I felt the first drops of rain on my head, and before long the dappled sunlight had transformed into a haze of cold and tiny droplets falling indifferently from the sky. Jerry squinted up at the source of the precipitation and apparently deemed it appropriately threatening to his smouldering tobaco; he turned his pipe upsidedown in his mouth and continued smoking. How the contents were constrained from falling out, I was not ready to venture a guess.

My aunt had evaluated me ready to return to work. She had given Jerry and I an assignment to assist with maping out a series of caves that had been discovered on North Jacksonville Island. We were to leave as soon as was reasonable. I had posessions to collect back in Atkins before I would be able to set out upon the ocean, and of course the rail carriage was running late.

We were approached by a man in military dress, with a sloping forehead and serious eyebrows. He appeared unhindered by the rain, as if he had not yet taken time to notice the inconvenience and discomfort that it presented.

“Jerry Siege?” he asked, his manner making it clear that he knew exactly whom he was addressing.

Jerry scowled a moment, but answered plainly, “I am.” He took another draw from his pipe.

“I’m Lieutennant Commander Orwitz,” he stated, professionally, “I have a writ of cooperation through the Guld of Cartographers for your assistance.”

My mind was of course immediately filled with questions – what kind of heavy and boorish task could the navy possibly have that it would ask for help from a man like Jerry Siege.

If Jerry wondered the same thing, however, his curiosity didn’t show. He jerked his thumb in my direction and stated, expressionless, “He comes with.”