On route to island. Rain. Heights. Not a fan. Pilot assures. I've doubts. Between turbulence and timing of everything, I can’t quiet my mind. Only rays through the clouds help.

Nothing makes sense. The board. Investors. Urgency. The why. And me? An archivist.

I fear mistakes were made. But I also fear correcting them. Their kind has no humanity. If there’s to be any, it must come from me.

I don’t know what to write. I haven’t the habit. Let’s hope no one reads this.

It'll do. The smell reminds of home. Cold in the shade. Wet underfoot. Quiet. Fog.

Not a welcoming place. Not unwelcoming. Indifferent.

My pen's scratch feels too loud.

I'll write Nathan. He could be comfortable. He knows things I don't.

N So they've found a location.

R Yes. They're very eager. God knows why.

N *laughs* "God." Where?

R I can't say.

N When?

R I can't say. Soon.

N ...You want me there.

R Yes.

N Why.

R You know why.

N ...I want to see it.

He accepted. With conditions. God has mercy.

Denice/Dennis,

I'll be going away soon, and I won't be returning. I can't give details, but it's in connection with a mutual friend you know very well. He practically begged me. I should be comfortable and want for little—other than, perhaps, a companion? Think about it. You know who to reach. I hope our letters can continue, either way.

You've always been dear to me. But you know that.

See you (or not) on the other side.

Nathaniel

P.S. You may keep it. I won't be needing it.

Dear REDACTED ,

You shall no longer see or hear from me.

Do not write. Do not call. It won't work.

Rejoice.

Goodbye,

Nate

P.S. Say hi/bye to Kate for me.

Dear Ms. Denice, Mr. Dennis,

I bear news. I'm taking Nathan. I'm sorry. But his offer is also yours. I know you aren't him. You never will be. But even you have needs.

Write.

Yours,

Remington

See you in hell.

N,

I've secured space for you. And D, if they wish it. A start. More to come. Things will take time. But you'll have full access—and my confidence. And the staff's. I've secured a library, lab, quarters, recreation. I needn't detail the limitations. You know them. But contact with the outside is guaranteed. Personally. Otherwise it'd be for naught.

Come when you can. Send word before. There are processes. I'm sorry to subject you to them.

~R

On my way.

~N

My first day was daunting. Protocols, security, non-disclosures, scans, shots, examinations, swearings-in, tours (not much), safety, signings, readings, reciting. Thank heaven for flasks. D wouldn't like it here—at least not yet. I pity Rem, yet I've confidence in him—and, dare I say, a smidge of envy. To stand above a board of so many pieces and be the hand that moves them. Although his hand shake, move them, if reluctantly, he does.

He'll grow into it. That's why I'm here. Oh, Nathaniel, what have you gotten yourself into. But if I've made a mistake, so has, exponentially, he. May he find a kind of peace.

I've thought about our next guest. I have someone in mind, although she won't come cheap. Thankfully that shouldn't be an issue. I'll write tomorrow.

I best check on the movers. I'd like to start work at once.

Sam. How goes your work? An intern is probably reading this; if so, congratulations. She doesn't choose lightly. You must be trusted.

Please forward my regards to the good doctor. But if she can spare but a few minutes, she knows my number. It's important. At least to me—or to someone we know. Tell her he promises resources. Not the full brigade of her offices, but richer.

Have I got her attention? I've invested my own enterprises in this; I suggest she consider the same. There is ground to be laid.

We need her utensil.

~N

P.S. Enjoy the enclosed.

Everything's boxed. So much dust. It kills the sanctity. My whole life writ on a packing list. An army of cardboard. Packed as freight. I half expect it to sink.

All my work shuttered and sealed. The labels a headstone. It seemed so much bigger alive.

But I am to be a new keeper. A keeper of the damned. Maybe D is right, and this is a hell. Its warden fallen from grace.

Met with the board. Crews this week. Money exchanges. Expense reports. Everyone optimistic. Few worry. Unsettles. Undue praise. What did I do? It all sits a bit ill.

They seem taken with Nathan. A relief. Seems he's recruiting. Saves them work. Should pay him. Then they heard about Sam. Less taken. Then D. Crickets. I assured he knows what he's doing.

Investments increase. God knows why. I'm to take an assistant. The thought exhausts me. Asked Karen to see to it.

Security arrives next. Yoland. Promoted. Good. Makes me feel safer.

I'm also to have a lead. A surprise. Assumed suits would use their own. But board wants in-house. An "active effort." Dedicated staff. More hiring. I thought myself a zookeeper. I fear I'm now headmaster. Academy of dark arts.

But who the subjects, and who the students.

Father tells me he has a position for me. Something about an institute. He won't really share details. But I fly out this Thursday. I know it's a bit sudden, but he says it's once-in-a-lifetime, with little time to consider. At this point, I haven't much to lose, so I'm sorry I'll miss the birthday party, but perhaps I'll come back as better company.

Wish me the best—and see you again soon (hopefully not too soon).

Kisses,

V

R—

Don't scare this one away. She's Don's daughter.

New assistant. Evelyn. I pity her. She knows nothing. Like me once. Is that self-pity? Regardless. I chose this. This chose her. Which is worse?

New assistant. Evelyn. I pity her. She knows nothing. Like me once. Is that self-pity? Regardless. I chose this. This chose her. Which is worse.

Fresh week. Yolan here. Reaquainted. Onboarded. Showed round. Said he'd take it from here. A relief. I'ven't the stomach for it. As leaving, gave me a gun. Said to keep on me. Didn't know what to say.

