Molly Field's Original 67

By Molly Field

Molly Field's Original 67. That's a name: these are all the first stories I have written that I decided would make a good book; they comprise of a series of american stories - in its feel at least; and designed to make the reader dream; mostly fantastical, always wonderful - and always interesting, these are wonderful stories put together with great care reflecting maybe a spirit that isn't seen quite often enough. Which are highlighted in these stories. 

 

The American Spirit. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Molly Field
• Release date: Mar 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224669707

Molly Field

Molly Field is an author that doesn't wish to be known too much except through her writing. But what can be said is that she started in her twenties writing; mostly on napkins and bits of anything and, although not a career at first grew and grew as time went by. Gained momentum in it. Selected what fit and didn't fit. In a collection of stories that would - although different. Would portray her personality and what she means in life. 

Book preview

A Penington Rendezvous

One of the things. That they did; that was spot on, was the implementation of a restaurant, up there; so people could enjoy themselves.

They brought in a chef, from Panama.

A waitress from San Diego.

And another waiter, from East Asia

The man that would assemble, everything, that would take charge, the man they put up there; to bring this project, into reality, was a man called Stevie.

Stevie was the one in charge, and as manager, chief entertainer; part owner; they would succeed in turning this, cold, metallic. Lifeless; machine into a breathing, entity, that would thrive under his management.

So. They had only a few tables, up there.

And. Everything was going great.

Everything was going great; they all had wine. They laughed together. The meals were good.

Right up, until desert, where one of them had the bright idea to order something that wasn’t on the menu.

I’m sorry but you’ll have to stick to what’s on the menu.

He wanted, a Penington fruit cake.

We don’t have that up here, he said

I want a Penington fruit cake, he insisted.

Then go to Penington, you old fool.

Anyway. It went on for a while; until he asked to see the manager.

Naturally Stevie, said, I am the manager; what’s the problem.

The problem is...

"Wait let me talk to the manager.

Aha. Aha.

Yes.

He says you can have your fruit cake but you’ll have to swim to Penington, from the ocean."

That was a clever response. But what Stevie didn’t anticipate is the man would call his bluff and agree to this.

Where is my lifejacket?

It’s in the pod, are you sure you want to do this? It’s cold out there

I don’t care anymore, just get me to the pod.

"Alright.

Hilda!

Hilda.

This man..."

What?

He wants to go to Penington for a Penington sandwich.

A Penington fruit cake.

"That.

He insists to have one even though it’s not on the menu. "

We can surely manage a Penington fruitcake, how’s it made.

It’s made with cherries. And onions.

Okay, send him there.

"That’s right, you’ll be the first to test our untested pod back to earth.

Let’s hope those parachutes get up early, this time."

Wait.

The man was absolutely, horrified.

Not only was he horrified, but Stevie kept pushing him, from the back, so to put him in a hurry.

"Off you go.

We mustn’t let your date with Penington stay only a fantasy."

Wait! Are you sure I can do this.

"Well. I’m not in your head. And neither are you.

So who knows."

One of the couples, that was there. Apparently, had heard the whole thing, and insisted she knew how to make the Penington fruit cake.

Penington, might sound like a fancy place. Upper class, place.

But it wasn’t.

There was this place, down on earth; where they did, the now infamous Penington fruit cake. And it was good.

So good, apparently; that some people were willing to die for it.

Like Mr. Indiana jones here. Who.

Not only was willing to travel there, but risk his life; from space. To maybe. Possibly. Reach the Penington projects.

To each his own. But that, would be something the restaurant cannot take ownership of, in case of accident or serious injuries.

So they made him sign a paper, that said, in case something happens blablabla, the restaurant will not be held responsable. For what will surely transpire.

"There. Sign there.

Done.

You can go out; and kill yourself. It’s all on you," said Stevie.

But before you do. Have a taste of this croissant de la nuit.

Which roughly translates, as, croissant de la noche, in Spanish.

It took only three bites; and three seconds of waiting; before he was face first, in the ground.

