When he glanced at Donna Mona he saw that she had transformed herself again. Her coat had returned to its original glittering and gilded look. The flagella were golden and arranged in a way he had not seen before. They formed a high collar around her head and were curled like lace around her face and body. He was starting to wonder whether she was a Pseudomonad at all. She led him through a door and down yet another hallway made of thin red EPS threads.
The circle opened to let him into the center, while Donna Mona stayed outside. The Ancients did not speak and still he felt understood. The circle hummed and the sweetest music he had ever heard filled the room, his body, his mind. He felt a strange energy when The Ancients encased him in a bubble made of their own ultra thin flagella. His membrane seemed to dissolve. He felt stripped of his coat, his fears, his memories. He floated in the here and now.
Then suddenly he was alone under the Dome, only Donna Mona by his side. Before he could say anything Donna Mona grabbed him with her strong flagella and they were expelled from the hall with a gust of air. A dove picked them up and headed towards Saint Mark’s square.
The code is back where it belongs.
Where did it come from?
It was stolen from The Ancients.
And how Ancient are you?
How rude of you to ask a lady. It is time to part.
It was an honor meeting you. I wish we could share more adventures.
Who knows. We live in interesting times.
Lord Baci hopped off the dove and let himself float down to Saint Mark’s Square. With a small band-aid on his tummy, he relaxed on a Café table while watching the crowds at macro- and microscopic level. There was whispering and suppressed laughter behind him. In a salad bowl on the table close by a couple of Salmonellae, famous for causing diarrhea, were getting ready to have fun. The giggling from the mayonnaise subsided as the human couple slowly grazed on their greens. Juvenile amateurs, thought Lord Baci. Silly pranksters.