When The Sand Shifts

Proust, Albertine and Arthur cycle along the esplanade at Neptun.

On one side, hotels, funfairs, stalls, ice cream shops....

On the other, sea, white sands, rows of straw-topped beach umbrellas, and plastic lounges.

She won't be out yet, says Albertine. You guys wait here, and I'll find her.

Albertine disappears into the Hotel Callatis.

Arthur and Proust sit down under a beach umbrella.

I think we have to pay for these seats, says Proust.

Right, says Arthur.

A man comes up.

You have to pay to sit under these umbrellas, says the man. Five euros.

We're waiting for our aunt, says Arthur.

The duchess? asks the man. She sometimes sits here.

Yes, says Arthur. The duchess.

Okay, says the man. You can wait here for the duchess.

He goes off to harass someone else.

Duchess! says Proust. You don't suppose Albertine's aunt is a duchess?

We can ask her, says Arthur. Here they come now.

Albertine and a woman, who looks likes Albertine, stroll over the road in a leisurely fashion, and stop at the straw beach umbrella.

Proust and Arthur stand up (in case she's a duchess).

Aunt Daniel, says Albertine, her eyes flicking between them, these are my friends, Marcel Proust and Arthur Rimbaud. Marcel is the writer, and Arthur is a poet.

Delighted to meet you, says Aunt Daniel. I too am a writer. Do sit down again, both of you. Dear me, what are those bandages?

Arthur fell down a a shaft, says Albertine, and landed on broken bottles. Then he fell into a lake full of poison bacteria. He did it on purpose.

Goodness, what we writers do for our art! says Aunt Daniel. I do hope your knees won't go septic. You're such a handsome boy, too.

Arthur scowls, and sits down heavily on the lounge, which tips sideways.

Careful dear, says Aunt Daniel. Sometimes the sand shifts.

Albertine sniggers.

Proust feels he is being ignored.

I believe, Aunt Daniel, that your book is about a collection of Daniels, one of whom is of particular interest to a member of our party.

Ah yes, says Aunt Daniel. Do you?

Yes, aunt, says Albertine. All the Daniels, remember?

Aunt Daniel looks vague for a moment. All the Daniels?

Yes!..... Oh you're hopeless!

Sorry! I really can't do this, Albertine.

And they collapse into snorts of vulgar laughter.

I say, you young people, clear orf! says an elderly lady, looming up behind them

Crumbs! She'll be the duchess.

........

Later, the same morning:

Gaius is cycling towards Neptun, with Daniel O'Connell the spider, in a bottle.

Daniel O'Connell is triumphant.

Daniel O'Connell: Tiddley-doo! 'tis a fine morning!

Gaius: For you. I should have liked to stay longer in the underground labs.

Daniel O'Connell: To be sure, you learned all you could, from that fakery. Which was nothin'.

Gaius: If it was fakery ...

Daniel O'Connell: I know, I know. Why did I eat the exhibits?  And the answer is, Liberty!

Gaius: You have the wrong idea about liberty. No doubt Albertine's aunt will set you straight on the political ideals of your namesake.

Daniel O'Connell: Knowledge! Politics! Liberty! Bird's milk! Tooraloo! Tooraloo!

That's How Close They Were

Next morning, Gaius meets the microbiologists in the cafeteria.

Cristian has brought Daniel O'Connell, in the bottle.

What a relief! says Gaius. I thought I'd mislaid him.

No, says Cristian. He was with me.

Did he say anything further? asks Gaius.

SAY anything! says Rich. The spider? You're kidding!

Cristian shakes his head. No, of course not.

Daniel O'Connell grins at Gaius through the glass side of his bottle.

This spider has made a remarkable adjustment to our atmosphere, says Cristian.

Never underestimate an Irishman, says Daniel O'Connell.

Cristian and Rich hear these words from the mouth of Daniel O'Connell.

This needs further investigation, says Rich. Let's take him down to the labs.

Is there a chance of breakfast first? asks Gaius.

I'll look in the fridge, says Cristian.

He opens the fridge, and comes back with a bowl of lapte de pasare (cold birds' milk).

Leftovers from last night, says Cristian. Should be yummy.

It's too rich for Gaius's taste. Vanilla custard with meringue floating islands.

But what can he do? He is a guest of these people.

 He offers some to Daniel O'Connell.

Bliss and paradise! It's Daniel O'Connell's new favourite!

When they have eaten they head off to the underground labs where the Movile cave's physico-chemical conditions are reproduced, to give Gaius a tour, and to further probe Daniel O'Connell.

..........

Later that morning  Albertine, Proust and Arthur are cycling towards Neptun resort in Mangalia.

Not wanting a tour of the underground labs, Arthur has added himself to the Neptun expedition.

Proust, riding alongside Albertine, tries to gauge her feelings for Arthur.

All last night he lay on the floor behind Arthur, hearing Albertine breathing.

Uh-huh.

Once, she had hiccuped. A charming occurrence.

And then he had been obliged to turn his attention to Arthur, due to Arthur's hair irritating his nose.

That's how close they were.

In all, he had not slept well. And now, his excursion with Albertine to discover whether she has been lying about her aunt's name and her literary endeavours, is certain to be rendered less simple by the presence of Arthur, who it seems must again be her favourite, since she has re-bandaged his knees with the other half of the scarf she had tucked back into her knickers after the accident, and which he had hoped once again to find wrapped around the seat of his bicycle, for reasons of comfort, and which, though he hardly likes to admit it, would also touch on the erotic.

Proust sighs and keeps pedalling.

In Mangalia, the sea breezes are stronger, in the summer.

The three cyclists blow into Neptun.....

With All Of That Sunshine

I'd better be going, says Albertine.

So soon? says Proust.

It's two thirty in the morning, says Albertine. My...err... aunt will be worried.

Where is she staying? asks Gaius.

Neptun, says Albertine. It's 8k down the coast. It won't take me long to get there.

Neptun? says Gaius. Named after Neptune?

Yes, says Albertine. The resorts all have funny gods' names. There's Jupiter, Neptun, Olimp, Saturn and Venus.

I had no idea she was staying nearby, says Proust. I should like to meet her. May I come with you?

Wup! says Albertine.

Proust has no idea what to make of this answer.

Whatever happens must wait until morning, says Gaius. Cristian?

Absolutely, says Cristian, looking up from his examination of Daniel O'Connell the spider. What are we saying?

Albertine must stay until daybreak, says Gaius. I would offer her my bed, but I fear I have sullied the sheets.

Cristian looks as though he would rather not have heard this.

With cheese notes, says Gaius. I hope you weren't thinking....

No no, says Cristian. One man's cheese note....

Hundreds of them, says Gaius. Screwed up and discarded. I was attempting to come up with some questions to which the only answer was cheese.

What's the answer to a question to which the only answer is cheese? says Arthur.

Brilliant! says Gaius. I wish I'd asked you in the first place. In fact it's too late now. The spider has graduated to a level far beyond common nouns.

As for the screwed up paper, says Albertine, that won't bother me. I'll sleep in your room.

You all will, says Cristian. This is not a hotel.

Wup! All in the same room!

So Gaius, Arthur, Proust and Albertine retire to Gaius's room for the rest of the night.

Albertine has the cheese bed.

Gaius, an armchair.

Arthur and Proust sleep side by side on the floor.

Proust can't sleep, being so close to Arthur.

Pity the floor is so hard.

.......

Daniel O'Connell is the lucky one.

He is in Cristian's room, under a light and microscope, being further examined.

And sure, 'tis like being in Ireland, with all of that sunshine......

Now With A Famous Uncle

Did you all hear that? says Gaius. The spider has spoken a sentence!

In a Scottish accent, says Proust.

Albertine laughs.

Irish! says Daniel O'Connell the spider. 'Twas meant to be Irish.

Can you say CHEESE? asks Gaius.

JEEZ! says Daniel O'Connell. Why would you want to hear that?

Verification, says Gaius. I now have a pencil.

But no paper, says Arthur.

So, says Albertine, to Daniel O'Connell. You know one thing about Daniel O'Connell.

Three things, girlie, says Daniel O'Connell. One, my name. Two, I am Irish. Three, I have a nickname, although I have just this minute forgotten it.

Your'e so cute, says Albertine. I love your accent.

And will you be telling me my nickname again? asks Daniel O'Connell.

Liberator, says Albertine. And you had a famous uncle whose name was Muiris a' Chaipín, which means Hunting Cap. He was a farmer, a money lender and a smuggler.

Daniel O'Connell, 'Liberator', now with a famous uncle, looks proud.

As it is only two kilometres to the field centre, it doesn't take long to get there.

In fact, here we are. It is two o'clock in the morning, and the field centre is quiet.

Its white walls glimmer behind leafy shadows.

A light appears in a window. A face. The face disappears. A door opens and Cristian emerges in his pyjamas.

What's going on here? asks Cristian.

Now is the time for Gaius to come up with a concocted story.

Cristian! says Gaius. Would you believe it? The spider .......

He stops. Should he say that the spider escaped? Where would that lead? How would the key fit in...?

Escaped? says Cristian. Happens all the time. Come inside. Goodness me. What has happened to Arthur? His legs are covered in blood and tiny crustaceans.

Yes, says Gaius. You see, what happened was....

It is obvious what happened, says Cristian. And I suppose the key was lost in the process. Never mind. I blame myself. Should have asked for it earlier. Doesn't matter. I have a duplicate.

Well! Gaius has no need to concoct a story. Truth will out on its own.

Now that is cleared up satisfactorily, says Gaius, I must tell you that I ...we... have made a remarkable discovery, concerning the spider.

It talks, laughs Cristian..... ha ha... don't mind me... just my odd sense of humour....what have you discovered?

'Tis meself that has discovered it, says Daniel O'Connell. I am the nephew of Hunting Cap, the farmer, moneylender and smuggler.