They had stuffed it with mushrooms, you see

Now, all of this was good, but you had a dead body in your hands; not dead. But lifeless to the touch.

No problem for this establishment; but, it was still awkward to have to carry a man out of the dining room whilst everybody was eating.

And nobody still knew how to make this damn fruit cake of his; they’d figured that as soon as he was brought back to life, so to speak; he’d head, over, to a pod; and throw himself down in the atmosphere.

So for the next few minutes; and hours, really. The fight was on, on who could figure out what a Penington fruit cake was made of.

How hard could it be? After all.

Everybody had done it.

What, you say?

Well the Penington experience.

How popular must the Penington fruit cake be as to have people from Jupiter here tonight know about it.

Penington fruit cakes travel faster than the speed of light, and let itself known to even the most remote, town. Furthest. Away from this Galaxy and solar system.

The Penington fruit cake was so popular, that asteroids were mistaken for it.

Oh, here another one!

Oh no. False alarm.

Another Penington fruit cake that got probably tossed by the way side. We’ll have it brought in.

So you might think. How on earth; is this establishment unaware of its composition.

Well it’s not that easy to catch them.

Once they sniff you out they’re like cats trying to avoid being petted.

So no problem. We’ll just figure it out.

Let’s; first. Look at what’s in this kitchen; and the idea, was, that whatever was in there would constitute as the ingredients for a Penington fruit cake. And we’ll call it de la maison.

That way nobody can say anything.

That was the mindset of Stevie.

The establishment’s manager.

So. Whatever was in there would get in the Penington fruit cake – Marmalada; enchilada – you name it.

It was going to be de la maison alright.

We might want to call it de la maison, extraterestriala.

"Ok; so who’s got the mustard?

Onions and cherries – I almost forgot.

Right. Stuff it in there.

Right.

That looks good.

Now for some Penington. "

It turns out Penington was also the name of a fruit called Penington, which grew in and around the Penington projects, back there on earth.

"We can’t have a Penington fruit cake without Penington.

That would be like having salami without these little white dots.

We can’t have it."

Okay, said Stevie. We’ll just have to call it Penington, de la maison.

And so much so; that the maison, is all that’s left.

In other words

maison.

So this wasn’t working, we were having Penington fruit cakes without Penington, and the violinist we asked to come didn’t show up; I mean, this was a disaster.

An absolute disaster.

Hilda took over, as best she could, but people were starting to notice; that Chopin knew more than three notes.

This is not Chopin. Said one.

It is. And I’ll prove it to you, said Hilda.

And she started with the same three notes.

Play a different tune, said Stevie.

How, she asked.

I don’t know. Hit them with a banjo – think of something.

So the last thing the restaurant needed was somebody waking up sober.

And that’s exactly what happened.

Astronaut man woke up from his slumber, and they had to inject another dose of not so lethal cow tranquilizer, for him to wait patiently, until the not so Penington, fruit cake, arrived.

Now you might think all of this is a fiasco; and, one, could argue that.

But not everyone was flustered.

The couple from Jupiter hadn’t had a bad word to say since the grand opening; and they weren’t exactly favored by the long distance travel, to come over here.

In other words. If you can make people from Jupiter happy. You’re probably not doing everything so badly.

So how much more time does this damn fruit cake need in the oven.

Well it turns out much more. Even without the Penington as the main ingredient.

That Penington-less fruit cake needed much more time.

In fact the process, had to be started all over again, more than once.

Several times, actually; until. One of us, got it right.

But of course I don’t need to remind you that, ultimately; it was without the main ingredient Penington, so how much of a success that was is down to the standard you expect, from a restaurant, up in space.

Come to think of it. More thought was put into the technicalities behind maintaining, such a construction into space. Than the quality of the restaurant, where people would be spending a good amount of time.

They didn’t put a lot of thought on the cherry on top.

Still. Just a cherry. But.

Details make tryers into winners.

And losers into winners.

