Nick set is pack down against the stones and then stretched. The sun hung heavy in the west. "It's good to get into the woods once a month, whether I need it or not." The young man chuckled at his humor, since there was no one else around, he hoped, for tens of miles. He sat on the stones and watched the sun set, he should have been setting up camp, but instead he simply sat and waited. Nature would take its course soon enough.

The world was so small, especially when viewed from a distance greater than twice the moon's orbit, a distance that was increasing every second. Nick tore his gaze away from the cradle of his species and continued to pull himself along the hull of the _Dancing Sprite._ Bound for Titan, one of Jupiter's moons, a nagging power relay problem had cropped up and it had been, predictably, isolated to a section that was only accessible externally. Nick could think of hundreds of other things he'd rather be doing on a Saturday night, but here he was in space suit spidering along the bulk of the _Sprite's_ hull. "That's why I get paid the big bucks," he mumbled to himself.

It was an almost perfect day, sunny but not too hot and a few clouds dappled the sky. The sea was warm, and under other circumstances Nick would have been in paradise. He eyed the incoming wave and timed his jump to keep his head above the water, but he misjudged the distance. The chain around his ankle went taut and the surge overtook him.

Nick tossed and turned in his bed, he wanted to run from the noise but he couldn't, it pervaded his dream. The wailing, it was an unearthly caterwaul - it was familiar. His eyes snapped open in the darkness and he flung the covers from his bed with a great sweep of his arm. The banshee wail from his dream was really two storm sirens going off in unison, shifting in and out of harmony as they blared their warning.

"Here," the old man insisted as he pressed a coin into Nic's hand. "I've got two, the devil only takes one, lucky for you."

Nic looked down at the silver coin in his hand. "I, I don't understand."

The weathered man grunted and softly smiled. "Course you don't. You're no older than one of my sons, pity." He paused and glanced back towards the water, a dark form was emerging from the mist. A tall, thin figure cloaked in a dark robe poled a long skiff towards the bank. "He's here. Remember, just give him that coin, and don't make a fuss."

The day was warm, but dark clouds brooded overhead. A strong breeze from the east tousled Nick's brown hair. Eyes on the letter he held, he subconsciously brushed at his hair with his free hand. He laughed out loud, a bright smile splitting his face in a wide grin as he looked up at the cloudy sky. The first drops of rain spattered his face, but his smile never wavered. Nick quickly folded the letter, slid it down his shirt, and began the mad dash back towards his car.

Nick scratched at the paper with the pen. He had stopped writing words a page ago, and he had stopped bothering to even shape letters with the last paragraph. The paper was only a smear of white in front of him, but he knew he had to keep writing. Then the weight of the pen disappeared from his hand. Nick looked up, a tall and thin shadow loomed over him.

The shadow tsked and fuzzy words cut through his fugue. "That simply won't do, Nick." He must have mumbled something, because the figure sighed and responded. "How can a simple statement drain your soul? Preposterous! The position demands we know everything about you."