“Don"t drink the water.”
Janine looked back, startled.
A man stood a few paces behind her, towering over her.
Kneeling at the end of the dock, nothing between her and the poisonous Nartressan sea, Janine felt a moment of vulnerability. A slight nudge would send her to her death. She couldn"t see his face. The night fading, a blue glow to the east, only a few seaside cottage lights illuminated him from the side. “I know,” she replied, standing, “I"m a biologist.”
A dark prominent brow dominated the face, the eyes sunk too far into their sockets. The skin was white from too little sun, the hair black as though dyed. He was clean shaven, dressed in a spare formall that seemed too insubstantial to protect against the chill blowing off the bay, a small maritime insignia at the left breast.