A construction of that type, has to have, a chef; a waitress; a – manager. That matches the quality of the rest of it; it’s common sense.

And now. They’re about to kill astronaut man; for wanting something, that the establishment hasn’t promised, but should deliver, because it should be in the menu.

As simple as that.

So. Finally.

The effect of cow’s tranquilizer; waned.

He got up.

"So. If you think I’ve given up on throwing myself into one of these pods you’re mad.

I’ll have this Penington fruit cake, even if I have to kill somebody to get it.

Simple."

This is the first time Jupiter got up their hand to say something.

Not now, Jupiter. Said Stevie.

You really want to kill yourself.

No not me. You.

"Fine.

Get on with it."

Hilda said. No Mr. Stevie.

"Don’t worry, this coward wouldn’t do anything.

What is he going to do? Hit me with this loaf of bread."

Well that was what happened.

So at this point, Jupiter got up – with all its kids. And acted as a sort of barrier between the knocked down person, which in this case, was of course – Stevie.

And Mike Tyson. Who layed the punch.

None of them were worth defending.

One was a petty, entitled, child. And the other. Well; the other, was simply, himself.

There was one thing that Stevie had got right; and it was that in the absence of any Penington in the menu; one should not expect to get one; however much one wants it.

There was that. And, the fact that Mike Tyson could perfectly risk his life if he wants to it’s perfectly in his own right and the establishment had the paper work for him to do so, if he wants to risk his life in the atmosphere and then in the Penington desert, because yes, there was such a thing: the Penington Sahara, they called it.

Like the name suggests, it was a place full of ocean.

But in all seriousness; no one. Had gotten out.

Of the desert of Penington – no one had even got to the Penington gates, from the desert of Penington. And even then, it would be an arduous task to go across the Penington landscape, which was filled with snakes, leopards; venomous creatures and the like; how would he get over all these obstacles?

It only took a few minutes for Stevie to get up and shout.

"Go on! Kill yourself! I don’t give a damn.

Just give us a note please when you get there, that says. I made it; and without significant injuries, we want to know it’s possible for our next guests who desire Penington. Not to send them to their death unnecessarily."

Alright I will.

So he went, over, there – in one of these tiny pods that you can imagine. And of course, Jupiter; and its kids were not going to stop him, they’d had Penington almost in excess, in their home planet.

But they did, wave, at him.

It wasn’t an easy goodbye, you didn’t know if he would make it.

The other couples, that were there, waved goodbye, and soon enough he was in the planet’s atmosphere, going through all the fases.

"Okay. So. Jupiter; here, Mars; here; Pluto – stay where you are.

There. That was about right."

That’s what he said – Stevie – to the guests. Or clients; if you want.

The ones that didn’t punch him in the mouth with a loaf of bread, and escaped in a pod back to earth. The so-called aliens weren’t that crazy about Penington, even while being close to its actual origin, I mean the Penington projects were legendary in the universe.

But. Somehow; some people get their fair share of Penington even without having been its creator.

That thought kept eating at Stevie.

Why was Penington - while it was made, on earth, was evenly distributed throughout the universe, and perhaps, probably, on the rise; on other parts of the world, and by world I mean, the whole universe.

You’d have to travel soon, elsewhere, in order to get what you’ve made.

There was something wrong with us.

Planet earth wasn’t going to be the monopoly that it was in Penington fruit cakes. Or better said; it would stay a monopoly in its capacity to produce the Penington fruit cake, but strangely enough, not be able to keep hold of the Penington, inside its Penington walls. It would float, up there; into space – and wonder to other places; like Jupiter. Or Mars even is getting some.

Okay; that’s a bit too deep. Let’s toss that by the way side, and get. The other guests here into the next room, where. Desert would be touching their palate.

"Come on! Everyone is here?

Jupiter.

Stop wondering around over there.

Okay. Hilda!!"

What is it?

Our guests want la carte des desserts; maintenant.

You can speak in English you know it wouldn’t...

Sorry, can’t here you. Suzette!

