Time Traveller. Part 3. The Mill. The Caches. Encounters.

The police officer did not let go his grasp from the young man’s arm. The man who they assumed was from the security company was on his side.

- What are you doing here?

- The same as all these people. Being curious about what has happened.

- I know you. I have seen you before, I’m sure.

The man wearing glasses pretended he was just a tourist and dismissed the security man’s affirmation.

- It’s not possible. I’m not from here. I’m just spending the day at the beach. Was the mill broken into?

- Don’t try to be funny, young man.

- I’m not trying, officer. In a small village like this, even a robbery is a big event, you know.

- I thought you said you were not from the region.

- It’s easy to guess, isn’t it?

- I’ll take care of him.

The security guard grabbed the young man’s arm with a grip that felt as strong as a powerful claw.

- Hey, let go of me. I did nothing.

He spoke out loud and that made the people in the area turn their heads to their direction. He then looked around and saw his two friends coming closer, ready to take action and help. He shook his head, discouragingly. They understood the message and stayed away, observing from a safe distance, together with the other locals, who started circling around them.

The evidently bigger and stronger man tried to pull the young man away, under protest, attracting even more attention to them than before. The small crowd soon completely surrounded the three characters who were in that increasingly heated argument.

The burgled mill itself had been forgotten for a minute or two.

That was an opportunity to be taken advantage, before anyone would notice it, so the pale man slipped into the building and climbed the steps to the upper floor. A few minutes later he came back downstairs, almost unnoticed and left through the unattended open door.

***

- That was an insane but very brave move.

- I have to agree. I could not leave that chance untaken. It would not be fair, after all this trouble.

- True!

- Come on. We need to help him now.

- Did you get anything from up there, after all?

The pale skinned man smiled demurely.

- We will talk about it later. Let’s help our friend. I have a good and convincing argument. If they want to take one, they will have to take all of us. Let’s make the crowd come into this with us and bring them to our side.

- You’re absolutely crazy, my friend, but that’s a great idea!

Amidst the whole turmoil, they did not allow the police and security guard to take the young man wearing glasses away with them and he was soon released. Those two men were not happy, however.

The three friends got off as immediately as they could. They had a couple of things they would need to work out straight away.

***

The Jeep turned around the roundabout and took the right exit. They were back on the A28, heading south.

- They would not be there for no reason.

- That’s what I thought.

- That incident just confirmed my suspicions.

- There’s one piece still missing in this story…

- Yes. The man in the hooded tracksuit…

- What he wants, we kind of know already… What we need to realize is who he is and what he knows…

- And if he is a friend or a foe…

- One thing is true: we are one step ahead… still… but we need to go and visit that lighthouse again down in the city… And it must be done immediately!

The two friends stared at the pale skinned man, who was holding the phoney ‘geocache’ he took from the mill in his bare hand.

***

- Shame! What could have happened here? I can’t find it anymore. Where is it?

- What? What do you mean you can’t find it anymore?

- I think I know what could have happened. I wonder if…

- Do you think he got here before we did?

- Yes, I do.

- And what do we do now?

- I don’t know, but if he hadn’t realized it, yet, he will soon find out that we hold the other piece of this puzzle and maybe he will come to the sensible conclusion that we will need to work together, otherwise somebody else might…

- Are you serious? He is not a friend, as far as we could find out.

- We don’t know it yet…

- Then what is he? Who is he?

- Think with me: if he ran away from the police and those guys, he is not an enemy at all…

- Well, he broke into the mill, didn’t he? That’s not an innocent move. He knew exactly what he was doing.

- We’ve got to find that man and get some answers to all these questions.

- But how? How can we ever come to find him in this city? We have no clue as of to where he is and how to contact him…

- We need to find a way. I wonder if there’s a way to communicate… He might not be far from us… from here… from this whole thing…

- You are correct!

The three men turned around at the same time. A man with a dark hooded tracksuit was standing at the door of the lighthouse. His face was in the shade.

- That ‘cache’ is no longer there, as you have already noticed, for sure. I was waiting for you!