But Cristian will only hear it from a fellow scientist. He disregards Daniel O'Connell. What would a spider know? And his accent is foreign and funny.

Now Gaius is in a difficult situation.

Cristian has preempted his discovery, turned it into a joke, and refused to listen to the spider. Gaius himself has not yet had a chance to make notes, having no paper.

All that remains is the less interesting discovery.

The spider remains sentient, says Gaius.

I Know Very Little About Me

Albertine looks at Arthur's knees, doubtfully.

Can you ride with those knees? asks Albertine.

I can't ride without them, says Arthur.

Albertine laughs.

Proust grits his teeth. Arthur's joke is unworthy of Albertine's laughter. Therefore she can be laughing for only one reason. She wants to annoy him, and she has succeeded.

Arthur is made of stern stuff, says Gaius. In that, he is very like me.

It has never occurred to Arthur that he is like Gaius.

Everyone ready? says Gaius.

Shouldn't we lock up first, says Proust. Who has the key?

He knows who has it.

Yes, of course, says Gaius. Arthur has it. Arthur, the key!

Arthur feels in his pocket.

I must have lost it, says Arthur.

NOW we're in trouble, says Proust.

No doubt it's at the bottom of the lake, says Gaius. And I have no intention of returning. We shall have to concoct a story.

Arthur wonders if he is still hallucinating. Gaius, concocting a story!

Gaius closes the airtight lid that covers the entrance to the shaft leading down to the Movile cave.

He wedges a twig though the padlock.

Will that twig be part of the story? asks Arthur.

It could be, says Gaius. I hadn't thought that far ahead. Now who's got the spider?

I have, says Albertine. But his lid's off.

That doesn't matter, says Gaius. He is used to both types of atmosphere now. And this fresh night air may provoke him into further utterances.

I'll listen out, says Albertine.

They get on their bikes and start cycling back to the field centre. The moon has come up. The grasses and pebbles are gleaming.

Albertine looks in on the spider.

All right, Daniel? she asks.

Daniel O'Connell, says the spider.

Holy guacamole! says Albertine. He said Daniel O'Connell!

Gaius rides up beside her.

Perhaps you misheard him, says Gaius.

No I didn't, says Albertine.

But there is no reason why he should say Daniel O'Connell, says Gaius.

What if he thinks it's his name? says Albertine. Marcel and I were just talking about Daniel O'Connell.

Why were you talking about Daniel O'Connell? asks Arthur.

Albertine was telling me about her aunt's book, says Proust. It's called the Book of Daniel because it's about various Daniels. One of them is Daniel O'Connell.

Are you suggesting the spider overheard this? asks Gaius. If so, that would be a remarkable feat of hearing, on the part of the spider.

I shouted it, says Albertine. So that Marcel could hear me.

Gaius looks in on the spider.

Are you Daniel O'Connell?

I am that fellow, says Daniel O'Connell. But to be sure, I know very little about me.

Two Reasons For Withholding Water

Gaius, Arthur and Daniel O'Connell, the Liberator, (in his bottle), have now reached the top of the shaft, where Proust and Albertine are waiting.

Gaius hands the bottle to Albertine, and clambers out, followed by Arthur.

Arthur, says Albertine. You survived! What are your knees like?

Pretty putrid, says Arthur.

That is not surprising, says Gaius. All that bacteria.....when we get back to the field centre, if you'll allow me, I'll take a swab.

That may be too late, says Albertine. Has anyone got any water?

Proust imagines himself producing a small canteen of fresh water, which would impress Albertine, but when he further imagines her gently wiping Arthur's putrid knees as her dark hair falls forward and softly tickles Arthur's dirty bare legs on which are even now drying bacterial strands and tiny dying crustaceans which no doubt she will spot with that sharp eyesight she is so proud of..... the idea becomes hateful to him, and he is pleased when he remembers he has not, in fact, brought any water.

Me! cries Daniel O'Connell.

The lid of his bottle is off.  ( It is in Arthur's pocket).

Did you hear that? says Gaius.

What? asks Arthur, whose ears are partly blocked from his dunking.

It came from Daniel the spider, says Albertine. He said something that sounded like ME!

Arthur, where is my pencil! cries Gaius.

I gave it to you, says Arthur.

So you did, says Gaius. Where is it... ah! By the way, Marcel, here is your mechanical arm. And I might tell you, Arthur found it quite useful.

He thrusts it at Proust.

Albertine looks surprised.

Proust is not happy.

Gaius is now looking for paper.

No paper! Then I shall have to enlist everyone's memory. The spider has spoken. Are we all agreed he said CHEESE ?

He said ME , says Albertine. Or something like it.

Something like it, says Gaius. What vowel did you hear?

EE, says Albertine.

Then I put it to you, says Gaius, that he must have said CHEESE. It is the only word he is capable of saying.

Okay, says Albertine. Cheese then. It's all the same to me.

Only Daniel the spider knows that he said ME and not cheese this time ( Proust wasn't listening).

He said it because he thought that he had some water.

He was going to offer it.

He, Daniel O'Connell the Liberator, was going to offer his water.

But in the meantime he has remembered that Gaius tipped out the water, after the incident.

So there is no water.

And it was the wrong sort of water, in any case, come to think of it.

Daniel is glad. Eating those water scorpions was the best thing he's done in a long time.

The Liberator

Proust and Albertine converse as they climb up the rope.

Proust: Are there other Daniels?

Albertine: In my aunt's Book of Daniel? Yes.

Proust: I was referring to real ones.

Albertine: They are real ones. The first one is Daniel, or Belteshezzar, the interpreter of dreams. The second is Daniel Radcliffe, the boy wizard.

Proust: Your aunt is in error. Daniel Radcliffe is not a boy wizard. He is an actor.

Albertine: He plays a boy wizard. The third is Daniel Craig, the secret agent.

Proust: Another actor, playing James Bond. Your aunt is deranged.

Albertine: Quite likely. The fourth one is Daniel Boone, the pioneer and folk hero.

Proust: Who does he play?

Albertine: You mean, who plays him?

Proust: No, that would not seem to be necessary.

Albertine: Ha! Now you get it.

Proust: Hmm. Let us see if I get it. Are there any more of them?

Albertine: Daniel O'Connell, the Liberator. Irish reformer. A real person.

Proust: What did you say? I'm at the top now.

Albertine: I said DANIEL O'CONNELL. The LIBERATOR!

Proust: Oh yes, of course. Him.

.......

As this conversation proceeds up and down the rope, the louder words bounce through the underground passage to Arthur and Gaius.

That is, the words bounce down and along.

Upwards too, but no one is up there, until Proust is.

And then, as we know, he has trouble hearing, which is why Albertine has to repeat them.

The result is, Daniel the spider.... but we need to bounce backwards in time, a few seconds....

Here we are back a few seconds, (anticipating the future, but not knowing it exactly).

Gaius is holding the bottle aloft.

It is illuminated by the light on his helmet.

He is not looking at it particularly.

Then he is.

And what he sees is: Daniel the spider eating the last of the water scorpions.

He is annoyed with himself, for not foreseeing that this might happen.

He unscrews the lid of the bottle.

Here. Hold this, Arthur.

Arthur takes the lid, and shoves it into his pocket.

Gaius reaches into the bottle. Lifts out Daniel by his cephalothorax.

Daniel is in the air now and the first thing he hears is:

(having caught up those few seconds)

DANIEL O'CONNELL, the LIBERATOR!

And he thinks to himself: A proud name. I like it.

And then he thinks further: Perhaps a liberator ought not to eat water scorpions.

And in another few seconds he will justify his misdemeanour: But of course, now they are free.

An Unexpected Delivery

You have a message, coughs Proust. Shall we pause while you read it?

No, coughs Albertine. It won't be important.

But how do you know? persists Proust.

It's just from my aunt, says Albertine. Let's get up the rope and into the starlight.

All right, says Proust. But I couldn't help noticing her name was Daniel.

Does Albertine hesitate? Or is she suppressing a cough?

A-h-um, says Albertine, She goes by the name of Daniel, my aunt. Her real name is Danielle.

Proust's ears prick up at this.

How fascinating. And do you ever call yourself Albert?

No, says Albertine. I am not like that. Nor is she. It's just that she's writing a book at the moment, the Book of Daniel.

That book has already been written, says Proust.

It's already been written twice, says Albertine. Have you read Bel and the Dragon? That is also a Book of Daniel. In it, Daniel escapes being eaten by lions by means of an unexpected delivery.

You mean, I suppose, a deliverance, says Proust.

No, says Albertine, I see you don't know it. Daniel receives an unexpected delivery of stew.

And the lions eat it? says Proust. Instead of eating Daniel?

No, says Albertine. Daniel eats it.

They have now reached the end of the narrow stone passage where a pile of broken glass marks the place where the rope to the surface is dangling.

You go first, says Proust.

No, says Albertine. You go first. I am wearing a travelling skirt.

You didn't worry about that on the way down, says Proust. You were on the rope above Arthur.

Arthur is different, says Albertine. Arthur stays focused.

You admire that? asks Proust.

In the end I found him too reckless, says Albertine. Cut by broken glass, bitten, drowning, all to compose a mad poem....

Too reckless! This is promising.

But the aunt and stew story is decidedly suspect.

.......

Meanwhile, Arthur has pulled himself out of the toxic lake, assisted by Gaius.

What happened to your knees! says Gaius.

Arthur had forgotten. He looks down at his knees.

They are loosely bandaged with the colourful scarf that Albertine tore into strips for him.

The scarf strips are entangled with slimy bacterial strands to which cling tiny water creatures, opening and closing their spiracles. O!!! where are we????

Water scorpions! says Gaius. Allow me.

He opens the bottle containing Daniel the spider ( named after Albertine's aunt).

Daniel breathes in (without the use of any active muscular breathing mechanism) the refreshing methane and sulphurous air.

At once he remembers that he has relatives in the Canaries. Yes! He wants to go there!

