The world was a brilliant green. Although there wasn’t much to it. When the waves were calm it didn’t look too different from a field. An endless field in every direction only broken by the distant hulking target.

For the uninitiated it would be unnerving.

Aden checked the rebreather one final time and broke the surface with nary a splash. Not that it mattered at this distance. The environs were as limitless as before. Though now without the stars the world had grown more alien than an interstellar cruise.

Unhooking the scooter from the rubber hull and pointing northwest he engaged a trio of silent jets. This was his favorite part. Plunging toward insertion with all the sonic fanfare of a minnow, he reveled in the weightless flight.

Three and half miles and some adjustments later he was within range. He left the scooter letting it hover. After assuring the thing was synched with his watch he swam the remaining mile and half to the colossal hull of the Mortimer.

I was on the shore.

The pier was a few miles distant.

I exited the hatchback.

My wingtips scraping up wet sand and sullying my slacks.

It was empty.

Not a soul in sight.

An occasional seagull or distant pelican were my only companions.

The grey cloud littered sky threatened neither rain nor shine in its resigned indifference.

I was not indifferent.

I had to know.

The old man lived on an island just a half mile from the coast.

The pier was ancient. Whatever lumber or process had been used was definitely excellent. The antique bolts and joists spoke of a long forgotten century.

The dinghy was moored to a post.

I should have dressed more appropriately.

But I also should have been warned of a swim.

That was all irrelevant.

I waded almost to my waist and awkwardly hauled myself into the boat.

Motor traffic was strictly prohibited in the cove.

I began to row.