"My name is not Suzette but I’ll bring the carte des croissants.

Oh, I mean the carte des desserts."

"C’est très bien, comme, ça; Susette.

Allez Allez."

And he starts laughing, embarrassing for him; even more for Mars, which wasn’t even served anything, they totally forgot to give anything after Jupiter; or before Jupiter, whichever way you wish to look at it.

So only Jupiter ate anything, and quite frankly had a great time with the omelette au fromage, or the eggs with a piece of cheese on top.

Simple. But good.

And after the fiasco of before; it was a welcome surprise for them.

Given what was used to, what they were used to when it came to intergalactic or space restaurants, this one wasn’t even the worst.

No one died.

First of.

And no one got ill.

So, this just tells you the standard of restaurants inside metallic structures, what people were used to.

Not much of a standard if you ask me.

So anyway, people got into the next room, where, it was a sort of a breakfast looking room; with breakfast looking napkins, and breakfast looking colors – if that makes sense. With the Word breakfast written all over the place; with the plates in the shape of breakfast. The floor – just a huge breakfast, where you had to drag your feet through sands of cornflakes; and milk, dropping from lizard sculptors; swooshing through the inanimate matter; and giving it a substantio, that otherwise would be impossible with only the corn.

And he says:

"Just where you’d eat your dessert if you had to.

Hilda!!

Hilda!" He screams.

Where is the...Ah, there it is.

Now the funny part of this, is that because they had used all the ingredients for the Penington fruit cake; you had only one menu, with only one dessert.

That’s right you guessed it: Penington fruit cake.

Which was appropriate this time because this, actually qualified as a suitable meal for the breakfast room reinvented as the dessert lounge.

So the orders were already taken because there was only one thing to choose from. Although, they did mix it up by taking away two three ingredients, and making another thing, and called it Penington with much less fruit cake.

And another one with, potato, instead of cherry; and so on.

Just to make it look as if they were drastically different meals.

But Stevie. In all his glory. Suggested that they’d get more out of their stay here if they chose the Penington fruit cake; the original one.

So he did tell the truth; just presented it, in a way that it didn’t seem cheap. He told them.

You don’t want to leave from this flying space ship without having at least a bit of Penington the original inside your mouth. Or do you? He said.

In all nervousness they all shook their heads and agreed, even though they all had eaten Penington before, for the reasons mentioned before.

The only one who hadn’t tasted the original, original, Penington. Was Stevie, himself.

From the waiter; to the cook. The chef. The Jupiters. The Marsians, of this world.

All had tasted the famous Penington, but common.

Fruit cake.

There might be a chance Action Man has died, and not tasted Penington.

That would make it two.

But that’s too much of a gamble.

He should be now about to traverse the Penington gates if he managed to stay alive and even that doesn’t guarantee he’ll make it.

But let’s just say for arguments sake, that would be probably the only man apart from Stevie who has yet to taste the real thing.

And one man is willing to die for it.

While the other is serving Penington imitations or de la maison in a breakfast looking room.

Who got the better deal, I don’t know.

Alien Out Of This World 

What I’m an alien just because I read the newspaper? 

Not because you read the newspaper, but because you don’t go outside. 

How am I going to go outside when half the world is burning? 

Since we moved out into space and got on that space colony expedition; we got to choose this planet as our new home and everything got on smoothly from there. 

Until the alien lifeforms present here. 

Got a sense of us and figured. These people aren’t from here.  

Well the earth’s flag was painted funny. 

And you could forgive them for not knowing what the earth’s flag looked like. 

But what you can’t forgive them is think they’re from here and we’re not and not bother to get to know us.  

Wonderful reception. 

But after two days. When we started firing at them. 

Then all of a sudden – bang.  

We got a stone wall. 

None of us could have predicted what was about to happen.  

They built bridges that only they could pass. And made it extremely hostile on a day to day basis. Me and my family we were on the original expedition, but had to go back to finish my children’s studies.  

