Flying for this long is a little surreal, floating along with nothing but the sound of the wind flowing by, high enough up that my bots feel nothing but the currents of the air. The half moon and the bright stars give just enough light to tell the sea from the sky. Evan and I ran out of stuff to talk about a while back, and Andrea is even harder to talk to than normal when she has her face covered. I see the lights on the shore ahead. Finally.
We land on the first beach we see, coming in fast and kicking up a good bit of sand as we touch down. The only people I can see or feel are an older couple sitting on beach chairs on the still-warm sand. They seem to take our dramatic entrance in stride, but that might have been helped along by the three empty wine bottles resting on the sand between them.
“Pardon me,” Evan asks them politely as his flight suit melts away. “Is there any place nearby where we could find a good meal?”
The man points us to a diner just across the street from the beach. Evan thanks him and we get there just before they close. The waitress gives us an exhausted look, so I fish into my backpack and put a small stack of high-denomination bills on the table before we even get started. That gets a smile back on her face. I figure since we’ve been eating cheap canned stuff for a couple of weeks, we can afford to eat well and tip big. A few hundred dollars more or less won’t change the Institute’s financial situation, and it seems like it will make a difference to the nice Hawaiian lady taking our orders. We all order their daily special, the loco moco. I have no idea what it is, but I’m hungry enough that the packets of jam in the little box on the table are looking tempting by the time she brings out the food. It turns out it’s a huge pile of rice topped with burger patties, gravy, and sunny-side up eggs. It’s tasty and filling and just what we all needed after the long flight.
As we eat, I pull my regular phone from my backpack and flip it open for the first time since we left land. I’ve got a whole bunch of messages waiting for me, but the important ones right now are from my new assistant Alan letting me know that he’s been tracking the satellite phone and has lodgings set up for us a couple of kilometers down the highway. Sheryl’s messages let me know that she set up a press event for us in the morning at that same hotel.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
The rest of the texts are mostly updates on the prep work for the Asia trip, which I skim into my index to digest later. Alan seems to be working out great so far, no major emergencies that I need to deal with right away. I hope he’s not Dorothy’s mole, but that seems unlikely since he had just started with us right before the trip. She would have needed more notice than he would have been able to give her to get a boat that size out there in time.
I think through transportation options as we step outside, but Andrea makes the decision for us as she starts jogging down the road. I don’t mind, since it feels good to stretch out. Not that the flight suit is an uncomfortable way to travel—the first little while is great—but ten hours in basically the same position is a long time. Evan and I try unsuccessfully to keep up with Andrea, but she gets way ahead and by the time we arrive at the posh resort hotel huffing and puffing, we find her in a deck chair by the pool sipping a piña colada. Alan must have done a good job with whatever he did to set this up, because the staff immediately gives us the VIP treatment and soon we’re tucked into a nice three-bedroom suite.
My room has a huge soaker tub that I immediately take advantage of, sinking in and letting the warm water wash away the sweat and tension. I might have fallen asleep in there if Evan didn’t call to me from the suite’s living room. I hop out, dry off, and throw on a change of clothes from my backpack. Evan and Andrea have just started a movie when I get there and are munching on some snacks and lounging on the huge couch. I check the freezer in the tiny kitchen and find an ice cream bar. Perfect. I flop down between them and let the frozen chocolate and vanilla do their work while we laugh at the antics on the screen. I don’t think I’ve seen this one before, but I might have. If I didn’t write it down here it doesn’t really matter much either way.
Andrea leaves us first. She doesn’t even make it to the end of the show. Evan and I stay up until the credits roll. Evan pats me on the shoulder and checks to make sure I’m OK as we head to our rooms.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” I tell him. “I’ve had a lot of time to think since my midnight swim. My mom wouldn’t have liked what I did. What it would have done to you and Andrea. What it would have meant for the world. You guys still need me. The plan still needs me. I’ve got too much I need to do to take any easy way out. I’ve been a real bastard, but I’m going to do better. I’m going to live so that Mom would have been proud of me.”
“Good enough, brother,” he replies, pulling me in for one of his gigantic hugs. “Now get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”