- What?

- It’s not going to be effective fighting against each other. It doesn’t make any sense. We’ve got to work together and quick. These people are dangerous and they want the same as we do, but with a different intention. And they are getting closer and closer…

- And who the f… I mean, who the hell are you?

The man uncovered his head. The three friends were in awe.

- How can this be possible?

***

Viajante do Tempo. Parte 2. Oblívio.

Os três ficaram em silêncio por um momento. Não havia muito mais a dizer. O rapaz de óculos apoiava a cabeça nas duas mãos, balançando-a levemente e tentando processar o que acabara de ouvir.

- Como isso é possível? Por que diabos eles fizeram uma coisa dessas? Gostaria de saber se uma viagem tão complicada, para o futuro, e com um propósito tão específico, ajudou alguém, afinal, em algum lugar, em algum tempo...

- Acho que nunca saberemos.

- Bem, então como saberemos se eu realmente cheguei lá e atingi o objetivo?

- Tu nunca terias voltado para cá, se não tivesses. A falta de memória não te parece ser prova suficiente?

- Então…?

- Pelo que eu sei, o “Oblívio” era raramente usado em quem fizesse viagens no tempo. Era somente eficiente quando eles queriam enviar os viajantes de volta para quando e de onde eles vieram, mantendo segredo sobre algum ponto, normalmente sua localização, ou para evitar serem revisitados. Tu viajaste para ajudá-los e toda a humanidade no futuro. Essas não devem ser as razões pelas quais o usaram. Eu me pergunto qual teria sido a verdadeira intenção...

Aquela, porém, não era a única preocupação na mente do homem de pele pálida. Havia algo mais que parecia estar fora de lugar. Ele tinha a forte impressão que algumas partes naquela história toda não se encaixavam bem, de alguma forma, mas não quis expressar suas apreensões em voz alta, ainda. Ainda havia algumas dúvidas, mas uma ideia estava se formando em sua mente angustiada. Ele decidiu que precisava pensar um pouco mais sobre aquilo.

Aquele jovem já havia tido problemas suficientes e talvez precisasse de tempo para processar algumas coisas, antes que qualquer outra ação pudesse ser planeada ou feita.

Ele tentou evitar os olhares de seus amigos, quando se afastou por um tempo e ficou na varanda, olhando para um ponto perdido à distância.

Sua mente não estava mais ali, mas em outro lugar e em outra época... Seus pensamentos transbordavam rapidamente, pedindo uma urgente atuação. Ele precisava fazer algo.

O homem de pele pálida sentou-se ao computador e digitou algumas palavras. O resultado da pesquisa fez com que fosse desviado rapidamente para uma série de páginas, que sucediam-se umas às outras, até que ele achou o que procurava.

Fechou o laptop, aprumou-se e murmurou para si mesmo:

- Acho que está na hora de ir ver tudo isso por mim mesmo...

Ele voltou para a sala de estar.

- Rapazes! Precisamos fazer uma coisa... Mas primeiro temos que dar uma passada na praia, a caminho da cidade.

- Na praia?

Ele concordou com um leve sorriso.

- Sim. Na praia…

***

O Jeep seguia pela estrada da praia, na direção dos moinhos. Os três iam em silêncio, cada qual ocupado com suas próprias questões.

Estacionaram não muito longe do destino e seguiram a pé, pela passadeira de madeira, que àquela hora estava cheia de pessoas, a caminhar tranquilamente e a apreciar a vista e a brisa fresca do mar.

Tinham que manter as aparências e passar por apenas um punhado de frequentadores da praia, caminhando erraticamente à beira-mar, tirando fotos de tudo ao redor, como qualquer turista moderno.

- Cá estão eles. E o que fazemos agora?

- Há muitas pessoas por perto. Precisamos ter cuidado.

- Para todos os efeitos, estamos apenas procurando ‘geocaches’...

- Essa é a versão oficial?

- Sim. Essa é a versão oficial, mas acho que ninguém está interessado no que estamos fazendo aqui.

