Devin had just gotten the fire going when Milo walked out with his basket of crabs. There was a metal rack there, apparently cannibalized from the bed like the knives had been. Milo dumped his crabs into the large clay pot that he’d filled with water earlier before setting it atop the rack. Devin grabbed another pot to fill with water for the roots, setting off into the trees.

Not sure what else to do, Milo went back inside the cottage to see if Julie had any more tasks for him.

“Just finishing up with the roots,” she said. “Give me a minute. We’ll get these going, then I’ll show you the fish traps.”

Milo nodded, somewhat disappointed to see how small the pile of edible root bits was compared to the several baskets’ worth of unprocessed roots they’d collected. He kept his thoughts to himself, though.

A few minutes later, a pot of roots sat next to the pot of crabs atop the fire. Devin was tasked with tending the cooking while Julie escorted Milo to the beach.

“You like fish?” she asked as they followed the trail through the trees.

“Fish is fine,” he said, shrugging. “Kinda depends on the fish. I like salmon okay. White fish tends to be a little bland.”

“I didn’t, at first. Not on Earth, and not here either. They’ve grown on me though. Plus, they’re some of the easiest calories around. Eric figured out how to make these ingenious fish traps. He used to like watching all those survival shows. Like Man vs. Wild, Survivorman, you know? I always thought they were stupid. What kind of person goes into the woods on purpose and risks starving or getting killed by a wild animal when you can get groceries delivered to your door? I was really grateful for it when we found ourselves here, though. All that useless information suddenly wound up coming in really handy. Even if he didn’t know exactly what to do, he at least knows a lot of what’s possible.”

“Yeah,” said Milo. “I don’t watch those shows too much, but they are kinda fun I think. Maybe it’s a guy thing.”

There was a lull in the conversation, which Milo felt keenly. He was pretty sure it was his turn, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Sooo...what did you do before coming here?” Julie asked.

“Uh…” Milo always hated this conversation, since he didn’t really have a career. Or a job. Or a particular passion. “I was...figuring things out. I spent six years in the Navy, and since I got out I’ve sort of been bouncing around.”

“The Navy?” Julie asked with a hint of excitement. “So you were a sailor? Do you, like...I mean, I’m sure you were on ships with way more advanced technology than the one Eric was building, but do you think you can help get us off the island?”

“Heh,” Milo said. “Definitely not. Not with sailing knowledge, anyway. I never set foot on a boat the entire time I was in the Navy.”

“Wait, really? So what did you do?”

“Intel stuff,” he shrugged. “Shore duty. Some flying, actually.”

“You were a pilot?”

“No, I was in the back of a plane, doing intel stuff. I can’t really go into much detail since it’s, you know, classified.”

Julie arched an eyebrow. “We’re on another planet.”

“Huh. Yeah. Crap,” he laughed. Milo was silent for a moment, debating how much to tell her. He wasn’t overly proud of his past, but he’d realized over the years that it never felt good hiding things from people, or altering the truth to make himself look better. Honesty was a better foundation for building relationships, he’d found.

“The secrecy thing is my go-to excuse for not talking about it. It is definitely classified, but the real reason I don’t like talking about it is that I absolutely hated my job and had zero interest in it. Plus, I didn’t really believe in what I was doing. I wanted out of the Navy about three years in, but they invest a lot in you. I had like two years of training leading up to doing my actual job. The military really doesn’t like letting you go. They threaten you with all sorts of nastiness if you desert. I finished out my enlistment, but I did the bare minimum. Coasting, you know? It sucked.” Milo looked at the trail in front of them, the old feelings of shame not letting him meet her eyes. He left out the bits about the disciplinary hearings and punishments he’d received when he’d started neglecting his duties in the hopes that they’d kick him out.

“I see. What made you join? Could you have had a different job?”

“I joined because...there wasn’t anything else, I guess? I don’t know. I tend to be a bit, uh, depressive. Nothing seemed interesting. I didn’t want to pursue anything. College just seemed like a lot of work for no reason...but I still wanted something to happen in my life, you know? I figured, if I joined the military, they would give me some structure and discipline. Push me. Maybe, I don’t know, light a fire in me. Plus, the pay and benefits seemed pretty good,” he finished with a small smile and a glance over at Julie.

