REPORTER: Well, Jim, I think I mentioned that this yacht has a helicopter landing pad. They’ve been bringing people back and forth all week. Earlier today, the popular rock band Fashion X was flown in to perform. You can hear them in the ballroom behind me. I think that’s their big hit, “Coming Down.”

ANCHOR: Wow. That’s impressive.

REPORTER: It is. And once they are finished, there’s—

(Loud noise. The image shakes.)

ANCHOR: Valerie, what was that?

REPORTER: I don’t know! Hold on—

(Another loud noise. She falls.)

REPORTER: Oh my god! . . . Does anybody know what that—

ANCHOR: Valerie?

REPORTER: Something just hit . . . (static) . . . sounded . . . (static) . . . see where . . .

(Another loud noise, then the picture is lost.)

ANCHOR: Valerie? Valerie, can you still hear us? . . . Valerie? . . . We seem to have lost the connection. There was a loud noise, several, as you heard. We don’t want to speculate. But for the moment, we are unable to . . . Hello? . . . Valerie? . . . Are you there? . . .

Land

When his jeep reached the lookout point, LeFleur killed the engine. He had requested the area be marked off by the local authorities, and was relieved to see yellow tape by the walking path.

“All right,” LeFleur said to Rom. “Let’s see what you found.”

They stepped over the tape and started down the path. Marguerita Bay was a stretch of rocky green hills that dropped off in craggy white walls, framing the shore and the narrow, sandy beach. There were several ways to get down, but not in a car. You went by foot.

As they reached the flat ground and approached the discovery site, Rom slowed his pace, leaving LeFleur to draw near on his own. He felt the sand give way to his work shoes. A few more steps around a low rock formation and . . .

There it was: a large, half-inflated, dirty orange raft, drying in the midday sun.

LeFleur felt a shiver. Wreckage of any vessel—ships, boats, rafts, yachts—meant another losing battle between man and sea. There were stories in their remains. Ghost stories. LeFleur had enough of those in his life already.

He leaned in to examine the raft’s edges. Gashes had deflated the lower tubing. Sharks could have done that. The canopy had been ripped away, leaving only frayed pieces where it once attached to the frame. The faded words CAPACITY 15 PERSONS were etched on the orange skin. The inner floor was wide, maybe fourteen feet by sixteen feet. Sand and seaweed filled it now. Tiny crabs moved about the tangle.

LeFleur followed one crab as it moved past the etched words PROPERTY OF THE GALAXY and up to what appeared to be a sealed pouch along the front edge. A small lump was pushing the pouch outward. He touched the raft skin then pulled his hand back.

There was something inside.