Eles tentaram fotografar as muitas características daqueles prédios peculiares, feitos de pedra e xisto. Havia cinco deles ao longo do caminho de madeira, de frente para o mar. Cada detalhe foi devidamente registado pelas câmaras dos telemóveis, para ser examinado posteriormente. Se o homem da pele pálida estivesse certo em suas suspeitas, eles precisariam voltar à praia, à noite, para uma verificação mais próxima.

A noite, como acontece quando se está ansioso, caiu muito lentamente. Sentados numa esplanada, de frente para o mar, os três bebiam suas cervejas geladas, quase em completo silêncio. O lugar já não estava tão movimentado. Eles analisaram, com cuidado, as fotos tiradas, verificando detalhes do que achavam que lhes seria útil mais tarde.

O homem de pele pálida estava certo em suas dúvidas. Havia algo lá, que merecia uma melhor investigação... definitivamente...

***

A noite estava mais fresca e tranquila. Três silhuetas se moviam silenciosamente pelo passadiço de madeira. Eles sabiam o que procuravam, mas precisavam ter cuidado. Os moinhos não eram propriedade pública e, portanto, seus donos poderiam ter câmaras instaladas em torno da área, o que lhes seria um incômodo.

Antes de saltarem sobre o cercado de corda, para examinar o primeiro edifício, olharam à volta, com cuidado, para certificar-se de que estavam sozinhos.

O homem de óculos de repente ficou rígido.

- Essa não! Vocês ouviram isso?

- O quê?

- Shhh! Ouçam!

Alguém vinha correndo no caminho de madeira.

- Rápido, vamos nos esconder!

Esperando não serem vistos pelo corredor, que se aproximava de onde estavam, os três esconderam-se à sombra do pequeno prédio de formato cilíndrico. Seus corações batiam forte. Eles podiam ouvir os passos chegando cada vez mais perto.

Um corredor, usando um casaco de treino escuro, com capuz, diminuiu a velocidade e parou em frente ao moinho. Olhando em volta, como se a certificar-se que não havia mais ninguém por perto, a figura entrou na propriedade privada e desapareceu-lhes da vista.

Eles ouviram um barulho. Parecia que a entrada estava sendo forçada.

O homem de óculos sussurrou.

- Quem diabos é este? O que ele está fazendo aqui?

- Quieto!

As dobradiças, sem graxa, rangeram com um som distinto. A porta fora, de alguma forma, aberta.

- Ele entrou! O que ele está procurando?

- Vamos sair daqui antes que alguém apareça. Isso está ficando muito perigoso!

- Espera!

O som alto de um alarme, disparado, vinha de dentro da casa. Eles ouviram alguém correndo pelas escadas abaixo e, de repente, a figura encapuzada passou correndo por eles, saltou sobre o cercado de corda e desapareceu na escuridão, longe deles e da iluminação pública.

Pouco depois, um carro da polícia, piscando as luzes vermelhas e azuis, subia em alta velocidade pela velha rua de paralelos, seguido por uma carrinha branca, com grandes letras vermelhas pintadas na lateral. Os dois carros pararam em frente ao moinho.

Eles ouviram o barulho de pessoas gritando e correndo para perto de onde estavam...

- Que porra é esta? Viste aquilo? Eu não acredito!

- O que esses sujeitos estão fazendo aqui? O que eles querem aqui, afinal?

- Vamos sair daqui antes que seja tarde demais. Isto não vai acabar bem!

- Não. Espere! Aquele homem não teve tempo suficiente para procurar o que quer que seja, enquanto esteve lá dentro. Eu me pergunto o que ele estava procurando lá em cima. Talvez esta seja a nossa única hipótese de entrar no moinho, sem forçar a entrada…

- O que tu queres dizer com isto? Estás louco? Não podemos entrar lá. Esta gente é perigosa e pode nos reconhecer!

- Acabo de ter uma ideia. Vamos dar a volta no moinho e fingir que somos apenas mais alguns intrometidos, tentando descobrir o que está acontecendo. É melhor nos separarmos!

