"Priscilla, do you smell that...kind of refreshing...what is it'?
"It smells like seawater", her nose wrinkled," and cinnamon"
They approached the strange shapes in the gloom.
They could just make out a row of three flat saucers, with sharp vertical surfaces. about 10 meters across, and 3 high.
The metallic skins reflected a strange deep purple in the spot of the torch.
Wilkins was opening his mouth to suggest they both back out of the room when a loud click sounded and echoed acroos the space.
A seam opened on the side of the nearest and a bright blue light sliced out at them.
They could just make out a backlit form in the glare.
It raised one arm, beckoning them.
"It seems an eternity since I've had visitors... Enter freely, and of your own will" a quiet chuckle followed.
The accent was continental.
Something scurried about within the craft, but they stepped over the threashold and into the care of their unexpected host.
The seam closed behind them.