But what happens next is a let down. Gaius dips the bottle into the bacterial lake, and half fills it with water.

He gently lowers three water scorpions inside.

Look, says Gaius ( to Arthur, not Daniel) See their scythe-like front legs, and the long thin whip-like structure at their posterior ends? This tail, made up of two attached respiratory tubes, is extended above the surface of the water to take in air. Remarkable! Do you see that?

Daniel sees that.

But Arthur is not paying attention. Arthur is coughing.

Time to get going.

Gaius checks off the bottle, the pencil, the mechanical arm, Arthur. That's everything.

Everything but the key.

A Rabid Drowned Figure Is Sinking

Jumping Jupiter! What has happened to Arthur? cries Gaius.

He fell in, says Albertine. But really, there's only so much one can do.

Hearing this Proust feels strangely excited. So, she's gone off him already?

Gaius is wasting no time.

He steps onto a stone ledge jutting over the black matted water, near where Arthur is floating, nose up.

Arthur, says Gaius. Foolish boy. There was no need. Are you breathing?

Arthur's eyes roll. A rabid drowned figure is sinking, says Arthur.

Oh very good, says Proust. He's composing a poem.

He's a talented lad, says Gaius. But he does tend to go to extremes for his art form.

Gaius leans forward and begins to pull Arthur out of the water.

Not yet! says Arthur.

All right, says Gaius. Then make yourself useful. Reach down and feel for my pencil.

Arthur reaches down but he can't feel the bottom.

Shakes his head. Too bad. Can't find it.

Try this, says Proust, producing from behind his back the mechanical arm with which he had hoped to surprise Albertine (and may yet surprise her).

Good thinking, Marcel, says Gaius. Here you are, Arthur. Reach down with this. How does it work?... yes, see....you put pressure on the handle to close the mechanical fingers.

Is Arthur up to this, in his present condition?

Arthur thrusts the mechanical arm into the sludge at the lake's bottom. Swishes it around, hits something, squeezes the handle, retracts the arm and raises it, presenting it, dripping, to Gaius.

That is excellently done, says Gaius. You've recovered my pencil. Now, let me help you out, Arthur.

Aouuh! says Albertine, coughing.

Dear me, says Gaius. You must go, my dear. Marcel, why don't you escort Albertine back to the entrance?

With pleasure, says Marcel. He is delighted. And it's not he who is coughing.

The trouble with thinking about not coughing is..... you want to start coughing.

Chughh! coughs Proust.

He and Albertine, both coughing, make their way back to the narrow passage where the air is less noxious.

She still has her phone on. She is holding it up. It gives out a faint light.

It buzzes.

This time he sees it.

A message from DANIEL.

Pale Flotsam Is Floating

Proust turns to face the crunching sound.

A faint light fans over the walls of ochre and limestone.

It grows.

A blinding flash bursts round the corner.

Waahah!

When Proust recovers his vision he sees a object he had not expected.

In the air floats a glowing glass bottle, with Daniel the spider inside.

.......

Albertine, several turns down the passage, in darkness, is making her way towards what she supposes is Arthur, although he sounds weird.

Is he mumbling some sort of incantation? She stops and listens.

.....and from then on I bathed in the poem of the cave, infused with glass spears bristling from tubular mouths spitting poison devouring the black verses like a pale piece of flotsam....

She likes it, as poetry. But he doesn't sound very well.

Arthur, says Albertine. Wait for me, will you.

But Arthur keeps going.

And going.

Albertine hears a splash.

All she can think is: Now he'll be a pale piece of flotsam.

.......

Proust notices, as it gets nearer, that the floating glass bottle containing Daniel the spider, has legs.

Not spider legs, but legs in coveralls, and sensible boots.

And the glass bottle has fingers wrapped around it.

In fact, it is no ethereal floating phenomenon, but is held aloft by Gaius, illuminated by the torch on his helmet.

Well met, says Gaius. Or in the modern vernacular, ' You're busted!

I'm a sensitive man, says Proust. I may never recover.

Come, come, says Gaius. Where are the others?

Further along, says Proust.

I see you've brought your mechanical arm, says Gaius. Don't try to hide it.

I wasn't, says Proust. I had hoped to surprise Albertine.

This may be the wrong place for it, says Gaius. In the pitch dark, and with an over abundance of bizarre animals and insects, it may not be received as you intended.

True, says Proust. The way you surprised me, just now.

Apologies, says Gaius. But I'm here for two reasons. No, three. One, Arthur. I realised he must still have the key, and I knew where he'd be. Two, my pencil is down here. Do you know how many questions I've invented to which the answer is cheese, and then lost them because I didn't have a pencil?

May I ask why you need a list of such questions? asks Proust.

For the spider, says Gaius. He has learned to say cheese.

Then I ask you again, as a logical person, says Proust, if he can say cheese why not ask him a question to which the answer is something different? Extend him.

It is easy to see you are no scientist, says Gaius. An experiment must be repeatable.

In this way they proceed down the narrow passageway to the central cavern and the bacterial lake in which ......

Albertine is checking her iphone for messages, and pale flotsam is floating.

Hot Sweet Milk And Hallucinations

Albertine can't see a thing.

But she can feel Arthur. His wet bloody knees, from which slivers of glass are protruding.

Watch out, says Arthur, (a bit late though).

Keep still, says Albertine. Now I know you said not to bring anything.

For a reason, says Arthur.

And what was the reason? asks Albertine. Might it be overridden by your glass cuts?

How delicately she puts it.

I wouldn't object if you soaked up the blood with something, says Arthur.

A scarf? says Albertine, pulling it out from her knickers.

It has taken exactly this long for Proust to burn his way down the rope, and now he has landed.

He hears Albertine's voice saying 'a scarf'. He hears the soft rasp of material, and a dabbing sound, followed by a loud yelp from Arthur.

Yeouch!

Sorry, says Albertine. I know you said no torches.....but it would be helpful if I could see.

She takes her iphone from her travelling skirt pocket. Turns it on. A pale light illumines the underground passage, and Arthur, and Arthur's cut knees.

She commences to draw the glass slivers from his cuts with her bare fingers.

Proust feels somewhat redundant.

But at least he can see.

He looks around at the underground passage, which is just as he had imagined when lying under his duvet, after drinking hot sweetened milk at bed time, before finally falling asleep.

Claustrophobic. Smelly. Ochre clay, limestone walls.

Dreadful. And his hands sting.

Rrrrip!

Now she is tearing the scarf in two pieces.

Rrrrip! And one piece down the middle.

Now she is tying a strip around each bleeding knee.

Proust wishes .....no....he doesn't.....that would mean he would be bleeding.....

Bzzz. Her phone is vibrating.

A message.

Quickly Albertine turns her phone off. Pitch dark floods the cavern.

Arthur stands up. At least it sounds like that's what he is doing.

Proust clutches Albertine's arm.

What? says Albertine.

Don't be afraid, says Proust. I'm right behind you.

Cool, says Albertine. Now, Arthur might think this is cheating, but we all saw the entrance. We turn left. You go first, Arthur.

He was going to. Arthur makes a sour face under cover of darkness.

He feels his way along the limestone wall until he touches something that writhes under his fingers. And bites one of his thumbs.

Arthur sucks it. He may be sucking out a hallucinogenic poison. He may be sorry.

Proust too has felt his way down the wall and touched something wriggly.

To take his mind off the horrible situation, he says loudly.

Don't be afraid, Albertine.

He feels for the mechanical arm, which he has concealed down the back of his trousers.

He plans to surprise Albertine.

But she has heard Arthur ranting incoherently ahead and is forging her way up the passage.

And now it's quiet.... but wait...

....is that a crunching sound somewhere behind him?

Where It Is And Where It Is Going

The starlight plays on the shadowy grasses.

Albertine slows, forcing Proust to draw level.

Did you bring anything? she whispers.

No, says Proust. Arthur said not to.

I know, says Albertine, but I suppose he's brought a key.

Is she being subversive?

Of course Arthur has brought a key.

How will they get into the Movile cave if he hasn't?

I did bring something, says Proust.

So did I, says Albertine. It's not a torch, but it could be. What did you bring?

If you begin trembling down there, and I'm behind you, you'll feel it, says Proust.

Crikey, says Albertine.

....

They are here. Arthur gets off his bike, and takes the key out of his pocket.

He opens the lid.

The three of them stare down into the black hole, from which faint methane gases are rising....

Ugh! coughs Proust. Reality is confronting.

Who's going first? says Arthur.

You are, says Albertine. Then me. Marcel needs to be behind me. He thinks I might tremble.

No one has to do this, says Arthur. I'll go by myself, if you don't want to.

He swings himself over the lip of the shaft, grabs onto the rope which is hanging there, and slides down it, rather faster than he meant to.

How many seconds does it take to slide down a rope twenty metres?

Not many.

How long does it take an expletive to rise that same distance?

Not long.

Merde! cries Arthur. There's broken glass down here. My knees are bleeding.

Gosh! says Albertine. And I bet you don't have any sticking plasters. Wait down there, Arthur. We're coming!

Broken glass, says Proust. That's totally unexpected. Poor Arthur.

Proust thinks quickly. These are his thoughts: The accident is fortuitous, because from it I shall emerge as the natural leader, however I must not let Albertine see that this gives me pleasure, indeed it doesn't, and I must act quickly.....

Meanwhile Albertine has acted even more quickly.

She has run over to Proust's (hired) bicycle and unwrapped the colourful scarf that was wrapped round the saddle to protect his bottom. Then raising her skirt ( yes, she is wearing a skirt, a sensible travelling one), and tucking the scarf in her knickers (Proust can't believe it!) has hoisted herself over the edge of the shaft and shimmied down the rope, disappearing into the black depths to play nurse to Arthur.

No time to assess the situation further. He must follow.

As he slides down the rope, he feels his flesh burning.

To take his mind off it, he thinks of the colourful scarf.

Where it is, and where it is going.