- Isso é loucura!

- Mas pode dar certo!

- Não pense muito. Apenas vá. Agora!

Pessoas vinham, correndo, de direções diferentes. Aquilo não era algo que a pacata vila estava acostumada, por isso parecia ser um grande evento.

Eles se separaram um do outro, tentando evitar serem vistos juntos.

Quando o homem de óculos se aproximou da porta, sentiu um puxão no braço.

- Ei!

Ele virou-se e constatou que um dos policiais lhe segurava o braço. Sua surpresa foi maior ao perceber que outro homem, que ele tinha certeza já haver visto antes, estava de pé ao lado do oficial.

***

Time Traveller. Part 2. Oblivion.

The three men were in silence, for a moment. There was not much else to say. The one wearing glasses was holding his head in his both hands, shaking it slightly, trying to process what he had just heard.

- How could that be possible? Why did they do that? I wonder if such a complicated trip to the future and with that purpose had helped anyone, anywhere, anytime, anyway…

- I guess we will never know.

- Well, then how would we know I really did get there and reached the intent?

-You would have never gotten back here if you hadn’t.

- Then…?

- Oblivion was rarely used in time travelling. It was efficient when they wanted to send the voyagers back to when and where they came from. Sometimes also to prevent being revisited. You travelled to help them and all mankind in the future. Those must not be the reasons they used it in you.  I wonder what the real intention was…

That was not the only concern in the pale skinned man’s mind, however. Something else seemed to be out of place. He thought the parts they acknowledged about that whole story did not fit well, somehow, but he did not want to express his apprehensions out loud still. He had some doubts, but an idea was building up in his distressed mind. He had decided he needed to think a little longer about it.

The young man had had trouble enough for the moment and maybe he would need time to process some things before anything else could be planned or done.

He tried to avoid his friends’ stares, when he walked off for a while and stayed out in the porch, gazing at a point that could not really be seen in the distance.

His mind was elsewhere, in another place and another time… His thoughts were hastily overflowing and urging for action. He needed to do something.

The pale man sat by the computer and typed some words. The result of the search made him divert quickly to a string of pages, until he thought he found what he was looking for.

He closed the laptop, straightened up and muttered to himself:

- I think it’s more than time to go and see this whole thing by myself…

He walked back to the living room.

- Guys, we need to do something... but first we need to stop at the beach, on our way down to the city.

- At the beach?

He acceded with a faint smile.

- Yes. At the beach…

***

They drove along the beach road to where the mills were standing. The car was parked not too far from their destination. The wooden walkway was quite filled with passers-by. For all that mattered, they were a bunch of beach-goers, walking erratically by the seashore, taking pictures of everything around.

- There they are. And what do we do now?

- There are too many people around. We will need to be careful.

- For all that matters, we are just looking for geocaches…

- Is that the official version?

- Yes. That’s the official one, but I don’t think anyone is interested in what we are doing here, anyway.

They pretended to be taking pictures of every feature of the peculiar rock and shale constructed buildings. There were five of them along a line by the wooden built pathway, facing the sea. Each one was photographed in detail to be scrutinized later. If the pale man was right in his suspicions, they would need to come back to the beach in the evening, for a closer check.

The night came down very slowly. They were sitting out in the terrace, facing the sea and drinking cold beer, almost in complete silence. The place was not busy. They had been analysing the pictures taken and some needed to be zoomed up to show details of what they thought would be useful later.

The pale skinned man was correct in his qualms. There was something there... definitely…

***

The night was fresher and quieter. Three silhouettes moved silently along the wooden pathway. The men knew what they were looking for, but they needed to be careful. The mills were not public property. The owners could have cameras installed around the area, which would be a nuisance.

When they reached the mills, they looked around to certify they were alone, before getting into their target. They jumped over the roped rail, so to examine the first building.

The man wearing glasses suddenly got stiff.

- Do you hear that?

- What?

- Shhh! Listen!

Someone was running on the wooden pathway.

- Quick, let’s hide.

