2 July, 1937 CE

Pacific Ocean

This was like no cloud cover, fog or mist she’d ever flown through before. The needles of every gauge juttered, never settling in on a reading. She wondered how low they really were, wondered if the rush across her belly was a mirror response to the belly of the plane. It had happened before . . . the two bodies riveted together out of aluminum and human skin.

1949-1953 CE

Somewhere on the Coast of Eritrea

The little dog growled softly, backing away from the tracks. “Stick close to me,” Asmeret cautioned her, “I won’t let it get you.”

Asmeret squatted, laying her palm flat and spreading her fingers wide, trying to fill the print. The girl glanced around and sniffed at the air. The stink of the animal lingered. It was nearby.

Muck-North

They lay askew there in the muck—a stillness so complete you would think them dead. Silt billows up in dark, languid puffs. The body has settled on its back, not quite flat. Arms splayed, outstretched, palms to the sky; back arched, as are the feet, curling into the seabed as if grasping for purchase.