Page 19 of Leveling

Beckett laughed, his low deep laugh. “Apparently not what was important.”

They stepped together for the next fold. Beckett liked folding tarps with Luna, she mirrored him easily and sometimes their hands accidentally touched, briefly, if he was lucky.

Then he said, “I just felt like it was my purpose, like I had always been fascinated by the Nomadic Water Dwellers, had always wondered what their lives were like, and then this volunteer opportunity came along. I thought it was what I was meant to do.”

“Do you still feel like that?” Luna stepped up to Beckett with the last eighth of the last fold of the last tarp and Beckett rolled it and lashed it with cord.

“No, now I’m not sure why I came.”

Luna held out a strawberry. His hands were full, so he opened his mouth, and she popped it in.

“Thanks.” Drips of strawberry juice ran down his chin.

“Who will run the lights on the building when you’re gone?”

“I can automate the signal but can only count on it working consistently for a few months. At some point someone will need to come back and check it. The big ships have GPS, so there’s no worry they’ll run into the Outpost, but the concern is the small boats and the Nomads, or, um...Waterfolk.”

Luna spun a heart-shaped strawberry in her fingers, watching it as it turned. “I had no idea how much thought and concern went into saving our lives.”

“Sure, people out on the open seas—the waters rising—it concerns us.”

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