The waves didn’t break upon the shore. Indeed, the island seemed to be lifted and propelled along by the rollers. Gim planted his feet as far apart as possible, side on to the tide. “This foot’s rising, only slightly, but… And there, it’s under me….. And now this foot. The whole island moves as the wave goes by.”

“That’s a relief. There’s only a small rise above sea level, I thought we were going to flood at high tide.” Sheel ran a hand through the green slime that passed for soil, studied the substance, then shook it off. “Where’s Bobb?”

“He went to the North shore, thought he’d seen something to build with.”

Bobb returned some time later. The setting sun cast a long shadow. “I thought you said he had gone North?”

“He did.”

“So why’s he coming back from the West?”

“Could have done a part circuit.”

“Or our island’s rotating in the current.”

Bobb set down a sack. “There was a camp of some sort back there. I think I have enough stuff to make a solar still. What have you found out?”

Gim took the sack and emptied it. He started sorting through the contents. “Our island’s not very solidly planted.”

“Did you notice the way it moved with the waves?” Sheel asked.

“Yeah. It’s more pronounced toward the edges.”

“Well, I started scooping away at the surface, think it’s algae of some sort. I found a way through the roots of that,” she pointed at the island’s one and only tree, centrally located, “and got so deep,” halfway up her upper arm, “before breaking through to water.”

Gim had assembled a frame for the solar still from the remnants of a parasol. He had shaped the wires to rest on the edge of a large basin, so the vapour rising from a cup of salt water in the middle could condense and run down purified. “There was some rope in that sack. If one of us ties it around our waist we can go over the edge and explore what is under our island.” He had found a smaller cup and was using this to bring water up from Sheel’s hole. It was thick with algae, and there was the occasional tiny fish. Gim strained it through the canvas of the sack before feeding the still. “In the morning, I think.”

Heavensent 1.7
Heavensent 1.5
Heavensent 1.1

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