Jane walked towards the horizon with her eyes fixated on the vanishing point until she was waist deep in the sea. She let her hands drop and swirled them back and forth in the water around her. The coldness in her palms sent rejuvenation up her arms and woke her mind. She looked out just above the horizon, trying to imagine the source of the pattern when something caught her eye. It was slight at first but became more distinct – just a tiny streak of darkness hidden behind the gray haze. She walked towards it until she was submerged up to her chest. The pressure of the water felt like a familiar embrace, she let her feet sink into the sand to anchor her as she gave way to the water. She took comfort in the soft cradling of the waves as they slowly rocked her body. She closed her eyes and let her consciousness merge with the pattern of the waves. She had almost entered a trance when she had heard Harold cry from shore, “Jane!”. Her eyes remained closed until the second or third call for her. When she opened her eyes, the light accelerated her awakening. Once her vision adjusted she could make out the beginnings of a storm cell on the horizon, the waves were almost up over her chest. She turned to shore halfway through the forth call for her, which Harold cut short at seeing her move. She pulled her anchored feet from the sand, stepped up, and felt a void as she towered over the water that once held her.

“Were you waiting for the tide to cover you completely? A storm is coming, I don’t know how this side of the island stands up to them. I almost have a radio working. We need to get ready for when that thing hits us.”

Jane looked up at him as she took an offered towel and then looked past him at the compound, “These buildings seem to have weathered every other storm just fine; they’re still standing.”

“Well, you’re not the one who gets to come out here and keep them in repair. Ask Bruce how they hold up. We need to lock everything down before nightfall. I’ve almost got the radio working. I need to call Bruce.”

“There’s time, Harold. There’s time. We won’t see that storm until tomorrow afternoon. Go fix your radio, I’ll make provisions.” Jane spoke with an endearing smile that arguably had mind control over Harold. She punctuated her statement with a slight smile and then ran her hand down his arm as she walked by him and up towards their new living quarters. Harold smiled only to himself, but she could feel it. His anxiety over the moment melted as he watched her walk towards the compound with ease. As the hampered anxiety slowly returned he looked out at the dark cloud formation taking shape over the horizon. He thought of the radio; with a sense of purpose the vibrations of anxiety steeled his chest.

Jane stood at the doorway, looking out at the sight of all her equipment spread out around the truck. She could feel in her heart that the storm would not make landfall until tomorrow, but she still didn’t want to take the chance of anything getting rained on. She figured the books were the most valuable things in her catalog and moved them inside first. She was in no rush, she knew she would have several days inside to put everything in its place. Everything was left unpacked in the impromptu lab she had set up down the hallway from their living quarters. In her silent, diligent work she thought of the waves; she could feel the phantom push and pull of the sea on her legs and waist. She had an overwhelming feeling that this was the beginning of something new; that something was culminating and that she played a major role in it. She could not decide if it was a good or a bad thing, so she dismissed the idea of it being anything other than good. She knew it involved purpose. Purpose, whether it was going to end up good or bad, tapped into her ancestral need to be swept away by the spiritual currents of the universe. It was a feeling of destiny and it felt right.

Meanwhile, Harold tinkered away at the small radio in the physical realm. The large tower was far from being in repair, but he had found a smaller radio set up for communication between posts on the island. He was under a work station, sweating and swearing as he tried to manipulate the components through sweaty hands. He shook his head at the sting of sweat in his eyes, then sat back and looked at the radio. He was frustrated and had to calm down if it was ever going to work. Under the desk was ridiculous, in a flash of rage he pushed all the clutter off the desk and laid the radio down on the fresh canvas where it was in the light. With a clear mind his hands went to work as his thoughts went to Bruce. He had hoped he was near a work station and not hanging in a harness in a radio tower. He wanted to establish contact before the storm hit. As his mind drifted his hands went to work on their own. His fingers pinched and pulled at wires along with the rhythm of his thoughts. The sensation of touch and pressure being signaled to his brain seemed as if they were manipulating his mind. He entered a trance; his thoughts moved with the same calm push and pull of waves. He felt comfort and stopped sweating – his frustrations dissipated with each pull. His hands worked automatically. When they stopped moving he snapped out of his trance from the lack of signals firing off his fingertips. He felt the trance pull back on his thoughts as it disappeared, but it didn’t leave a void; it felt like the surf as it pulls back to gather strength for a bigger wave. The idea of this mental wave looming over him stayed with him, watching from the shadows of his mind.