They hasted to the shadow of the round building, hoping they had not been seen by the runner who was getting closer to where they were. Their hearts were pounding hard. They could hear him (or her) coming closer and closer.

A jogger wearing a dark hoodie slowed down and stopped right in front of the mill. Looking around as if checking if there were no one else around, the figure stepped into the private property and disappeared from their sight. They heard a noise. It seemed the door was being forced.

The man wearing glasses whispered.

- Who the hell is that? How come he is here?

- Quiet!

The door seemed to have been opened. It kind of complained in its ungreased hinges, with a distinctive sound.

- He is in! What is he looking for in there?

- Let’s get out of here, before someone shows up. This is getting too dangerous!

- Wait!

The loud sound of an alarm setting off was coming from inside the house. They heard someone hurrying down the stairs and suddenly the hooded figure sprinted past them, jumped over the roped rail and disappeared in the darkness, away from them and from the light.

Not long afterwards a police car, flashing its red and blue lights, raced up the cobblestone street, followed by a white van with red lettering on the side. The two cars stopped by the mill. They heard the noise of people shouting and running closer…

- What the fuck? Did you see that? I can’t believe this!

- What are these guys doing here? What are they up to?

- This is not good news! Let’s get out of here before it’s too late.

- No. Wait! That man did not have time enough to search for things while he was in there. I wonder what he was looking for upstairs. Maybe this is our chance to get in the mill, without trespassing…

- What do you mean? Are you crazy? We cannot go in there. These guys are dangerous and they might know us!

- I’ve just had an idea. We’ll turn around the mill and pretend we are just nosy passers-by trying to find out what’s going on here. We better split!

- This is crazy, man!

- Don’t think much. Just go. Now!

People were coming from different directions. A police event was something the quiet village was not used to, so it was quite a commotion.

They walked around, separated from each other, trying to avoid being seen together.

When the man wearing glasses was approaching the door, he felt like someone pulled him back.

- Hey!

He turned around. A policeman was holding his arm. He stiffened when he realized there was another man, he was sure he had seen before, standing by the officer.

***

Viajante do Tempo. Parte 1. O Farol.

- Sabe, às vezes eu sinto que não pertenço a este lugar e a este tempo. E é mais do que apenas algumas vezes.

- E tu és, agora, um viajante do tempo?

Ele fez a pergunta, sorrindo.

- Tu também não te sentes, às vezes, fora do tempo e do lugar?

Ele sorriu de novo, de uma maneira engraçada, como se soubesse mais do que estava dizendo ao amigo.

- Sinto, sim.

- Então me entendes, quando eu digo isso... É tão...

Dessa vez, ele ficou pensativo, como se algo mais sério lhe ocorresse.

- Tu não tens ideia do quanto eu te entendo...

***

- Nós não deveríamos estar aqui. Se alguém nos vê...

- Calado! Ninguém vai-nos ver. Nós estamos seguros. Já passa muito da meia-noite.

- E se a polícia aparecer?

- Seremos rápidos. Eu só quero ter certeza de que está realmente aqui.

- E como nós vamos saber?

- Eu vou saber, acredite em mim...

- Está bem.

- Deveria estar por aqui em algum lugar, mas é tão trivial que ninguém jamais notaria. Ou, se o fizerem, nunca teriam uma ideia do que realmente é. Cá está. Eu sabia!

- Pronto. Já achamos, agora vamos embora daqui! É apenas um ‘geocache’!

- É assim que pode parecer, mas é mais do que isso. Não é uma caixa. Vês? Tenho certeza que é um portal.

- O que nós vamos fazer?

- Nada. Não vamos fazer nada. É mais seguro que fique aqui, do jeito que está.

- Achas que há mais?

- Portais?

- Viajantes?

Ele olhou para o jovem de óculos, em silêncio. Seu rosto estava protegido pela sombra, mas houve uma súbita mudança na sua forma de respirar.

- Vamos sair daqui, agora. Não tarda a amanhecer.

- Espera. Alguém se aproxima. Ouves?