And later when they got their PhDs in engineering, we came back here; and made it our home.  

CasaMaria; is where we lived.  

Not too far from there we had identified a cave, that was of interest to us because as the legend had it it led underground into a monastery, that once traversed led to another kingdom. 

We were supposed to embark on the expedition as soon as I finished my oatmeal. 

Alright. There. 

I’d take some more on the way back.  

I had Bryan next to me.  

We were communicating mostly on a day to day basis through web transmissions that my children had figured out. 

"So Bryan. 

Where you are? 

Ready for that expedition?" 

We were concerned mostly of indigenous people shooting at us; and under down there it was said that a bunch of trials awaited us.  

Great. 

I was pure.  

And so was Bryan. 

I knew definitely Bryan from the time we got to know each other back in the school of voyagers of the unknown; which was a specialization.  

I started in building rockets. 

He. On the other hand. Did no such thing. 

He got a head start because he worked as a mechanic on the latest conquerors of deep space. Which was a rocket. 

And as a funny story I was working there also and we got to meet.  

And by an outrageous turn of fortune he got to learn a few inside information and got the specialization that I had. 

Through learning. 

A very deeper learning curve as compared to the rest of us who went through a more theoretical approach. Not nearly enough practice in the academy – compared to what Bryan had, and it made us think: if only we had started as a mechanic for CODS. By now we’d have the equal amount of practice and know how as someone like Bryan would have, it took all of my money. But. What’s done is done; and we filled each others gaps in knowledge, but mostly Bryan helped me. And his big hands. Through severe working. 

They had turned into the finest instruments that many opted to cut their fingers and get a bio solution; where the arm worked in tandem with pieces of metal they put in there.  

And the mind. 

They had figured. 

Could do as much as it wanted and there were no interruptions since biomechanical arms could do things that humans on their own could only hope for.  

So that was Bryan.  

Wonderful partnership that he built over time with Sarah; and they ended up together. And since we spent so much time together; CODS; emphasized relationships and understand what the other was saying in difficult situations where communication was difficult. 

Taking that all into account. 

As well as our credentials.  

The head of CODS – educator and founder Bernard Paskins. Decided. 

You two. And three. 

Off to the stars – and take your children and families with you. 

Now I said "this is a huge honor. Of course. 

But." 

But what? 

But nothing, I was remembering I had shakers Adam’s apple I can’t go into space. 

Shakers what? 

It was a condition – in fact the conquerors of deep space had well documented this and even included it in their guidelines and codex book Bernard Paskin’s guidelines for deep space, he should know. It was his name on the book.  

I know nothing of it. 

You sure? 

My Adam’s apple was bulging right in front of him and he still couldn’t get the hint. Maybe if I grabbed it? 

What if I showed it to him? 

Where’s my marker? 

There. 

That way it’s visible.  

But another chapter in the book said that an Adam’s apple injury only had valid access to a desertion if the subject suffered with severe brain disease dementia morbosa.  

Or any dementia. And since I had none of those, and he could tune into my senses with his psychic abilities he knew.  

That as much as I wanted it to be true; none of my impairments had effect on me to enough capacity as to impede me into going into space.  

"Right.  

I’ll get that cleaned." 

What? 

Nothing.  

We were the original crew of seven. But got chopped off to a comfortable three – comprising of me; Sarah; and Bryan.  

Bryan Hellfield would add the whole of his family which was a number of eight. But he couldn’t take that many number, so he had to choose between leaving his grandmother and his father and sister, and that ended up just with him. 

I had Sarah, which was my sister. My sister had me. And Bryan had her.  

By process of elimination he had deduced that none of his family members either wanted; or were interested in him leaving into space and he didn’t want to deal with that. 

So that got where it got.  

Fast forward into the future, we land safely and a whole bunch of people showed up after us, and my two sons, which got into another space program. Got on into the rocket they built, and blasted off into space.  

Made a stop in few other places before joining their father, but now the whole family is reunited and I had to still deal with Bryan.  

