A Strange Floating Mat

Imagine if the stranger on whom Arthur has fallen asleep should turn out to be useful.

This occurs to Arthur as well.

He dreams that the stranger shakes him by the shoulder and says: My name is Radu. Come with me, and I will show you bizarre new species of spiders, scorpions, woodlice and centipedes living on a strange floating mat of bacteria.......

Arthur wakes up, feeling itchy.

As though he has been floating on a strange mat of bacteria.

And the stranger, on whom he has rested his head for an hour, says: Do I know you?

Turns out, the stranger has an interest in cycling.

They exchange bike talk, about the Tour de France, Froomey, and aluminium versus carbon fibre bike frames.

What are you doing in Bucharest? asks Radu.

Passing through, says Arthur. On my way to an underground cave in a barren featureless plain. Don't suppose you know where there might be a dive shop?

No, I don't, sorry, says Radu.

And this is where dreams differ unhelpfully from reality.

For if Arthur had fallen asleep in the other direction ( toppled right onto Nicolae instead of left onto Radu, for example), he would have fallen asleep on Nicolae, who knows the whereabouts of a dive shop, the Scuba Diver Centre on Soseaua Stefan Cel Mare, which supplies scuba equipment for lake and cave diving which is something they do a lot of, in Romania.

But Nicolae has left the night club already.

Eleven am. Gaius and Proust are sitting outside at the Café Van Gogh.

Gaius is drinking a glass of tap water. Proust is sipping a fresh lemonade sweetened with honey.

This cave, says Gaius. Have you considered it might be sealed off?

I have considered it, says Proust. In that case I shall make use of my contacts.

Shouldn't you make use of them now? says Gaius. While we're in civilisation?

No, I view this enterprise as a challenge. I'm already surprised by my tenacity, says Proust, coughing delicately, and wiping his lips with an aloe vera impregnated paper tissue, of which he has an endless supply in his pocket.

A fleeting thought visits Gaius. Why would a microbiologist be surprised by his own tenacity?

Arthur appears. The fleeting thought flits away.

Arthur! Well done. On time I see, says Gaius. Did you have a good night? You young people....

Arthur sits down, looking peaky.

Have a bite to eat, says Proust. The Italian burger with wedges looks nice.

Thank you, says Arthur.

Proust is taken aback. Does this mean Arthur thinks HE will fork out for an Italian burger with wedges?

Rather than look like a person who has made a basic social error of this kind, he orders and pays for Arthur's breakfast, proving that he, like an Italian burger, although in quite different circumstances, can also be nice.

And have you had time to organise our breathing apparatus? asks Proust.

Getting there, says Arthur.

What's this for? asks Gaius.

For diving in the murky waters of the lake, says Proust. To explore the rest of the cave, we must dive into the lake and follow the narrow underwater passageways, squeeze ourselves through tiny gaps where getting stuck could be lethal......

Right, says Gaius.

A word which does not adequately cover all he is thinking.