- Rápido! Faz alguns alongamentos. Finge que estamos exercitando.

O som dos passos ficou mais alto. Alguém vinha correndo a caminho do cais e se aproximava de onde eles estavam.

O rapaz de óculos virou-se e descansou a perna no parapeito inferior, esticando-se devagar com as mãos, tentado alcançar os pés, como se estivesse fazendo alongamentos. Seu companheiro segurava um pé com uma das mãos, suportado por uma perna, apenas.

Eles não conseguiam ver se o rosto do corredor recém-chegado, no interior do capuz do casaco de treino escuro, era jovem ou velho, mas pela maneira como ele se movia, podia-se dizer que era um homem atlético. Ele passou pela pista e deu a volta ao redor do farol, voltou ao cais e saiu pelo mesmo caminho que veio, entrando no calçadão. Logo ganhou a rua e desapareceu na escuridão novamente. O som de seus passos foi desaparecendo ao longe.

Os dois homens se entreolharam, aliviados.

- Essa foi por pouco!

- Que nada! Pare de ter tanto medo de tudo. Vamos voltar. Já tivemos mais que o suficiente esta madrugada.

Eles saíram rapidamente para onde o jipe ​​estava estacionado e entraram, não sem antes olharem a volta.

Não viram o homem vestindo um casaco de treino, escuro e com capuz, parado do outro lado da área do estacionamento, protegido da vista, pela penumbra.

Assim que o carro saiu, ele atravessou o parque e voltou a se aproximar do farol, correndo...

***

Os dois chegaram em casa em alguns minutos, já que não havia tráfego àquela hora da manhã. Ainda tinham algumas coisas para discutir.

- Que porra era aquela? Era mesmo um portal? A sério? Eu pensei que havíamos ido procurar um ‘geocache’…

- Tu sabes muito bem que era um portal e não um ‘cache’. Tu viste os detalhes…

O homem de óculos estava totalmente confuso, pois sabia que aquelas coisas eram difíceis de entender e acreditar.

Seu amigo parecia mais à vontade com a existência de um portal, embora desde que eles haviam deixado o farol, parecia bastante distraído, como se estivesse em outro mundo… ou época.

- Tu achas que nós deveríamos...?

- Eu acho.

- Quando?

- Quanto mais cedo melhor. Vamos arrumar algumas coisas nas mochilas. Talvez não voltemos hoje.

***

O sol mal acabava de nascer e eles já estavam na estrada para o norte. A A28 estava silenciosa, mas logo estaria movimentada, devido ao tráfego para as zonas industriais e às pessoas que iam para as praias.

- Um portal? Não é possível! Mas aquele último foi totalmente destruído!

- Eu sei. Mas tudo aponta para um novo e nós o localizamos. Está lá, tão à vista quanto um ‘geocache’ normal… mas com detalhes muito característicos.

- Como isso pode ser possível? A menos que... Espera!... Não, não, não... Isso é improvável...

- O quê? Espera aí! Tu estás sugerindo que eles voltaram para cá?

- Do que vocês dois estão falando? Isto não faz nenhum sentido.

- Mas por que aqui e por que agora? O que há aqui, nesta era, que poderia ser de algum interesse para eles?

- Eu não faço ideia. Se tivéssemos alguma indicação do que aconteceu, quando...

Eles olharam para o homem de óculos.

- ‘Oblívio’, o ‘Esquecimento’...

- OK! Vamos parar aqui e agora. Quero saber tudo sobre este incidente com ‘Oblívio’... Passou-se bastante tempo. Já está mais que na hora de falarmos sobre isso. E não me tentem enganar mais, por favor!

Os dois homens olharam para aquele que usava óculos. Ele estava lívido.

- OK. É melhor sentar. Vou-te trazer um pouco de água. Relaxe um pouco, sim?

- Eu não quero e nem vou relaxar. Tudo isso parece estar relacionado. Digam-me já o que aconteceu... Quero saber agora!