How Life Formed On Earth

The microbiologists have gone to bed.

Gaius, in his room, has left the door open.

He takes a notebook from his back pack, intending to write notes on the spider.

Then he remembers! Damnation! His pencil is submerged in the silt of the underground lake!

He lets the spider out of the bottle. It leaps from the bedside table onto the bed.

Poing!

Well done! says Gaius. You have perked up considerably. Is it the effect of the cheese?

He does not expect an answer, but the spider, after sitting at the table with everyone for several hours while they drank plum brandy and talked about what could be learned from the animals trapped for millions of years in the underground cave, (such as for example hints about how life formed on earth), has become a student of the language, and replies:

Cheese!

Or possibly: Jeez!

But Gaius suspects it is cheese.

How he itches to make notes on this phenomenon.

Arthur comes in.

We're just heading out for a while, says Arthur. What's up? You look like you look when you want to write notes and can't find a pencil.

That is exactly the situation I find myself in, says Gaius. I shall have to commit what just happened to memory.

What just happened? asks Arthur.

The spider is picking up language, says Gaius. I believe it said cheese.

Were you taking a photo? asks Arthur.

No! But that is a very good idea, says Gaius. A video would be even better. Thank you, Arthur. I can always rely on you to come up with a sensible suggestion.

No problem, says Arthur. And if we find your pencil....any pencil....I'll.....and if you don't see me again....it was.....

Whatever are you talking about? says Gaius. You have drunk too much plum brandy! Off you go now and have a good time with your friends. If I'm asleep when you get back, don't wake me.

When Arthur has gone, Gaius takes out his smartphone.

 He tries to think of a series of questions to which the answer can only be CHEESE.

Another example of when a pencil would be useful.

......

It's ten o'clock. A cool summer night. The track leading to the underground cave is faintly starlit.

Three bicycles pass along it.

Arthur in front, Albertine next with Proust close behind her.

Proust examines his feelings. On the one hand, he should be leading, because this whole adventure was his idea in the first place, on the other hand, it is the pleasantest thing in the world to be riding behind Albertine, from whom every now and then a scent of what is it?..... hawthorn?..... floats back and enters his nose, while on the other hand, Arthur....but there can be no third hand.....

...until Proust remembers that there is a third hand, because he has brought his mechanical arm, even though Arthur expressly forbade him to bring anything.

In a sense then, thinks Proust, I lead from behind.

All I Need Is A Spiracle

Proust informs Albertine that the spider is likely to die in fresh air.

I didn't realise, says Albertine. Awfully sorry. But how do spiders breathe anyway? Do they have lungs or what?

No one knows, not even the spider.

It's not something he thinks about, normally.

Gaius returns from his tour of the living quarters.

Hello all, says Gaius. How's my spider?

It's having difficulty breathing, says Albertine. I took the lid off.

Let me see, says Gaius. I know a little about spiders' breathing. Some have book lungs, which consist of flat plates called lamellae, and oxygen passing between the lamellae diffuses through the tissue and into the blood.....but, of course, oxygen will not serve this spider.

That much is evident. The spider is turning grey, whereas before, it was transparent.

Gaius pokes at the spider. No reaction.

Put the lid on, says Gaius. Some gas from the cave may still be in the bottle.

Albertine replaces the lid.

Now, let us observe him, says Gaius. He may be one of those spiders that have tracheae, or breathing tubes, held open by rings of chitin. The tubes open to the outside via a spiracle.

The spider can't hear what Gaius is saying too clearly, now the lid is back on the bottle.

Something about a spiracle.

Perhaps he must wait for a spiracle.

I came out to call Arthur and Marcel in to dinner, says Gaius. I assume the young lady has plans?

No I haven't, says Albertine.

Join us for dinner then, says Gaius. Are you Romanian?

French, says Albertine. I'm here on holiday. I met Marcel on the beach.

Clever fellow, says Gaius. A microbiologist and also a talented clown.

Clown? says Albertine, raising an eyebrow.

Ask him to show you his mechanical arm, says Gaius.

Come on, says Arthur. Let's get dinner.

......

Dinner is fish soup, followed by mamaliga, a type of polenta.

Then cheese and Tuica (plum brandy).

Cristian, Rich, Gaius, Arthur, Proust and Albertine are seated at a long table.

The bottle containing the spider sits in the middle.

He's dead, I think, says Cristian. That is a pity.

He may not be, says Rich. He just moved a leg.

Arthur picks up the bottle, takes the lid off and shakes out the spider.

The spider lies on the table, inert.

Interesting creatures, spiders, says Cristian. They appear to have no active muscular breathing mechanism.

HA! This is the first the spider has heard of it.

No active muscular breathing mechanism! Hallelujah! Who needs a spiracle!

He drags himself over a grain of polenta to a tiny scraping of cheese.

Sniffs. Woof! A pungent aroma!

See that, says Proust. It's crawled over a grain of polenta and it's eating the horrible cheese.

Manners, Marcel! says Albertine. It's a nice cheese. What kind is it?

Nâsal, says Cristian.

No one laughs. That's its name. It's not even funny.

They eat Nâsal and drink plum brandy, until half past nine.

A First Breath

The Jeep pulls up in front of the Field Centre.

Must you head back to Constanta tonight? asks Cristian.

Not necessarily, says Gaius.

Rich and I are staying for a few days, says Cristian. So you're welcome to stay overnight. We dine in the cafeteria, and sleep in the living quarters. In the morning we'll show you the underground labs.

Very kind, says Gaius. And Arthur?

He's also welcome, says Cristian. As is the spider.

Considering that he is holding the spider, Proust wonders whether to take great offence at the implied insult from a person who has no reason on earth to insult him, unless on the grounds that he is a dilettante microbiologist, who has learned his microbiology from Google while lying in bed, eating coddled eggs on toast, which is difficult, but how this person could know any such details of his private life and eating habits is beyond him...

And of course, says Rich, you too will be welcome.

He is looking directly at Proust as he says this.

Proust is mollified.

Cristian takes Gaius to look at the living quarters.

Rich goes off to deliver the flagellate samples to the underground lab.

Arthur and Proust sit down on a low stone wall, conveniently placed to catch the late afternoon sun.

Cristian didn't ask you for the key, says Proust.

Gaius didn't ask you for the spider, says Arthur.

They look at the spider, in the bottle.

He'll die in that bottle, says Proust.

Not if we let him out, says Arthur.

He'll die if we let him out, says Proust.

How come? says Arthur.

He's used to breathing methane and sulphurous fumes, says Proust. And that's what's in the bottle. If he ever comes out, the fresh air will kill him.

It might make him stronger, says Arthur.

The spider is of Arthur's opinion.

I don't want to die in the bottle. What a prospect. Turning up in the Canary Islands, the relatives waiting to greet me, Hello Daniel! Welcome Daniel!  (No, not Daniel!)....and there I am, can't even get out of the bottle....

He tries to catch Arthur's attention. Tap, tap, on the bottle.

But Arthur and Proust are looking at the road now. They have seen Albertine.

She is riding a bicycle.

Hi, says Albertine. I came early. I knew you'd be back. What's that, a spider?

Yes, says Proust, A spider. I'm calling him Daniel.

Wham! A double surprise!

First of all for the spider. (So I'm Daniel again! What's up with these people?)

Secondly, for Proust. Albertine has evinced no reaction.

Arthur decides to assist him.

Daniel, says Arthur. Isn't that the name of your boyfriend?

No way, says Albertine. What makes you think so?

Hearsay, says Arthur.

Albertine shakes her head.

Everything set for tonight? asks Albertine.

Yes, says Arthur. I've still got the key.

What about any other stuff? asks Albertine. Torches?

No torches, says Proust. We have OTHER SENSES.

This will impress her.

Okay, says Albertine. It's your call. Hey, take a look at your spider! He wants to come out.

She takes the bottle from Proust and twists the lid off.

Foul smelling air rushes out, and is replaced by fresh air from the Black Sea coast of Romania.

Daniel takes a first breath.

Vast Multitudes Of Canaries

They head back to the Mangalia Field Centre, in Cristian's Jeep.

Rich sits in the front beside Cristian.

Gaius is in the back, with Arthur and Proust

Proust is holding the bottle containing the spider.

The spider is almost transparent.

And doesn't look well.

This spider, says Gaius (largely for the benefit of the spider), is distantly related to spiders found in the Canary Islands.

The spider has heard this already, but it's nice to hear it repeated.

You don't say, says Proust. This engenders in me a great deal of respect for the spider, and I shall stop calling it Daniel.

Daniel. So that was its name. And now it isn't. The spider is confused at the quicksilver nature of language.

May I ask why you were calling it Daniel? asks Gaius.

I met a young woman, says Proust. On the beach. She is in love with someone or possibly two persons, who go by the name of Daniel.

Aha, says Gaius. I understand perfectly, but this can have nothing to do with the spider.

Arthur, says Cristian, Do you have the key?

Yes, says Arthur. In my pocket.

Remind me when we get back, says Cristian.

Sure, says Arthur.

Proust is still thinking about Daniel. Is he younger than me? More suntanned? Less introspective?

Gaius is thinking about the spider. Ridiculous to saddle it with the name of a rival. Look at it there in the bottle. Not that it's easy to see. But there is certainly an air of despondency in and around that bottle. Perhaps some talk of the Canary Islands would render the spider more cheerful.

The Canary Islands, says Gaius, were named by King Juba the Second, of Mauretania. Does anyone know why he might have chosen that name?

Everyone suspects a trick question, excluding the spider.

No one? says Gaius.

No one is willing to say.

Tell us, says Rich. I bet it's nothing to do with canaries.

Correct! says Gaius. The islands were so named because they contained vast multitudes of dogs, of a very large size.

This is good news to the spider, who would have been wary of meeting a vast multitude of canaries.

( By this we can see that the spider has hopes of visiting his long lost relations, and has no idea of distance).

Dogs, says Arthur. I get it. Canaria in Latin.