“That always helps,” Julie said, smiling back.

“Yeah. As for getting a different job, they didn’t let people in my rating—my job—crossrate. Crossrating is, well, switching jobs. I guess we were in too high of demand, since you have to pass this special aptitude test that most people can’t, and they invest all that time and money in training us.”

“I see. So you’re kind of a smartypants?” she said with a sly glance.

“...yeah, I guess? That was kind of a humblebrag, wasn’t it? Sorry.”

“A humblebrag? I don’t think I’ve heard that before, but I guess it fits.”

“Huh. I guess I only started hearing it in the last couple of years,” Milo realized. “Probably an internet thing.”

“I miss the internet,” Julie said mournfully.

“Yeah,” agreed Milo.

“So, you got out of the Navy. Then what? You said you’ve been bouncing around?”

“Yeah. First thing I did after getting out was do some traveling for a few months, but then I started taking classes at a community college near my hometown.”

“I thought you said college seemed like a waste of time.”

“Yeah. I stopped after a while. The only class I liked was an acting elective.”

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“So then what?”

Milo shrugged. “I went to LA.”

“Why?”

“To act,” he said, feeling a little self-conscious.

“Wow, so that was it? You liked an acting class so off you went? You’ve got guts. I get major stage fright whenever I have to get in front of people.”

“Me too.”

She laughed at that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t really care for performing, per se, but I like acting, and my acting teacher at the community college thought I was talented. So, I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“So how’d it go?”

“Fine, I guess? Not amazing. I had decent roles in a couple of short films. I was actually in a big movie, too, and a few TV shows, but just as an extra. Ultimately, I decided it wasn’t for me.”

“Why not?”

“Well, best case scenario, I make it big and get famous, which isn’t actually something I want. The money would obviously be nice, but fame seems like a drag. And being on set is kinda boring, honestly. Lots of being on call, waiting for your take. Like, I was on sets with Jude Law, Christina Applegate, a few other big names. I didn’t talk to them, but I saw them waiting around just like all us extras.”

“Wow, humblebragging and name-dropping.” Julie said, smiling. “Can’t you like, be working on your lines or something?” she argued.

“I mean, you should come to set with your lines down pat if you have any. But I guess you could be working on other projects some of the time. That’s not always possible, but yeah, you’re right.” Milo paused.

“I don’t know. I guess I just became disillusioned like so many others, is what it comes down to. But I’m glad I tried it out. Navy too honestly, even though I hated it. Life experience.”

“Okay. So, acting was a bust. Then what?”

“Fitness. I went to a small personal training academy. I didn’t really expect to train people, but I figured the information would be useful for myself, at least. It was a seven month program, and after I was done I realized that I might actually want to give personal training a shot. But then coronavirus happened.”

“Coronavirus?”

“Yeah. From what I understand, someone ate a bat in China and it spread from there. To everywhere.”

“Weird...how bad was it?”

“Not terrible. Not like the plague or anything. More like the flu, honestly, but something about it has everyone all worked up. I guess it’s more virulent than the normal flu, with slightly worse symptoms? I did enough research to learn that it has the worst effect on the elderly or people with preexisting conditions, like diabetes, at which point I stopped worrying about it for myself. But people are required to wear masks in public and a lot of non-essential businesses closed down. People are working from home if possible. Gyms—and by extension, personal trainers—were hit pretty hard. So, I went to Utah to train my sisters, get some practice training that way. I was in a bedroom in my older sister’s basement when I got...taken here.” Milo decided to keep his theory about getting copied to himself.

“Huh,” she said. “I wonder if there’s much call for personal training here? On the mainland, I mean.”

“Probably not. In pre-modern times, people stayed fit enough just by living their normal lives. I mean, I’m sure I could help people get stronger if they wanted, but I doubt there’s much interest out there. I’ll have to find something else to do. What about you?” he said, changing the topic. “Were you a career woman or a family woman? Or both?”

“Family, I guess,” Julie said as the trail spat them out onto the beach. “I was studying music at college. I was a year into my BA when I met Eric. We were married less than a year later...after I got pregnant with Devin. Whoopsie,” she laughed. “My mom was upset. She thought it was too fast, that I was too young, that he was too old. That it was a mistake. I loved him though. Still do.”

