Beckett’s night was fitful, he’d had too much sleep, so he couldn’t sleep, but when he wasn’t sleeping all he could think about was his stomach cramping and the boat rocking and the wishy-washy water and the snoring and turning of the others—when he awoke the other bunks were empty.

Beckett stared at the wood paneling above him. It shifted left and right but his stomach remained steady. His stomach was also empty and wanted to be filled. He sat slowly and then stood slowly, holding onto the walls, and climbed carefully to the deck.

The bright sun shocked his eyes.

He descended to the galley. Captain Aria was there. “I’m finishing up lunch. Ready for breakfast?”

“Yes, I um, think so.”

“Thinking it means you’re on the mend which is good, because I was about to have you arrested for a stowaway.” She boomed “Dan, Stanford needs something to eat,” though Dan was only a few feet away in the tiny kitchen.

Beckett said, “I’m glad you didn’t have me arrested, I think I can be available now.”

“Good, we’re going to sit here for a while, take water samples around this Outpost. Have some food, then meet Rebecca up on deck. I’m sure she can use the extra hands. Even green hands.”

Beckett poured himself a cup of coffee and put cold scrambled eggs between two pieces of cold toast with bacon and mayo. He sat at a booth by himself and ate slowly, staring forward at the empty seat, concentrating on keeping it down.

* * *

When he stepped out to the deck, he was instantly blinded, the sun was bright and high. Once he became acclimated, he looked to the right and then the left and, Whoa. That was an Outpost, his Outpost. He was on a ship parked beside his Outpost. Rebecca was leaning over the port railing and then straightened, writing into the pages of a book.

Beckett strode up, unable to take his eyes from the trees on the top edge of the roof. “That’s where I lived.”

Rebecca turned, “What?”

“That Outpost, that was where I was stationed until—what day is it?”

Rebecca pulled up a small bucket on a rope. “The nineteenth.”

“Until three days ago.” Beckett gulped. Three days. Anna had been out here, somewhere, for three days. He turned to look out the starboard side of the ship, north, the direction she had paddled. Nothing but empty ocean as far as he could see.

A box was shoved against his chest. It was dripping wet, lucite, containing five test tubes. He stepped forward and glanced down. Two heads were down in the water. Rebecca threw another bucket over the railing, swinging it out, “Heads up!”

She turned to Beckett, “Take that to Sarah and Dr. Mags in the lab.”

“The lab?”

“Back there.” She jerked her head toward the aft deck.

Beckett held tight of every railing while he walked, stride wide, knees bent, even though the sea was mostly still and the ship was barely moving and he probably looked ridiculous.

He found Sarah in the lab, a small room that looked more like a kitchen than the galley did. The counters were covered in aquariums full of tiny fish, a few brimming with plants, some with coral.

On the only bare counter, Sarah was gutting a three foot fish with a long knife.

Beckett asked, “Where should I put this?”

She jerked her neck toward a side counter where Dr. Mags was working. Beckett watched Sarah for a second. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun and occasionally she blew a gust of air toward her forehead causing the tiny hairs there to dance at the same time as fish innards schplocked and schpulked as she ripped them from the belly.

She said, “I’m glad you’re up, we need the extra hands.” She reached into the stomach and pulled out a small handful of gunk-covered plastic pieces and listed “Pellets, tabs, tops, line.”

Dr. Mags checked boxes on a whiteboard as she spoke.

Beckett said, “Should I go back out to Rebecca?” Sarah nodded making another incision in the fish.

When he returned to the deck Dan was climbing the ladder wearing a full scuba suit, dripping wet. He pulled his mask off. “Wanna dive?”

Beckett shook his head, “No, um, no I don’t dive, don’t know how.”

Dan said, “Oh that’s right, you’re Army, yet you’re on a boat.” Dan dropped from the railing to the deck and peeled down his wetsuit. “I’m Navy, see, it makes sense. Don’t you have levees to build or dams to hide behind?”

Rebecca said, “He used to live on that Outpost. Three days ago. He might be Army but he can’t get enough of water.”

Beckett said, “I don’t agree, I think this is plenty of water.”

Dan smirked. Rebecca handed him a bucket, “That’s the last sample we needed, when you’re out of your wetsuit, take this to Sarah.” Then to Beckett she said, “You’re probably a part of the signs on the side then, right?”

Beckett asked, “Signs?”

Rebecca led him to the front of the ship and pointed back at a corner of the Outpost. “The signs.”

The signs. Anna had drawn signs. What did they mean? “Rebecca do you have a piece of paper?”

She ripped a piece of paper from her notebook and gave him a pencil.

He drew the images.

A box with an X in it.

An apple.

A butterfly.

What did that mean?

Those were new. Those were Anna’s drawings. He knew it. They were above the other signs, the ones that Anna mentioned when they met.

After scribbling on the paper he looked up and one thought hit him in his gut, the Outpost was still standing.

Still Standing. The water had risen, but the Outpost was still there.

He didn’t have to leave that day, he could have stayed, with Anna, living on the Outpost. He would have had more time. Could have persuaded her to come home with him. More time.

Rebecca watched over his shoulder, “That means Outpost is empty, I think.”

Beckett’s brow furrowed. She explained, “I watched that documentary.”

Beckett nodded. Of course. “Do you have any idea what this butterfly means?”

“Nope, but it looks more like a moth.”