“Actually, not badly. I think he understands that there are more of us and that we’re trying to make contact. The problem with your plan is that if we go out onto a beach with a thousand bathers, we can jump up and down all we like, but we’re not going to stand out very much. Especially since they’re all bigger than we are. And Wally doesn’t even know where to look for us.” He turned and nodded at Arin, who smiled, reached over, said something, and got to his feet.

Hutch watched him walk away. There were a couple other islanders who’d been waiting nearby. They exchanged gestures with Arin that involved tapping their skulls. Then they proceeded out through the trees onto the beach. They walked across the sand, stopping to talk to others, and as she watched the movement expanded. They were spreading out, explaining something, sharing information, and gradually everyone began coming back toward the trees.

“What’s going on?” asked Hutch.

“How much time do we have?” asked Derek. “Before Wally gets back?”

“I’d guess about fifteen minutes.”

“Then let’s go.”

They all went back out onto the sand. As they watched, the area cleared. Those who were in the surf stayed there. Everyone else, except for a few, was moving away from the center of the beach, leaving it for their visitors.

“Incredible,” said Hutch. “They’re doing this for us?”

“Thank Arin.”

She’d lost track of him. They formed a line, hand in hand, facing the ocean. One of the islanders hurried over to them and gave each of them a towel.

The sun was moving into the western sky. Most of the clouds that had been present earlier were gone. Derek was peering into the east. “Should have brought sunglasses,” he said. “You guys see anything?”

“I doubt we’ll be able to see it,” Hutch said. “Not in the daylight anyhow. We wouldn’t have any problem picking it up tonight.”

“That would work fine if we could shine some lights at it.”

Hutch began waving her towel. Please, Wally, she thought, be there.

21.

Alone, alone, all all alone,

Alone on a wide, wide sea!

And never a saint took pity on

My soul in agony.

—Samuel Taylor Coleridge, “Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” 1798

They stayed with it, waving towels and occasionally yelling at the empty sky until finally they were exhausted and overheated. The ocean by then looked extraordinarily inviting and Hutch might have considered going for a swim, except that she had nothing to change into.

There was no sign of the Eiferman. “But he would probably have stayed with the original course,” she said. “So, if he was scoping the islands, he might have seen us.”

“You don’t sound optimistic,” said Beth.

“I’d feel more confident if he’d been there when we went down.”