Not sure if he wanted to get into a conversation about her missing husband, Milo focused on her education. “Were you still in school when you got sent here?” he asked as they approached the little boat he’d seen earlier.

“Yep,” she grunted, flipping the boat over with an obviously practiced motion. “It was just before finals week...after cramming. All that studying for nothing.” She put the basket she’d taken with them into the boat, then picked up the oar that had been hiding under the boat and put it inside as well. “Help me with this?”

“Uh, yeah. Let me get the front.” The back of the boat was squared off. The front came to a point, meaning there was just a single handhold, which was perfect for him. Milo tossed his textbook inside the boat. Then, together, they carried the boat to the edge of the water.

“One second.” Milo paused to take off his shoes and socks. Julie was already barefoot.

They launched the boat. Milo clambering over the side awkwardly, unused to the boat’s balance. Julie did it much more smoothly. There were two small benches built into the boat. Milo tried to take the rear one, but Julie stopped him, explaining that it worked better for the rower to be in the back. They awkwardly traded places, making sure not to tip the small boat.

“So how far is it?” Milo asked once they were settled.

“Not very,” she said, beginning to row. “Just past these initial shallows here. You see those buoys over there? Those are each tied to a trap.”

He did, now that he was looking. They sat low in the water, and were dark brown. “What are they? Wood?”

“No, we tried that first. Wood gets waterlogged and sinks. Those are bundles of pods that grow on seaweed to help it float. They break down after a while, so we make sure to replace them frequently. We eat seaweed all the time, so it’s no big deal to get more while we harvest it to eat.

“Cool. So you just go out and haul them up? Where’d you get the rope?”

“We make it out of tree bark. It’s a pain in the ass to make. Lots of twisting. Works great, though, if you do it right.”

“Mm,” Milo said in response. He was looking out at the buoys, gauging how long this was going to take at their current speed. A couple of minutes, he judged. Not long, but he felt a little awkward at letting her do all the work.

“Want some help?” he asked.

Julie looked at him uncertainly. “Uh, there’s just the one oar, and it’s kind of a two-handed activity…”

“No, I mean like this.” Milo activated Fetch Book. His textbook, lying at the rear of the boat, pressed up against one of the structural ridges running crossways across the bottom of the boat. Immediately, they picked up speed.

“Whoa,” Julie said, grabbing the sides of the boat to avoid falling backward.

“Sorry, I guess I could have warned you a little better.”

“No, not at all. I could get used to this!” she exclaimed. “It’s like a motorboat!”

They sped toward the buoys. Milo slowed when they were about to run into one of the gentle waves rolling in, but other than that there were no hiccups. They arrived in a fraction of the time it would have taken them had Julie been rowing.

Julie wasted no time hauling the traps up, revealing them to be wicker, cone-shaped cages that let fish in through a small hole but made it difficult for them to find their way out, almost like a one-way fish valve.

The very first trap had a fish flopping around inside of it. The next two came up empty, but the one after that had two. The final trap was empty as well.

“Not a great catch today,” Julie said, obviously disappointed. “But it’s a fish apiece at least. With all those crabs you caught, it’ll be enough. Let’s head back.”

“Three fish is a bad day?” said Milo. “That honestly seems pretty good to me, especially since all you have to do is come grab them. What do you usually get?”

“Four or five is about average, I guess. But we usually only check it once every other day. We may have to get more traps going now that we have three people again; we used to have more. Actually, there should be a couple of them down there with buoys that have broken off. Maybe tomorrow I’ll dive down and recover them.”

“Sure. I can help, if you need. I’m a good swimmer.” Milo began propelling them toward the shore, going a bit faster now that he wasn’t fighting incoming waves.

“Um, that’s okay, I can do it,” Julie said quickly. There was something odd there, but Milo ignored it as he focused on overtaking a small wave. He wanted to make sure he was directly perpendicular, so the boat would have no chance of rolling sideways.

Julie spoke up just as they were about to go over the top of the small wave. “Hey, do you think maybe we’re going a bit—” crack “—fast? Oh no.”

Milo’s heart sank as water began seeping up into the boat.