I finally met Mr. Locksfield. He seems a nice man, although rather nervous. And distracted. He didn't seem to know what to do with me, as if I'd been foisted upon him, but he was still warm enough. He seems under a lot of stress. I offered to do anything I can to help. He told me to keep my eyes open. Above all, keep my eyes open. Because his were getting tired, and they can't—not around here. He looked at me with sad eyes before handing me a pistol. He was apologetic, as if bestowing a curse. Not a moment goes by I can't feel its weight in my bag.

N Dr. Graham speaking.

S Oh drop the facade. What do you want, Nathan, besides to flatter aides to get your way.

N Good doctor, I only wished you to write.

S Now you needn't. Speak.

N It's Rem.

S And?

N He's in over his head and could use your services. For pay, of course. And a chance on the ground floor of something.

S My work is the ground floor. And I have a lot of it. Or have you forgotten?

N Not like this. Here, that work would become your aides'. Our net is much wider.

S What about my labs.

N We'd have them moved. Mine were.

S Ours aren't the same.

N I know that, doctor. I know. Still... You have no idea the money behind this. Yoland commands now—an army, at that. Rem's taken an assistant. My life in REDACTED  is over. I reside here now. The stakes have risen so much, Rem hit the panic button, and I answered. I'm hoping you'll do the same. Not just for him but also for yourself. So much good could be done here, but only in the right hands like yours. And mine. I can only do so much. We need a scientist.

...

S Where is it.

N I can't say. And, frankly, don't know. But it's cool. Mostly trees and fog. An island somewhere.

S What is the subject?

N Your kind. Mine. Every kind.

S You mean—

N Yes.

S How?

N Powerful people are looking for answers. Not research—answers. Like yours. But for everything.

...

S Show me.

The fog never seems to lift. There's no wind. The trees never move. I've yet to see the sun—just clouds. I see waves but don't hear them. I've yet to see an insect. Hear a bird. Even a squirrel. It's as if life abandoned this place. But you wouldn't notice from all the green.

The silence deafens. My men jump. I'll look one way, turn around, and see the same. Direction is meaningless. I look to the clouds for landmarks.

It feels like frost. But I see none. Nostrils sting. But our breath's invisible. I'm both warm and cool, and at ease and on edge, and afraid and comforted. This place feels alien...yet home.

I hate it. I belong here.

I saw Yoland staring today. I asked him the matter. He looked through me, and then saw me. He noticed it before I could remember it. He showed me how to hold it, fire, reload. I was a bit shaken, but he seemed pleased. Seemed so tired.

So many pieces have come to our board. Whatever happens, I feel responsible. I only wish—yet fear—our success. Some things are best wondered. Knowledge is a gateway—and yet gates protect us. If we pass through, we can't forget what we see. Neither can the seen.

I met with Yolan. My access is to be limited, as expected, but barely, which should prove uncommon. I've reign of the full island, inside and out, except classified and secured wings. Despite my employment, I am not staff. So much the better. So relaxed a presence could brew fear or discomfort. I only desire confidence.

My stay so far, despite my luxuries and access, is a lonely one. I spoke with Rem about an assistant; he said I could use his, a Ms. Evelyn Turner. He seemed unconcerned. She does not know of me—or, I'm told, anything—so I'm reluctant to mar that perfection, for I envy it. But R already notified her, and we are to meet this afternoon. I feel I should introduce with full disclosure. How else can someone trust?

Something moves in the trees. No life, yet something moves. It's large. My men watch for it, see moving leaves, trees, fog...but see nothing. They hear breathing but see no breather. We don't engage—I see no reason. It keeps my men alert. I reported it to Rem, but he seemed unsurprised—unconcerned. For now, we'll continue to watch.

Sam comes. Always intimidated. Leave her to Nathan. This island's awake. Quiet, but awake. It listens, but does not move. It haunts. Calms. Comfortably uncomfortable. Like a monstrous friend.

For peace, I look to the waves. They crash yet never fold. Always coming in to see me—never going out. Stark winds clean my worries, leave me anew. Can't see beyond the fog—and one shouldn't try. They say no man is an island, yet I've never felt more like this place. It is me. To shun. To embrace. To know it is to know myself. Perhaps it found me.

These mists enfold me.

I was to meet with Dr. Graham. Is he a doctor? I doesn't matter. I came 'round around two. He had tea, asked me to sit, introduced himself, made sure I was comfortable. All pleasant enough. Then he asked me to trust him, because he was to trust me. I felt unsure but flattered. Of course I would. He told me not to be frightened. That frightened me, of course. But he remained calm, pleasant. He said his appearance might alarm, but that I deserved to know who—or what—I was engaging.

Movement continues. Only at night. The whisp of leaves. The crack of branch. My men report prints but can't make them out. We've stopped using lights—we let our eyes adjust. One can see so much more when not shining on things. By now, we're accustomed to our phantom. It leaves, returns, disappears, lingers, looms... We named it "Dog." We left meat out; it disappeared. Now shifts are only in pairs.

I met the true Dr. Graham. He said to call him Nathan. I don't think I can. I haven't slept. Perhaps that's good. I'm beginning to think Father didn't tell me enough. I speak with Mr. Locksfield tomorrow.

Dr. Well,

I write from transit, aboard a carrier. I should arrive in a week. I've attached a list of my requirements. All details can be found therein. I expect all to be ready upon arrival. I'll need to quarantine, of course, at least two days, during which you and your staff can process me. I'll begin at once. Have a subject ready. Otherwise, my time will be spent on personal affairs.

Included is documentation on my self. Such information has never been shared. Consider it a gift to our investors, to loosen their wallets. I understand their pockets run deep.

I'm told you've an assistant for me, to be shared with Dr. Graham. Good. If she is to be of any use to either of us, she'll need both of us. I pray Nathaniel has not already fouled her. I need her composed.

I appreciate the opportunity to collaborate. Don't waste it. If I hear right, we could do good things.

Always a pleasure,

Sam