Bruce was suspended along the side of the tower, broom in hand, swatting at a gull and trying to knock a nest off part of the tower. At the sound of an engine getting closer he and the bird momentarily ceased their fight and looked down. Bruce watched as the motorbike weaved through the street and sped off towards Jane. He waved at Harold’s back with the broom and turned the last part of the movement into an attack on the bird. With a squawk the fighting continued; both Bruce and bird flapping wildly as dry grass and straw fell to the earth and dissipated with the fading sound of the engine.

With nothing left to fight for the bird flew off. Bruce looked out at the horizon; it was out past the buoy from his vantage point. It seemed strange to him to see open ocean between the buoy and the horizon. What was left to the imagination and mystery under normal circumstances became more of the same from a different perspective. He shook his head to bring his mind back from going over the horizon. This was no time for zoning out, he thought, there was a lot of work to be done on the tower and not a lot of daylight left. He looked up a few feet from his post and saw the next gull bracing for his attack. Bruce let out a sigh and began to work the pulleys and ropes to get up to it. The next few hours would continue like this until the tower was nothing but bare metal and paint. He looked out towards the ocean one last time but wouldn’t let his eyes go past the buoy.

A sudden burst of noise from the motorbike startled Jane and jolted her out of the deep grooves of thought that her mind was set in. As the rush fizzled from her nerves she returned to the fragments her fading thoughts and ticked off the last few checks on her clipboard before shutting the case to the wave-tap. She stood and looked towards the source of the sound and took the sight in with a smile before packing her things into her rucksack. She then tossed the sack over one shoulder and made her way towards Harold dismounting the bike.

“And to what do I owe this special visit?”

Harold stood with the bike between him and Jane “I thought we might take a break from the doldrums and go watch a sunset.”

Jane’s smile grew wide “A spontaneous Harold. Who knew?”

“Give me a hard time, go ahead. Ill take the bike back and go pick a meal out of the commissary.”

“Oh, no sir. My heart already skipped a few beats at the thought of night out.”

He walked around the bike and took her in his arms. He could already feel the tension leaving their bodies, “We could use it, both of us.”

“Should we gather some things?”

“No, no. I’ll have you back in the morning. If we leave now, we’ll catch the sunset in plenty of time. The other side has everything we need for one night.”

With that they mounted the bike. Jane wrapped her arms around Harold with her head looking over one of his shoulders. He revved the engine and took off with a jolt before the bike settled down into a smooth ride. They made their way through the industrial looking part of the island and out into the residential area where anyone who was not directly involved in the project carved out a life. The original families that came over in the beginning grew too big for the barracks and eventually built their own homes in the outskirts. It had the laid-back feel of a beach community without the structure and routine of going to work in the labs every day. As Harold and Jane passed by, they took in the smells of dinner being cooked. Harold could hear Jane laughing and smiling as the children chased and tried to keep up with the motorbike. He knew he was doing the right thing by getting her away from her work for a night.

The smell of fire and cooked meat soon gave way to the moisture-and-dirt smell of the jungle. The children stopped chasing as the two riders disappeared under the canopy – as if there was something in there that scared them. Harold turned on the head lamp as darkness consumed them and they made their way through the dirt paths to the other side. Jane held on tighter as the bike weaved and dipped its way over the eroded jungle path. She kept her eyes straight forward and moved her body with Harold’s as he leaned and braced along the way. After a short while the vegetation gave way to a bright beach with sun-bleached concrete megaliths jutting out from it.

This area was supposed to be part of a second wave of technicians to the island, but they never made it. Most of the public and politicians had already lost interest in the meaning of the signal by the time the second phase of operations was to begin. When they realized they would be on their own, the residents of the island turned what they could into emergency shelters in case they would ever have to evacuate their side. Until then, it doubled as a getaway from their daily lives. The only rules were to replenish anything used and try to do any necessary maintenance before leaving.

The two riders dismounted and stretched their limbs as they took in the dystopian sight of abandoned labs and the overgrown open spaces. They breathed deep and imagined the community that would have lived here. This area was set up for families to live in; it was supposed to be an entire society with footings in science, not just for the signal, but for future projects as well. Harold thought of the propaganda films as he looked at the rusted swing sets next to the crumbled walls of one of the nurseries.

“The propaganda wasn’t much of a prophecy.”

“Oh, hush. I don’t want to think about anything depressing. As far as I’m concerned were lovers on a tropical island.”

“Well, then I’ll go inside so you don’t have to be torn from your fantasy. It should all be stocked; Bruce made a run out here about a month ago. Find us a spot on the beach and think nothing of this monument to the past.”

“I shall. Don’t be too long. The sun is getting low.”

Harold made his way toward a row of buildings that weren’t as run down as the others. He kicked at a small drift of sand that had built up at the foot of one of the metal doors and spun what looked like a ship’s steering wheel until it gave some resistance, clanked, and finally gave way.