Harold plugged in the radio and was greeted with static. It was a start, he thought; at least the thing didn’t mock him with silence. He connected the cable that led to a small antenna outside the window and went to work on the dials. He found what he knew was the channel that Bruce would have access to for inter-island communication and began making contact:

“Bruce, you there? It’s Harold.” He was answered by static. “Bruce. Come in, it’s Harold.”

Harold looked out at the ocean as he waited for a response, but all he heard was static. He realized he hadn’t looked out at from the station since he found it and took this time to situate himself.  It was just far enough down the bend of the beach that he couldn’t see the rest of the compound where he and Jane set up their living quarters. He didn’t like that he couldn’t keep watch over her, but he knew that he would be able to isolate himself with his future work if she was out of sight. But still, with her out of sight he wondered what she might be up to, whether she was manic about her work of if she was going about it in her usual methodic way. He wanted her to make progress with this new task on this side of the island, but he didn’t want her to get consumed by it. He didn’t want to lose her to it.

He tried the radio again – more static. He repeated the same lines over and over until his thoughts of Jane overwhelmed him and he had to leave the project behind. He was confident that the radio worked, he just had to try it at the right time; it was getting late in the day and Bruce may not be anywhere near a radio. He decided to go join Jane for a while and would try again before dark, or sooner, if the storm got too close and narrowed his window of communication. He reached for the dial but pulled back and left the radio on. As he walked out of the station the sound of static slowly faded behind him.

“You’ve made some progress.”

Jane started and dropped a box to the floor. She spun around, “There’s no need to sneak up on me. I was about 20 layers deep in thought and you snatched me right out of it.”

“I didn’t mean to startle you – just wanted to see what you were up to.”

“Well, I think I’ve done all I can do for one day. It’s all inside at least. If it’s a long storm, we’ll have plenty to keep us busy inside. No point in doing it all today. How is the radio coming along?”

“Its working on our end, but no response yet. Bruce probably isn’t near it. I figured I would take a break and get back to it later, he’s been obsessed with them lately. He won’t stay away for long.”

The two decided to take leisure on the beach before the storm ruined any chance of it. Their minds matched the calm weather and they talked little of their work or the signal. They enjoyed the beach as if it was their own private estate. They were refreshed by the waves and the sea – for once it didn’t feel mechanical. They stayed out until the sky turned orange and the air took a chill. In twilight they parted; Jane to fortifying the compound by shuttering windows and securing anything that might get thrown around by wind, and Harold back to his radio. Evening had completely set in when Jane made her way to the radio tower.

She looked around at a control room that looked as if it had never missed a day of service.

“Impressive, If I knew you caught a fever to clean I would have set you to work in our little compound all day.”

“Just keeping busy until I get a reply. I don’t know why Bruce hasn’t answered yet, I’ve tried every channel. Someone must have heard me in that lab.”

“This is the first time in a long time that you’ve been away from the lab. They’re all probably taking advantage of a free day without the boss. Anyway, it’s late, no one would be there now, not even Bruce. Why don’t you take that radio to our room, that way you won’t miss a thing should Bruce should decide to call.”

Harold hadn’t thought of this solution. “You’re right, that would be better anyway. There won’t be any need for the handset up here once that tower is up and running.”

“Yes, and I’ll get my Harold back. Let’s go. It’s time to eat and drink.” She extended a glass of wine that was out of Harold’s sight until now. He let out a single laugh and smile as he accepted her offer. The two stepped out and took comfort in the cool breeze that came off the waves. They walked side by side toward the welcoming glow of the compound where Jane had a warm meal waiting. As soon as they entered, the smell of food transformed the room from part of a sterile compound to a home. They ate and drank in the joy of each other’s presence until sleep consumed them.