Well done, Arthur, says Gaius. Nowadays however it is thought that the so-called dogs were probably monk seals or sea dogs.

Fascinating stuff, says Rich.

Most intriguing, says Cristian. Gaius, you're a fountain of knowledge.

Proust has bucked up a little, at the mention of seadogs, which has set him off thinking of sailors.

And the spider is growing more cheerful by the minute.

We Have Other Senses

We can't stay down here too long, says Cristian.

That's right, says Rich. This methane and sulphide rich air's not too good for the kidneys.

I was hoping to have time for a dive, says Gaius. I believe there are several air bells.

There are, says Rich. But are you okay on your own? Cristian and I need to take some readings.

Gaius looks into the box of scientific equipment, which consists of various meters, and a notebook, with a pen attached to the spiral binder with string.

This reminds him of his lost pencil.

He is determined to dive to the bottom of the lake to recover his pencil, after which he will make his way towards the first air bell.

He sets down the bottle containing the spider and puts on his diving equipment.

He dives in.

Plucky fellow, says Cristian.

......

Arthur and Proust are driving back to the Movile cave in Cristian's Jeep.

Daniel, says Proust, gloomily.

What about him? says Arthur.

Do you think she's in love with him? asks Proust.

No, says Arthur. Anyway, she's coming tonight.

So we're actually doing this? says Proust. We won't see anything.

We have other senses, says Arthur.

Of course, we have other senses. Arthur is right.

........

Gaius has dived to the bottom of the murky black water. He can't see a thing.

He feels along the bottom.

A leech seen nowhere else in the world (and not here either) escapes from his searching fingers.

The leech lurches into a long wooden object. Ouch!

The object sinks further into the ancient silt, the sharp end pointing upwards.

Gaius feels his way along the lake floor till he touches a rock made of sandstone.

Now to feel for an entrance to the narrow passageway that leads to the air bell.

But he can't feel an opening.

Disappointed, he resurfaces.

Any luck? asks Cristian.

No, says Gaius. And I see you're packing up.

We are, says Cristian. Get out of that gear. Look, I've packed your spider.

His spider. Gaius is touched.

.....

Arthur is waiting at the top of the shaft when they get there.

Rich hands him the box, the bottles of flagellates, and the Canary Island spider.

Arthur passes the Canary Island spider to Proust.

Proust stares at the spider, which looks disappointed, because it can't see.

Hello Daniel, says Proust.

This name means nothing, to the spider.

Gaius emerges, then Cristian.

Okay Arthur, says Cristian. Lock up, would you.

Gaius watches Arthur lock the airtight lid with the key.

Why Am I In This Bottle?

It's Arthur.

Arthur gets out.

Proust is sitting on the sand, talking to a girl in a black polo cap.

Arthur! says Proust, spotting him. Over here!

Arthur comes over.

This is Albertine, says Proust. I was just telling her about our projected adventure, but she's sceptical.

I'm not sceptical, says Albertine. Now your friend Arthur is here.

Proust is not sure whether or not to believe her. Is she simply one of those people who must always be one step ahead?

For example the diatoms and dinoflagellates she claimed to have seen, which he had not expected.

But now she is talking to Arthur, who is showing her a key.

The Movile cave! says Albertine. Hardly anyone's been down there! It must be amazing.

We'll find out tonight, says Arthur.

Tonight! It's the first time Proust has heard of this time frame.

Whose adventure is it, anyway?

So you've taken the key, says Proust. Are they still down there? And is that Cristian's Jeep?

Yes, says Arthur. I thought I'd come back and show you that I had the key.

But, says Proust, you'll be giving it back to them.

I was going to say that I'd lost it, says Arthur.

Albertine can't believe what she's hearing.

Why don't you just get one cut?

Too much bother, says Arthur. So, who's coming?

I am, says Albertine. But tonight, not this afternoon. There's something I have to do first.

Okay, says Arthur. Meet here at nine thirty. Bring a bike.

Yep! See you, says Albertine. She walks away, without looking back.

Proust is jealous.

Not of Arthur. Well yes, somewhat of Arthur, who has just breezed up and made a date with Albertine. But of the SOMETHING THAT ALBERTINE HAS TO DO FIRST. What is it?

He remembers what she was saying when she stumbled over his diving equipment.

Something about someone called Daniel.

.......

In the Jeep:

Proust: The OTHER Daniel, she said. There were two of them!

Arthur: What are you talking about?

Proust: Albertine is unfaithful.

Arthur: You should get used to it.

........

In the underground Movile cavern:

Gaius has captured the spider that dropped, and placed it in a bottle.

Yes, says Rich. That's definitely one of those related to a species found in the Canaries.

Miraculous! says Gaius. The Canary Islands are 4000 kilometres west of here. And this cave has been isolated for millions of years. How did the animals get here?

(In the bottle, the spider is asking himself the same question. What? I have relatives in the Canaries? And I live down HERE?)

One theory, says Cristian, is that five million years ago the Mediterranean dried out, forcing the animals to seek refuge in the sulphurous underworld.

(Oh right! thinks the spider).

Think about it, says Cristian. Constant warmth, no predators or competitors, rich source of food. But it's difficult to prove. They could simply have fallen in and become trapped when the limestone cast dropped, sealing the cave. Different animals may have arrived at different times. The snails have only been here for 2 million years, for example. Of course, they're trapped for good now....

(Really? thinks the spider. Then why am I in this bottle?)

Look For What's Different

Rich lowers himself into the shaft, and descends quickly.

Cristian is waiting at the bottom.

What's going on here? asks Cristian.

How should I know? says Rich. You're lucky the box didn't fall on you.

Exactly, says Cristian. But it fell on the package of bottles.

What are they doing here? asks Rich.

I left them, says Cristian. So I had to come back.

Are they broken? asks Rich.

Not all of them, says Cristian. Shine your light down here, will you.

What a mess. Broken glass at the bottom of the shaft.

And whose fault is it?

Probably the less said the better.

Where's Gaius? asks Rich, picking up slivers of broken bottle.

Left him in the lake cavern, says Cristian.

Errm, says Rich. Was that wise?

I told him not to move, says Cristian. But you're right. We should get going.

They leave the broken glass in a pile. They stuff their coverall pockets with the unbroken bottles, and proceed down the narrow passage to where Gaius is sitting.

No, not sitting.

He is stretched out flat on his stomach, his head protruding over the inky black bacterial infested water.

Ah, there you are, men, says Gaius. Perhaps you could help me. I have dropped my pencil.

In the water? says Cristian.

Yes, says Gaius. It happened as I was getting it out of my trouser pocket.

This won't do, says Cristian. The cave authorities are very strict about contamination.

Never mind, says Rich. We just won't tell them.

But I do need a pencil, says Gaius.

No, you don't says Rich. We need you to help us collect samples of flagellates. Here, have a bottle.

Gaius immediately forgets about the loss of his pencil. Flagellates! A bottle!

He lies down again on his stomach, and starts filling his bottle.

It's full. He holds it up to the light from his helmet.

A spider lowers itself down from the cave ceiling, and onto his head. Fwoof! It bounces up again.

See that? says Rich. A spider. You know what? I reckon it's one of those spiders that's related to the ones found in the Canary Islands. See if you can catch it.

Foolishly, the spider lowers itself once again.

.........

Arthur is bored at the top of the shaft in the middle of nowhere.

He fiddles with the key to the airtight trap door.

Perhaps he should try it.

He closes the lid, and locks it. It locks easily.

And unlocks again, easily.

Sweet.

He drops the key back in his pocket.

Lies in the grass, looking up at the sky.

How long will they stay down there?

He gets up again. Wanders over to the Jeep.

Cristian has left the keys in it.

Arthur wonders if he'd have time to drive back to the beach, to see what Proust is doing.

......

Proust is on the beach, sitting.

Albertine shakes drops of Black Sea from her body.

Some of the drops land on him.

They soak into the cotton of his shirt and his trousers.

He says: What did you see out there?

She says: Diatoms, dinoflagellates. Or so I believe. I do have sharp eyes.

He was not expecting that.

Not sea horses, blue fish, turbot, mussels and shipwrecks? he counters.

It's too easy to see those, she replies. That's why I look for what's different. Here, have your gear back.

Thank you, says Proust. But don't go yet.

He intends to tell her some interesting facts about himself: he is a microbiologist, he is a trained clown, he has recently eaten half a Camel Ball, which she may or may not know is bubblegum, and that now it is probably wrapped around his ........ no, maybe not that one.

A Jeep pulls up on the esplanade behind them.

The Time Space Continuum

Deep underground, beside the toxic lake, with only the light from his helmet, Gaius is waiting.

He hears muffled noises from the far end of the pitch black passage.

Then silence.

Not even dripping.

He hates being idle. He knows there are bizarre tiny creatures all around him. He just can't get the hang of directing the light from his helmet to the places where he thinks they might be.

If he directs the light onto the stone beside him, his eyes are looking at his elbow.

If he directs it upwards to illuminate the cave ceiling, he starts falling backwards, and must put his hand behind him, onto who knows what bacterial matter.

Which he does not like to do, in case he should disturb it.

An idea hits him. Jumping Jupiter! Why not take off the helmet!

That's better.

He swings the light over the surface of the black glinting water. Yes, there is a floating mat of something ...looks like froth...

On the floating mat of autotrophs he identifies a waterscorpion ( Nepa sp.).

He reaches into the pocket of his coveralls, for a pencil. Has he brought one? Yes, but it's in the pocket of his chinos, underneath.

Never mind, he will get it out in a minute. What's this on the rock beside him? A centipede with extra long antennae (Criptos anomalans), but no eyes.

Two tiny woodlice (Armadillium) lacking skin pigment, scuttle through the light beam from his hand held helmet, and disappear into a corner.

Gaius undoes the buttons on his coverall, determined now to get hold of his pencil.

At the other end of the passageway, below the shaft, things are less peaceful, and less scientific.

