“...Max shudders, swallows the bitterness that has accumulated on his tongue. He suddenly becomes interested in what this thick water smells like and what it tastes like. Is the air under the cave ceiling cold? What does the gray, ash-like sand between the stones feel like? - Lou! - he calls again, and the water wrinkles like the folds of a protective suit. Its thin streams crawl over the stones and gray sand, slowly climb up Max’s legs, entangle the sealed joints, as if they want to seep inside. Max even forgets to breathe. I would pinch myself, but the suit gets in the way, covering the body completely, from head to toe. After many seconds, the water flows back into the crack, and Max, on weak legs, falls out, towards the shuttle. He looks at the drops of moisture remaining on his pant legs and now sparkling in the sun. He vows to never stop again on the way to the base. Never fly to the caves..."