Walking through fluid space, with the wave-like wake of his passage preceding him. Surface tension keeps him from falling through. The rock solidity of the cave floor and somewhat leaky ceiling do help. Like a bee on a waterbed at night, he walks without surefootedness until startled. He is not sure he can fly.     Both qualities were fluid, the products of powerful thought- machines that worked behind the scenes here, powered by the raw energy that the bees emitted.