe I could bring you something back.”

“Really…?” She smiled, pleased that he would even think to offer. “I mean, yes.  That sounds nice.  But please don’t go to any trouble…”

“No trouble.  I’ll be back.  Don’t work too hard.”

“When you love what you do, it isn’t work.” She smiled at him as he turned and headed back toward the lift once more.

The sudden prospect of spending time alone with him brought an unexpected rush of excitement.  Was his offer to bring her supper just his way of being nice or could