Rich has dropped the box from twenty metres. It falls as Cristian, who has come back for the bottles, is approaching.

A serious matter on the time space continuum.

It could go either way.

That is, the box could fall on Cristian.

Or it could miss him.

........

Proust meanwhile is sitting on the beach, gazing at the Black Sea, which now contains the lively Albertine.

She has borrowed his diving equipment.

He watches her undulating and splashing in the water. Sometimes he sees her glossy head, sometimes her glossy bottom. She reminds him of a baby seal that he has not seen but read about in bed when he was feeling poorly.

She will come out eventually. He is in no hurry.

He imagines her discovering various wonders. Mussels, sea horses, blue fish, Black Sea turbot and the common stingray. A well-preserved World War Two shipwreck.

When she emerges, dripping, she will tell him what perhaps he knows already.

The Hospitable Sea

Thwoop! Argh!

It was not the sound of something breaking.

It was the sound of a parcel landing on someone's helmet.

Oof! says Rich, catching the parcel. That was a close one. Wouldn't want these bottles to get broken.

No, says Cristian. We wouldn't. But what's he doing up there? Can you see him?

Gaius looks up the twenty metre shaft at the bright circle of daylight, framing Arthur.

Give him a shout, says Cristian. We need the other box.

Arthur! shouts Gaius. Send the other box down!

They wait. Nothing happens.

Damn, says Rich. I'll have to go back up.

Annoying, says Cristian. We only have two hours to play with.

You and Gaius go ahead then, says Rich. I'll catch up.

He shimmies up the rope, the light on his helmet flitting across the walls around him, like an angry moth.

Gaius and Cristian make their way along the narrow passage until it opens out into a central cavern.

This is where the lake is, says Cristian. Watch your feet now.

Gaius directs the light from his helmet into the murky water, searching for a frothy bacterial mat.

Cristian taps him on the shoulder.

Mind if I leave you here a minute? I seem to have left the bottles back at the entrance.

Just the sort of thing I might do, says Gaius. Off you go then.

Don't fall in the water, says Cristian.

Gaius nods. His helmet light flashes round the cave.

The movement is disorientating. He decides to sit down.

......

Rich has already reached the surface, and located the box.

Arthur is sitting on it.

Could I trouble you to stand up, says Rich, and help me with that box.

Okay, says Arthur. You should have called up. I would have lowered it for you.

We did, says Rich. But you didn't hear us.

Arthur stands up, and Rich carries the box to the shaft entrance.

.......

Proust is on the beach, gazing at the Black Sea.

He wonders what Arthur is doing.

Probably sitting on a box at the top of a shaft, waiting for instructions. Perhaps he sucking a Camel Ball, if he has any left.

Proust hears the sound of feet crunching on the sand behind him.

A girl walks by, in a black polo cap.

She is talking loudly, on her iphone.

No! Not that Daniel! The other one!

She isn't looking where she is going. Oops! She trips on Proust's diving equipment.

Shit! says the girl. Sorry.

That's quite all right, says Proust. No harm done. But you ought to look where you're going.

You look like....that guy....that writer....says the girl.

Marcel Proust, says Proust.

Albertine, says the girl. Are you going diving?

Yes, shortly, says Proust. At the moment I'm just thinking about the Black Sea.

It's ninety percent anoxic, says Albertine. But who cares? And anyway, it's great for preserving shipwrecks. Did you know it was called the Hospitable Sea by the Graeco-Romans?

No I didn't says Proust. Why do you think that was?

Oh, I know why that was, says Albertine. It was euphemistic. It was actually the opposite, because it was hard to navigate, and because savage tribes lived all around it.

Proust by now is half in love with Albertine. Of course if she were a boy, it would be better.

........

And now something not very good is about to happen.

Not on the beach, but inland, at the top of the shaft leading down to the cave.

Rich, to save time, has dropped the box down the shaft.

An even worse thing is about to happen at the bottom.

Proust On The Shore

Gaius, Arthur and Proust now have diving equipment.

Arthur, says Gaius, I realise you're keen to go diving in the Black Sea.

I suppose so, says Arthur

I look forward to it, says Proust. I have long....

But, says Gaius, (cutting in before Proust can elaborate), if I can prevail upon our hosts to allow it, I should like you with me, at the cave.

Sorry, says Cristian. Only three at a time allowed down it.

I know, says Gaius. I should simply like Arthur to be at the top of the ladder. He's my right hand man after all.

We have everything, says Rich. Helmets, torches, coveralls, footwear, little bottles.

Proust wonders what the little bottles are for.

He doesn't like to ask in case it shows him up as a person who doesn't know what microbiologists might use little bottles for, after all it may turn out to be unrelated to microbiology, one might for example pee into a little bottle in order not to contaminate the water ( here Proust congratulates himself on this thought which seems to him to be of the utmost scientific importance) however it reminds him that he still hasn't passed that cursed bubblegum that Arthur inveigled him into eating......

He needs to go swimming, in the Black Sea, not go with Arthur to wait at the top of a ladder for who knows how long.

The Black Sea is basically just across the road. He can see it.

He makes a decision.

You go, Arthur, says Proust. I'll pass.

Okay, says Arthur, understanding.

So Arthur heads off to the Movile cave entrance with Gaius and the two microbiologists, in Cristian's Jeep, while Proust makes his way across the road, with his diving equipment.

Proust is now on the beach, gazing at the Black Sea, laid out before him. It sparkles, (let us imagine).

He knows the Black Sea, from his night time reading.

It is an inland sea which connects to the Mediterranean, through the Bosphorus Strait via the Sea of Marmara.

Marmara.

This reminds Proust of his mother. How proud she would be. Or would she be worried? Damn it all, mother would never have allowed him to eat bubblegum, that is assuming she even knew what it was.....

It may be a while before Proust ventures into the water, so let's follow the Jeep.

The Jeep passes through two gates, and stops at an airtight lid on the ground in the middle of nowhere.

Here we are, says Cristian. Now, have I remembered the key?

I hope so, says Rich. We don't want to have to go all the way back again.

Got it! says Cristian.

I suppose you keep the cave locked to prevent unauthorised access, says Gaius.

Yes, says Rich. And outside influences, such as gas exchange, temperature fluctuations, and species contamination.

Very wise, says Gaius.

Lucky you're here, Arthur, says Rich. You can make yourself useful. Pass some stuff down.

And hang onto this key, says Cristian. I don't want to lose it down there.

Sure, says Arthur.

Too easy.

He slips the key into his pocket.

Cristian goes down the rope first, followed by Gaius, then Rich.

Arthur peers down. He sees three helmet lights bobbing, hears a faint voice calling:

Pass ...(something)... down!

What something?

Arthur picks up a package of tiny plastic wrapped bottles, and drops it down the shaft.

Thwoooop! Arghhh!

Hey. It's not Arthur's fault if something is broken.

Two Degrees Of Separation

Let us linger down there in the cave with the foamy bacteria, the autotrophs and the methanotrophs.

Do they mingle?

Naturally, it is hard to avoid one another in a closed eco system....

but perhaps they have said all they need to say, long ago.

Do they long for news? There is only one way of telling.

Autos and methanos, here's some news for you:

You have not altered in millions of years.

Autotrophs: Call that news?

Us: In a long-term manner of speaking. You are found in almost all soils and on skin surfaces.

Methanotrophs: What about us?

Us: You are everywhere. In the Roman Baths at Bath, on the surface of sea water, in the mouths of cattle, and probably the human mouth and gut.

Methanotrophs: That does sound more interesting.

Autotrophs: Than what? Soil and skin surfaces?

Methanotrophs: Jealous?

Us: No need to be. You have both done exceedingly well. And here is some current news. You are soon to be visited by Pliny the Elder.

Methanotrophs: Woo! Roll out the red carpet.

Us: You haven't heard of him?

Autotrophs: No.

Well, at least now they know he is coming.

Gaius (aka Pliny the Elder) is in the diving centre, with Cristian Lascu and Rich Bodan, choosing a breathing apparatus, when Luminita comes in.

Luminita: All right if I bring Proust through?

Cristian: Not really.

Gaius: Is Arthur with him?

Luminita: Yes. They both want to go Black Sea diving.

Rich: No harm in that, is there?

Cristian: Oh, okay.

Arthur and Proust enter the diving centre, and start looking at diving equipment.

Looking to hire something? asks the diving centre manager.

It's on the house, says Rich. These guys are friends of Gaius. This one's a poet, and this one's a writer.

Ever dived before? asks the diving centre manager.

Yes, says Arthur. Once I was mistaken for Jacques Cousteau.

The diving centre manager finds this hard to believe, and says so. Isn't Jacques Cousteau at least a hundred years old?

Proust can't believe it either.

Gaius comes over.

It is true, says Gaius. We were on Kangaroo Island, studying geological formations, when Arthur was mistaken for Jacques Cousteau. Later, when the mistake was realised, I myself was mistaken for the very same person.

This is not quite how it happened, but Gaius has established Arthur's credentials.

Proust has never been diving, nor has he been mistaken for a diver, but he is of the opinion that if one reads up enough on a subject, one gains a degree of expertise at least superior to those who have not read up on that subject.

Unfortunately or otherwise, the subject that Proust has read up on is not diving, but mistaken identity.

So he finds himself at two degrees of separation....

Everything In The Universe Is Connected

Gaius is being shown around the Field Centre by Serban and Dumitru.

I must take notes, thinks Gaius.

Surely he has packed a pencil.

Dumitru and Serban are telling him about the forty five species so far identified in the cave.

Snails, shrimps, water scorpions, spiders, says Dumitru.

Flies?  asks Gaius.

No flies, says Serban. But the spiders spin webs. Tiny springtails get caught in them.

And leeches prey on earthworms, says Dumitru.

Earthworms! says Gaius. What variety! Does either of you have a pencil?

The worse the air gets, the more animals there are, says Serban, looking for a pencil.

