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.