So fast forward even further into the future – we had discovered this cave – because originally we weren’t space invaders, we were scientists; just that, in times of exploration; at times exploration resembled invasion for the people that didn’t invite you. 

Nothing farther from our minds. At least the crew, didn’t feel that way.  

But as attention grew and you get the big dollars, everything changes. You get attention; of the wrong kind. 

So what started as a peaceful adventure, became brutal. That was not fault of me and Bryan. 

Certainly not Sarah. 

Her contacts with government operatives had nothing in this case. They would’ve known it. 

Even blind. 

Death-mute even. 

This news that we had found something. It traveled through light-years of space; and might’ve done a detour somewhere else.  

The government agencies had little interest however in an old cave, so me and Bryan were fairly comfortable in this.  

They had little hand in this, if anything our presence made things easier for them; they had an excuse. And could pretend and intervene as an archeological endeavor. 

Those planes flying over our heads had no consequences onto us. 

As long as they let the experts do what the experts did; and most of the battlefield was further up north of the planet. What we needed to do is get a means of transportation to get to Ijraab. Which was further down. 

And as I have it, from the locals. Beautiful scenery. Truly wonderful. 

Great people down there as well. Only if they loved aliens would they love us. Luckily we were as close to aliens as they would get, because the caves. They lead to somewhere. 

And the legend had it that aliens resided down there. 

What the locals didn’t expect is that some other non-locals would show up. We would give them a hand. 

And an expedition awaited us in the dessert. Because the entrance wasn’t far away. We needed transportation, first by levitator device, and then further along with an old animal, they call here, the Saak.  

The Saak. 

Old transportation.  

We hadn’t those, back in the old planet; since about a number of centuries ago. Surplus to requirements. Nobody needed them. Except maybe in the countryside; and even then.  

Most technology had replaced individual transportation nobody knew how to drive. Let alone a Saak, which was wild. Turbulence into its head could go out make it go into a rampage. The locals warned us.  

Back there our alienship didn’t bother them. 

If anything it was welcomed. Tall blue guys who saw us as aliens. 

I think they liked it that as ugly as they were we were ten times as ugly, not to the delight of Sarah. 

I’m not talking about you Sarah. I’m talking about Bryan.  

The Saak I was on was fairly tranquil and Bryan and Sarah shared one. But. However tranquil they would be none of us got to ride it alone, always a tall local had its grip onto us and managed it.  

Which one is you Bryan? 

Whatever do you mean? 

"I mean. 

You got your arms all around of my sister I want to know if you identify as yourself. I’m joking." But figured.  

We’re looking over here for aliens. 

We’re the aliens.  

The tall blue people got their eyeballs looking as if they had found the deep mysteries of Saak. 

We were riding them funny. 

That’s as alien as they ever saw.  

You have to understand over here nobody couldn’t ride over with a Saak, so to see a bunch of people fairly ugly and shorter than them. And you get none of them capable of gaining mastery over the third generation species. 

If you were them. You’d deduce that those people were aliens.  

Aliens here; aliens over there. This is just another day as an engineer. 

I’m a mechanic. 

Same thing you’re a loser. That’s why we’re here; isn’t that right Sarah? 

Same as Bryan. 

No respect for their elders. We took care of this expedition like pros, and on my monitor it indicated that magnetic emanations were getting sparser.  

An indication here.  

Magnetic readings should get to a standstill as we traverse this cliff, we’ll take it from here I said.  

Wonderful.  

This is just what we needed a bit of exercise with our legs, the cave wasn’t hidden it was right in front of us; we just had to walk a bit.  

Now the telescope saw an entrance that was the size of a rat entrance; that’s kind of small. An inordinate amount of time passing through it would have to be taken into account, I looked at it and I wasn’t so sure.  

But none of us was oversized.  

And all gentlemen.  

Sarah would go first as she’s got the best chance of making it through; I have the least chance so if I get stuck in there you could push me from in front of me.  

Is that right. 

That was right.  

