He comes out, and this time, finds a higher rock to dive from. He plunges in, through the safe water near the surface to a colder, darker, more dangerous world beneath. Darkness beneath the beauty. As he surfaces, water runs down his face, across his eyes, trickles from his ears, and as it washes the clouds from his mind, he remembers. “What the hell am I doing?” he actually says aloud, and clambering up the rocks, makes toward his clothes. He stops, staring at them. He knows he dropped them in a pile where he undressed. Now, they’re laid out neatly, spread flat, to warm on the sunny rocks. He looks around, but can see no one. Nothing. Shaking his head, he pulls his clothes on, though he is still dripping wet. He tries to clear his head as he walks back to his house, remembering now why he came here, and that he’s supposed to be working. He ignores friendly greetings as he heads back to The Claw, and makes his way to his room, where he grabs his device and a notepad, a pen, sitting down at the bedside table. He thinks he hears a noise. The gate clicks, and he lifts his head waiting to hear approaching footsteps. None come, and then, determined not to be distracted, he concentrates again. “What was I thinking?” he says again, staring out of the window. He starts to work. He goes through what he knows. Blessed Island, an obscure self-governed community in the farthest north. Population unknown, but small. Economic 22
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