- Ok, mas agora, sente-se, por favor. Beba a água. Eu vou explicar... Ou, pelo menos, vou tentar esclarecer-te esta história, de uma vez por todas.

***

Time Traveller. Part 1. The Lighthouse.

- You know, sometimes I just feel I don’t belong in here. And it’s more than just some times.

- Are you a time traveller?

He was smiling when he asked.

- Don’t you feel sometimes you’re out of time and out of place?

He smiled again, in his funny way, as if knowing more than what he was telling his friend.

- I do.

- Then you know how I feel… It’s just so…

This time he was thoughtful as if something more serious came to his mind.

- You have no idea how much I understand…

***

- We shouldn’t be here. If someone sees us…

- Shush! Nobody will. We are safe. It’s long past midnight.

- What if the police shows up?

- We will be quick. I just want to make sure it’s really here. 

- How would we know?

- I will know, believe me…

- OK.

- It should be around here somewhere, but it is so trivial, no one would ever notice it. Or if they do, they would never have an idea of what it really is. There it is. I knew it!

- It’s just a cache!

- That is what it could look like, but it’s more than that. It’s not a box. See?

- What are we going to do?

- Nothing. It’s safer if it is kept here, the way it is.

- Do you think there are more?

- Portals?

- Travellers?

He looked at the young man wearing glasses, in silence. His face was in darkness, but his breathing could be heard from a distance. And it had changed a bit.

- Let’s get out of here now. It will be morning soon.

- I hear footsteps.

- Quick! Do some stretching. Pretend we are exercising.

The sound of the steps became louder. Someone was running on the pathway to the jetty and getting closer to where they were.

The man wearing glasses turned around and stretched his leg on the lower rail, going slowly with his hands to his feet, as if stretching arms, back and legs. His mate was holding his foot with his hands, standing in one leg only.

They could not really see inside the dark hooded sweatshirt, if the newcomer was young or old, but by the way he moved, they could say the runner was a young strong man. He passed along the lane and ran around the lighthouse, coming back to the jetty and out of the pathway, into the street boardwalk and disappeared in the darkness again. The sound of his running steps faded in the distance.

The two men looked at each other in relief.

- That was close.

- It was not. Stop being so scared of everything. Let’s go back. We’ve had enough.

They left quickly to where the Jeep was parked, by the walkway and got into it, not before looking around.

They did not see the man wearing a dark hooded sweatshirt standing on the other side of the parking lot, hiding in the dark.

As soon as the car left, he crossed the parking area and went back to the jetty, running…

***

They got home in some minutes, as there was no traffic at that time in the morning. They still had some things to discuss.

- What the fuck was that? A portal?

- Yes. You know very well.

The man wearing glasses was feeling totally confused, as he knew those things were hard to understand and to believe in.

His friend seemed to be more comfortable with the existence of a portal, although since they had left the lighthouse earlier on, he seemed to be very absent-minded, as if he was in another world or era.

- Do you think we should…?

- I guess so.

- When?

- The sooner the best. Pack some things. We might not be back today.

***

When the sun was still rising, they were already on the road to the north. The A28 motorway was quiet, but soon it would be busy, either because of the traffic to the industrial areas or the people going to the beaches.

- A portal? It’s not possible! We had the last one completely destroyed!

- I know. But everything points to a new one and we had it located.

- How can that be possible? Unless… wait… no, no, no… That is unlikely…

- What? Wait a minute. Are you implying that they’ve come back here?

- What are you two talking about? You make no sense at all.

- But why here and why now? What’s in here now that could possibly be of some interest for them?

- I have no idea. If we had any indication of what happened when…

They looked at the man wearing glasses.

- Oblivion…

- Ok. Stop right here and now. I want to know everything about the Oblivion incident… It’s more than time. Don’t try to fool me any further, please!

The two men looked at the one wearing glasses. He was pale.

- OK. Sit down now. I’ll bring you some water. Relax a bit, will you?

- I don’t want to relax. This all seem to be related. Tell me what happened… Now!

- OK, but sit down, please. Drink the water. I’ll explain… or I will try to, anyway…

***