Fascinating, says Gaius. How do they survive?

It is uncertain, says Dumitru. There seems to be no source of food. No water drips down from the surface, due to a thick layer of clay. The water must come from below.

Pencil, says Serban.

Thank you, says Gaius. Any paper?

Serban suppresses a smirk. Of course there is paper.

This water, says Gaius. Is it coming up through sandstone?

Yes, says Dumitru. Spongy sandstone. The water has been there for thousands of years, but tests show there are no food particles in it. The food comes from the frothy foam on top of the water which looks like wet tissue paper.....

Paper! says Serban.

Thank you, says Gaius.

He writes Frothy Foam on the paper

This frothy foam.......says Gaius.

He is about to ask another intelligent question.

But here we will leave him for a moment.

Outside in the sunshine, Arthur and Proust are enjoying their first taste of Ursa.

After several sips, their enjoyment goes sour.

Perhaps it's the sweetness. Perhaps it's the absence of alcohol.

They both stop drinking.

You like it? asks Luminita.

It reminds me of my childhood, says Proust.

Don't get him started, says Arthur.

No, no, I should love to hear of your childhood, says Luminita. Was it in France?

Yes, says Proust. At that time I used to go to bed early.......

Arthur needs to act fast.

He sucks up another mouthful of Ursa, in a manner that leaves him with a frothy foam moustache.

Proust is watching.

Proust notices Arthur's frothy foam moustache.

Under the layer of tiny bubbles can be seen (only just!) a fine tracery of bubble gum. Does the boy never ....? It's insupportable.....

Proust remembers the donuts, which Arthur ate on the Wizz Air flight, and the confectioners' sugar. Why, he wouldn't be surprised if there were still grains of that on his chin....

He reaches into his pocket, for his aloe vera tissues.

One can only try. No doubt Arthur will reject him.

But here we will leave them for a moment...

Why? Where are we going?

Down into the Movile Cave. We have already gone down the rope ladder. We have negotiated the passageways. We have come to the lake and it smells, although we can't smell it.

On top of the lake lies a foamy froth composed of autotrophic and methanotrophic bacteria.

It looks like a mat of wet tissue, lying on finely drawn out strings of bubble gum.

With, here and there, the odd grain of confectioners' sugar, glinting.

Only teasing.

There's no light to see by.

But we have answered Gaius's question.

And Proust has stopped talking.

Existing On Nothing

Proust emerges from the Field Centre into the sunlight.

Where is everyone?

He spots Arthur, talking to Luminita.

Doctor Proust! Feeling better? asks Luminita.

Proust is not. Nothing has come out yet. But he can't tell her.

Fine, fine, says Proust, raising his eyebrows at Arthur, to signify the opposite.

Gaius is on a tour of the building, says Arthur.

Shall we join him? asks Luminita.

No, says Proust. I'll wait here. You go, with Arthur.

No, says Luminita. Arthur doesn't want a tour of the building. We'll stay with you.

Another Camel Ball? asks Arthur.

No thanks, says Proust.

They sit on a seat in the sunshine.

So what am I missing? asks Proust.

Luminita explains:

They'll be looking at our two underground labs, where the cave's physico-chemical conditions are reproduced, the laboratory where we do water chemistry work, the living quarters, for up to six persons, and the conference room, with thirty five seats, and then they'll take him over to the diving centre, to pick up some scuba diving equipment.

Arthur blows a leisurely Camel Ball bubble. It pops on his face.

Proust takes an aloe vera impregnated tissue out of his pocket and offers it to Arthur.

Arthur declines it, and starts picking off the bubblegum with his fingers.

Your colleague is lucky, says Luminita. But of course, he is a very famous person. He will be diving the cave with Cristian and Rich. Not many have done it.

Arthur feels sorry for Proust. It was his idea to come on this expedition. And Gaius gets to go down.

Luminita goes inside, promising to come back with drinks.

You want to go down? says Arthur.

Yes and no, says Proust. On the one hand I have a stomach condition, and don't wish to go anywhere until the bubblegum I swallowed comes out which so far it hasn't, and for that reason I need to see Gaius again and obtain something stronger, but on the other hand one only gets an opportunity like this once in a lifetime, or one WOULD do, were one not in the unfortunate position of being with a more famous identity.

I'll go down with you, says Arthur. Once Gaius has done it, you and I'll go together.

You mean unofficially? says Proust. Without safe guards?

Sure, says Arthur. That's the best way.

Proust leans back against the sun-warmed white wall of the Field Centre.

He imagines a future in which: having successfully expelled the bubblegum, thanks to something stronger (walnut leaf, he has heard that might work?), he and Arthur descend unobserved to the underground cavern, dive into the foetid waters and observe all around bizarrely formed sightless inhabitants existing on nothing.... oh, the wonder of that.....how could it be?

Luminita returns with three glasses of Ursa.

Fruit flavoured non-alcoholic beer.

Oh, the wonder of that.....how could it be?

Mysteries Yet Uncovered

Camel Balls? says Gaius.

Try one, says Arthur.

Gaius takes a Camel Ball from the packet, and sniffs it.

That looks disgusting, says Proust, refusing to take one.

Arthur breaks one in half.

The rough brown outside splits open to reveal a hard white filling with a red blob in the centre.

Arthur pops one half in his mouth.

Mmm, says Arthur, teasingly.

Gaius pops his in, and sucks it.

Proust is half convinced now. What harm can a half do? And Arthur looks like a young man tasting paradise.

Gaius's jaw moves up and down.

All right, says Proust. I shall try my first Camel Ball.

He takes the other half from Arthur, and swallows it, rather too quickly.

Ulp! says Proust. Not bad though.

Have you swallowed it? asks Arthur.

Yes, says Proust. I find that is the best way with something unpleasant, a technique my mother taught me, which I have always.....

He stops talking.

Arthur is blowing a bubble.

The truth dawns.

Dear me, says Gaius. You should have told us it was bubble gum, Arthur. Thank the gods I have not swallowed mine.

But I have, moans Proust.

Only a half one, says Arthur.

It will wind itself round my appendix! cries Proust. I shan't be able to shit it out. Ever.

Calm down, Marcel, says Gaius. I have a purge in my back pack.

On this promise, they get back on their bikes, and proceed down the road to the Mangalia Field Centre.

.........

The Field Centre, a tall white building.

Several Custodians are waiting outside to greet them.

Welcome, says Dumitru. We have only just learned you were coming.

That is very kind of you, says Gaius. Is there a toilet?

All mod cons, says Serban. Do you need the toilet?

My colleague Proust will, shortly, says Gaius.

Welcome Dr Proust, says Luminita. Come in with me. I shall show you the toilet. I'll get Radu to bring your luggage and that lovely scarf you have wrapped around your saddle....

No, leave that where it is, says Proust.

As he is led inside by Luminita, he thinks of his father, a real doctor, a professor of hygiene, a masterful, powerful man, keen on physical exercise, and he finds that he likes being addressed in the same manner as his father, 'Doctor Proust', yes, it does have a nice ring to it...

Here are the rest rooms, says Luminita. Please take your time.

Meanwhile back outside, Gaius is introducing himself.

Gaius Plinius Secundus, says Gaius. You may have read some of my works.

Of course they have. The Custodians are delighted.

They're certain they've all at various times read his works on this, that or the other.

They try to remember what exactly.....

The Entelognathus, says Gaius helpfully. The Microbrachius dicki, then there was my short article on Goose Barnacles, and more recently.... help me out, Arthur....

The Pobblebonk, says Arthur. And the Baw Baw.

Well, it's an honour, says Serban. Perhaps we can give you a tour of the Movile cave, if you're up to going down it?

Of course I'm up to going down it, says Gaius. I was hoping to dive the underground lake and explore its narrow passageways, and perhaps lend my expertise to shedding some light on mysteries still to be uncovered...

Certainly, says Serban. You can go down with Cristian Lascu. He was the first to discover it. And Rich Bodan, the 29th person.

What about Arthur, and our inconvenienced colleague? asks Gaius.

Only three at a time, sorry, says Serban.

Those are the rules.

Camel Balls

The Jeep roars past the three cyclists, and catches up with the scooter.

They stop.

Rich! says Cristian. Why are you riding a scooter?

I was led to believe you were cycling, says Rich.

As if! says Cristian Lascu. Not with all this equipment! Still it was nice of you. Did you think I was one of those three back there?

Yes, says Rich Boden. I stopped for a chat with them. They're three microbiologists, heading to the Custodians meeting.

One had a scarf tied round his saddle, says Cristian.

He was a weird one, says Rich. Claimed to be a clown. And got the name wrong.

The name wrong? asks Cristian Lascu.

Of the Movile cave, says Rich. He called it Morvine.

Was he French perhaps? asks Cristian Lascu.

Yes, he had a French accent, says Rich. Perhaps that explains it. Called himself ....Proost.

Proost? says Cristian. Did he have intense eyes and a kiss curl?

Come to think of it, yes, says Rich. Why?

Then it was PROUST! says Cristian. What the hell's he doing here?

Cristian is suspicious.

......

Back down the road, Proust has stopped for a breather.

Gaius and Arthur stop too.

I admire your quick thinking, says Proust.

I am not renowned for it, says Gaius. Generally I...

Not you, says Proust. Arthur. He got us out of a very sticky situation.

Ah. Did he indeed? says Gaius. What sticky situation? Did I miss something?

You may have, says Proust. I believe you were the victim of a diversionary tactic.

Jumping Jupiter! says Gaius. What was it?

Grass, says Proust.

Marcel, says Gaius, I know I have admonished you in the past for prolixity, but grass is hardly an explanation....

You were looking at the grass, says Arthur. And you missed it.

I knew it! says Gaius. I was looking at the wrong grass. There was nothing unusual about it.

Exactly, says Proust. Meanwhile Arthur convinced Professor Boden that we are here on legitimate business. There is to be a Custodians meeting, to which we are expected.

