"We have two choices, it seems to me," Tristan said. "We either walk round, or I build a raft and sail across."She looked at him. "Which do you think ...ill be quicker?" I really don't know. There is no way of knowing without having an idea as to how big it is." He checked the computer. He had estimated their unit of distance was just under a mile. "We are three-hundred and fifty miles from the beacon so assuming thirty miles a day then twelve days sailing maximum." He spoke half to. Damn! It doesn’t tell me a thing! She took another long swig of coffee before attacking the second envelope. It like the first, had no distinguishing marks, but the PO Box was different. She opened the letter. Damn! Another fucking invoice! $3456! What are all these fees for? This time it was a different, but still in the Caymans. Hoping for a better result she picked up the last envelope and this time she opened it in a more restrained way. Slowly she unfolded the sheet of paper which this. More

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