He opened the door and searched for the light switch as his eyes adjusted. A flick of the switch and the room turned yellow. It was dull light that ran off solar power; just enough to get by. Harold looked around and took stock of his surroundings. The main room looked like a hotel reception area as if he were checking in, but instead of brochures there were survival supplies. To Harold’s left was the opening to a long corridor of the dormitory, and at the end was another supply room. He went down the corridor under the yellow lights and felt like an orderly going to get a patient out of an asylum. He imagined crazies of any and many mental afflictions behind each door. He could almost hear moans and cries for help as he walked through and finally reached the end. He opened the door to the supply room and came back to reality. The smell of dust rushed his nostrils and the sobering sensation penetrated his mind. The clouds of imagination dispersed as he looked around and took a mental inventory. Each wall had stocked shelves and the center of the room had several free-standing shelving units creating isles. Harold noticed everything was fully stocked and gave mental credit to Bruce. It was a comfort to enter such a defunct looking building and find that it was fully functional on the inside. He walked down one of the isles to the back of the room where he faced an electrical panel. He opened it and smiled as he saw a few bottles of wine. He again gave Bruce a psychic thank you. He had no idea where or how Bruce got a hold of such rare items on the island, but he was glad he did.

On the way back, Harold was much happier. He imagined the corridor as an old hotel with each room housing guests of peculiar and interesting stories. He imagined world travelers and writers as they constructed and analyzed their philosophies on life. He saw himself as an aristocrat among his peers as he set out for a day on the beach with a loved one. Harold patted the counter in the reception area as if saying hello to a ghost sitting at the desk and then exited the building. He closed the door, but only just latched it for easy re-entry. As he turned toward the waves he could see that the sun had lowered and that the sky had already adopted on an orange hue. The once white clouds were on fire as they drifted across the sky. He leveled his sight to find Jane on a beach blanket anchored down with conk shells atop the highest dune.

Jane watched Harold approach and began to smile as the two bottles of wine he’d brought with him came into sight, “Well, aren’t you full of surprises today.”

He returned her smile,” We could both use it. Life has gotten so serious lately and it’s only our fault. Nothing has changed on this island except ourselves and our states of mind. We shouldn’t make it so hard. Let us have a drink and try to return tomorrow a little more content with our situation.”

“My Harold. That statement alone is the true surprise. I couldn’t agree more.”

With that Harold poured wine and handed a glass to Jane with a kiss. She accepted both with a smile and held up her glass, “To contentment”

“Yes.” Harold clinked his glass against Janes and took a sip. The initial touch of wine to his tongue tingled as it brought his taste buds to life. It then faded away and gave way to a stiff sweetness.

Harold and Jane sat in comfortable silence as they took in the scene. The sun had just begun to dip down behind the horizon and streaked a shimmering flame towards them that diffused in the crashing waves. The two watched as they let the cramping thoughts of work vacate their minds. They thought nothing of wave patterns, signals, transmissions, or even of the government that sent them here. For the fist time either of them could remember the waves just looked like waves.

The last of the sun sank behind the horizon and let out a green flash. Harold’s eyes followed it up until it disappeared into the stars. The milky way streaked across the sky and looked like it was ripping the universe apart above them. He sat for a while with one arm around Jane’s shoulder and felt the warmth of her body running down the length of his. He looked up again at the night sky and felt connected to his ancestors that looked up and saw the same thing. For a moment he and all the people before him existed as one. He felt a tinge of emptiness as he tried to connect to anyone of the future. The wine and the awe of the universe slowly untangled the stresses in his mind. He continued to zone out for quite a while and took comfort in the lowered volume of his thoughts. The static white noise of the crashing waves consumed his drifting mind. Gently and with time, his thoughts began to return to this earthly existence and he noticed that Jane was beginning to nod off. He delicately nudged her awake.

“Come on. Let’s find a bed.”

“hmph…”

“Oh, come one. Don’t make me carry you.”

She was barely audible; “Up, I’m up. Let’s go”

The two leaned on each other as they shuffled toward the hum of the light above the door of the barracks. They went in and took up residence in the first room of the corridor. Harold put the wine glasses and half-empty bottle on the nightstand and carefully laid Jane down on the bed. He looked back at her as he was halfway through the door.

“I’ll turn the lights off and feel my way back, hang tight.”

Jane let out a barely audible sigh as Harold exited the room. As her mind drifted into a dreamscape her eyesight focused on the half empty wine bottle. A sudden rush ran through her, but she was already too far gone to hang on to it. She tried, but she only drifted further. She moaned “Har…look…” but it was in vain. The darkness began to close in from her peripheries. At the center of her focus was the surface of the wine in the bottle. It seemed to vibrate in slow motion and just barely creeped up the side of the bottle toward her. She tried to hold on as she slipped from consciousness. The movement quickened and became more regular. It was a pattern, it was the pattern! The wine came to life and was pushing the bottle closer to the edge in sequence with the crashing of the waves outside. Just as it was about to fall over the edge everything went still as Harold shouted something from the other room and everything went black. Jane had a great sense of falling as the darkness consumed her.

Next installment: Dreams