Tch! Lies and diversionary tactics, says Gaius. Not my usual modus operandi.

Best to keep all options open, says Proust. By the way, is there any thing to snack on?

Not that I know of, says Gaius. Unless you eat grass.

Arthur thinks this would be a good time to produce a snack out of his pocket.

He reaches in and feels around in the general detritus.

What has he got in there?

Something he picked up at the station.

It rustles.

He draws out a packet of Camel Balls.

The Way The Wind Blows

Varooom!

Rich passes Gaius and Arthur, and stops in front of Proust, raising a dust cloud.

Cough! Ahem! Good morning, coughs Proust, glad of a reason for stopping.

Good morning, says Rich. On your way to Mangalia?

I am, says Proust. How far is it?

Not far, says Rich. And your companions?

We all are, says Proust. We seek the Morvine cave, but perhaps I ought not to mention it. Marcel Proust, by the way, clown and microbiologist.

Rich Boden, says Rich Boden. Microbiologist.

What a coincidence, says Proust.

Gaius and Arthur have dismounted and sensibly waited for the dust to settle.

Good morning! says Gaius. Fine day!

It is, says Rich Boden. The grass is bending in a good way this morning.

Everyone looks at the grass.

He's right. It is bending towards Mangalia, where they are going.

I see what you mean, says Gaius.

I assume you're all going to the Custodians meeting, says Rich.

The Custodians meeting....? says Proust.

Yes, we are, says Arthur.

Gaius isn't listening. He is bending down, examining the grass.

Yes, the Group for Underwater and Speleological Exploration, and the Local Council of Mangalia, says Rich. Should be a good meeting. See you there then!

He gets on his scooter.

The wind blows his hair forward, and into his eyes.

(By this we can see that the wind is indeed blowing towards Mangalia).

Before puttering off down the road, Rich has one more question:

By the way, I don't suppose you've seen another group of three riders?

No, says Proust. We would have noticed another group of three riders.

Hmmm, says Rich. recommencing his puttering.

Off he goes, his hair blowing back from his face now.

Nice chap!  says Gaius. Very observant.

Behind them, Arthur hears something purring.

The sound of a Jeep

Questions Like These

Proust has a crude map which he has obtained from a website.

It seems that, what you do is, travel south from Constanta, to Mangalia, on the Black Sea coast, near the Bulgarian border.

South, says Gaius. That would be....hmmm..... now, where is the sun?

That way, says Arthur, pointing upwards.

Proust thinks Arthur is amusing. He laughs, in spite of his injuries.

The fact that he is laughing in spite of his injuries reminds him of the extent of his injuries and the attendant inconvenience of these injuries, (his ankle, the two holes in is sock, the puncture holes in his fingers, from his time as a clown). Not to mention the fact that he has his luggage to deal with.
Why has he not brought a backpack, like Gaius?

You lead, Marcel, says Gaius. You have the map.

Proust examines the map again, in detail. It doesn't take long. (There is no detail).

A thought strikes him.

What if we simply follow the coast?

They set off from Constanta in a southerly direction, following the coast, passing fields and small villages.

Proust is in front, with Arthur and Gaius behind him.

Gaius fixes his eye on the scarf  wrapped around Proust's bicycle saddle.

Gaius: He seems of a sensitive nature. I begin to wonder if he's suited for this expedition

Arthur: He's having trouble with his suitcase.

Gaius: So he is. Look at him, quite unsteady. I wonder what's in it?

Arthur: A mechanical arm. Boxes of tissues.

Gaius: Indeed? They may come in useful. I suspect we may have to gain illegal access.

Arthur: If we can find the entrance.

Gaius: Yes, his map isn't what I expected.

Arthur: At least it's a map.

Gaius: And this is the road. It seems quiet.

It does, but Arthur thinks he can hear something buzzing far away, behind them.

It is Rich Boden who has hired a scooter in Constanta, and is heading for the Mangalia Field Centre.

He is hoping to catch up with his colleague, Cristian Lascu.

As he putters, he thinks idly of the unidentified pseudoscorpion, and how good it would be to identify it.

He then turns his attention to the grass at the side of the road.

Each blade is bending in a similar direction, dictated by the breeze.

Until he passes, momentarily, and after which it bends backwards. What is it aware of?

He likes thinking of questions like these.

But now, in the distance, he sees two riders, no.....make that three riders.

One is bound to be Cristian.

He increases the speed of his scooter.

Varooooom!

Blood Is Coming

The mangy dog edges closer to Proust on the footpath.

Gaius can't find a stone.

Luckily Arthur is behind him.

Watch this, says Arthur, pretending to pick up a missile.

The mangy dog watches Arthur with one eye and Proust with the other.

Proust, having noticed that Arthur's hand is empty, panics, and kicks out in the mangy dog's general direction.

The mangy dog snaps at Proust's ankle.

Ach! Two holes in his sock! And that may not be the end of it. Sometimes you feel blood is coming even though you can't see it.

Proust collapses on the pavement, one eye on his ankle.

The mangy dog runs away.

Bravo, Arthur, says Gaius. You fooled it.

Too late, says Proust. I shall probably get rabies.

Nonsense, says Gaius. Let's see. Two holes in your sock. And no skin broken.

Proust examines the skin through the holes in his sock. It looks pink.

He wishes he could show it to his mother. She would tenderly take off his sock. She would give the sock to Françoise to be washed and mended. She would then make him a salve, and apply it to his foot with her own fingers before wrapping it in a lovely fresh smelling white towel......

But what's Arthur saying?

.......three bikes for as long as we need them.

Gaius is handing Arthur some money, and Arthur is walking away.

Proust feels faint.

Arthur is coming back again, with two bicycles.

Leaving them with Gaius, he goes back for a third one.

A colourful scarf has been tied round the saddle of the third bicycle.

Proust cheers up at the thought that Arthur has attempted to obey his instruction.

He hopes the scarf is made of a natural fibre, and not polyester.

Imagine the sparks from the friction!

He stands up, and walks to his bicycle, carefully avoiding a pot hole.

.......

Two hours later, a real microbiologist gets off a train and walks into the station.

He approaches the information counter.

Can I leave a message here for someone?

Sure, says Gabi. Hey! I remember you. You're that professor.

Yep. Professor Rich Boden. That's who I am.

I just saw your colleague, says Gabi. He's hired three bikes and gone up there already.

That's news to me, says Rich. Well then, I won't leave him a message.

Are you diving the cave again? asks Gabi.

Not this time, says Rich. Just checking out a few things on the surface. Okay, I'd better catch up to him. Err...... did you say three BIKES?

Yes, says Gabi. He had two companions, but I didn't see them.

Hmm, says Rich. Something smells fishy.

Wild Dogs And Pot Holes

Trains run between Bucharest and Constanta five times daily.

So it is easy to catch one.

Proust, Gaius and Arthur are on the train, speeding towards the beautiful town of Constanta.

Of course, says Proust, at this time of year Constanta will be overrun with tourists.

That need not concern us, says Gaius. Our task will be to locate the Morvine Cave, then gain access.

Yes, says Proust, you are right. We need not waste time in Constanta.

Have you been to Constanta before? asks Arthur.

No, says Proust, but I have spent a great deal of time at home in my apartment, after dinner, under a blanket, with no external distractions, reading about Constanta, knowing I was to come here.

What's it like? asks Arthur.

It was founded by the Greeks as a colony, almost two thousand six hundred years ago, says Proust. At that time it was called Tomis.

Tomis! says Gaius. Well I never! I believe know something of Tomis.

No doubt it has changed since it was known as Tomis, says Proust.

One might hope so, says Gaius. There were deep holes everywhere, and wild dogs. I know this from the works of Ovid. He was exiled in Tomis.

Well, says Proust. There are still feral dogs there. And holes in the footpath, which one must watch out for.

And Proust laughs, a little too loudly, in order to show that while it is amusing, he does not wish to disguise the fact that he is annoyed Gaius has stolen his thunder, by knowing about Ovid.

The train arrives in Constanta.

Arthur, says Gaius. Make yourself useful and find out where this cave is, and where to hire bicycles.

I know where the cave is, says Proust. But bicycles would be useful. Pay attention to the saddle on mine.

Arthur nods sagely. If he was bothering to record anything Proust has said so far, it might be this revealing instruction.

He finds the information desk inside the station.

Can I help you? asks Gabi.

I need three bicycles, says Arthur.

You can hire them for free over there, says Gabi. All you need is ID or a passport. Two hours free, with an option to extend for another two hours.

Thanks, says Arthur. And what's there to do here?

What do you like doing? asks Gabi. There's a statue of Ovid, if you like looking at statues......

I know about Ovid. He was exiled here, says Arthur. He didn't enjoy it.

Terrible holes in the footpaths, says Gabi. And feral dogs everywhere. Just like today.

What do I do if I meet one? asks Arthur.

( He knows perfectly well. But he likes talking to Gabi).

Pretend you're picking up a rock, says Gabi.

Just pretend? says Arthur.

We encourage it, says Gabi. It's how we got all the holes in the footpath, people picking up rocks. The dogs don't know the difference.

Okay, says Arthur. And what else is there to do here?

You could visit Mamaia resort, just north east of Constanta, says Gabi. It's very popular. It has pure white sand, the only pure white sand in Europe.

I might not have time, says Arthur. I'm going cave diving.

Awesome! Where? asks Gabi. The Morvine? Are you with... that guy who...the one who....?

Umm...yes, says Arthur.

Good luck then, says Gabi. I heard they tested the water for chemicals from the fallout at Chernobyl. Can't remember if they found any. So, best keep your mouth closed.

Thanks, says Arthur, heading off to organise the bike rentals.

He rejoins Proust and Gaius on the footpath, where a minor disaster is unfolding.

A mangy dog is baring its fangs at Proust, and snarling.

Gaius is searching the footpath for a genuine stone.

He is unable to find one.