I wanted Sarah and Bryan to make it above all else. They had the best chance.  

Very amazing that they didn’t object. 

Even with my Adam’s Apple.  

It was acting up, and somebody pushed me into the crevasse, we had made it. Nobody died. Or got trapped out into the entrance and my amygdala, or Adam’s apple got better and smoother for every second that we occupied into this cave.  

Look at this I said.  

The natives must've hid it with great care: no blue person could get through here.  

This is absolutely amazing, but the flashlight we were using didn’t light the entire space in front of us and we were kind of afraid to move a little further. So Sarah runs. 

I say, wait, but as soon as I utter anything Bryan runs right passed me.  

Unbelievable these kids.  

But out of concern of being left behind I gave in to juvenile behavior and they saw me arrive.  

Bryan. Don’t ever do that. I was gasping for air and my throat felt weird.  

This was a marvelous piece of bravery but if the locals hadn’t dared do something like that it was pretty obvious we shouldn’t do too. 

Sarah suggested for a minute; that the local blue skinned people were afraid of the dark. I turned around to her partner and turned round back to her, and again back to Bryan; only to give it to Sarah in disbelief that she even would suggest that.  

A minute ago we were riding creatures we had never seen before and the suggestion was, that locals who had the dexterity and ability to ride and tame such dangerous creatures couldn't handle a bit of dark. 

People were different she said. Saying that I was afraid of a small hole.  

Which was ridiculous because people getting trapped into small holes killed more people than the dark. Bryan got impatient. He was supposed to not lean in too far into impulsivity and at all times; holding hands was paramount. So we get deeper into the cave, and start walking. 

We meet with a pointy wall – and on closer inspection it stopped being like this the further you went either on the right side of it, or the left side of it. Somebody had manipulated it.  

And you came up with another.  

Sarah spread her hands; and kept repeating that sharp surfaces alternated with more even surfaces.  

What about pressing? I suggested.   

Bryan was finding something. 

Find anything Bryan? Now keep in mind that we weren’t in broad daylight. This was done like if somebody had wanted it to happen. 

We were searching and got lost for a bit because we couldn’t find each other; our enthusiasm got the better of us – and soon after that I lost sight of Bryan.  

I wasn’t worried. But the dark in this place meant I needed to hurry to find him back. Bryan! 

Bryan! 

Sarah! 

my voice changed.  

Not an angry tone, just a hasty tone.  

I went back to Bryan. 

Bryan! 

A hastier tone moved my amygdala. 

Didn’t bother even checking my Adam’s apple must be touching parts of the floor.  

And, through tapping; and trying. Finally I got an inkling of a second entrance which I could find thanks to a dim flashlight. 

So you did make it work.  

We knew kilometers awaited us –at least that’s what they said.  

And the locals warned us that if we ever got this far it would be a miracle we’d got further. 

I recall the exact tone with which it was told to me that.  

Didn’t bother me a lick.  

If anything it got the team pumped up and we did those kilometers and even invented a song - a happy song, involving fairies and penguins. 

What amazed me was this place’s infrastructure; the further we went the more it resembled something.  

At this point we were going deep. 

The maze was turning into a straight passage. And lights. 

Once a somewhat of a luxury, guided us; and all we had to do is find the will to continue.  

Which we had plenty. This portal must be it.  

Sarah asked me how I knew it was a portal.  

What else could it be? If you read the inscriptions on the wall, it had the word portal in just about every language unimaginable on this planet. And look. 

Even in our own language.  

Those circles; and that man over here, was what happened when you went through the portal, we had to go in there.  

Be careful.  

Portals had a funny habit of distorting after a few centuries. We could end up in Pasadena California.  

Go ahead first. 

Thanks Bryan.    

This was a straightforward. In case you landed somewhere it would definitely have to be somewhere else than this cave. We couldn’t retrace our steps.  

"For the show. Bryan. 

Get in there." 

He asked why? 

You’ll get recognized first by the aliens, you’ll be the hero. Whenever