The boat lay at anchor??? as still as if it had been welded to
the surface of the sea. Normally??? this far out??? there would
be long??? roiling ground swells-offspring of far-distant
storms-that would cause the boat to rise and fall??? the hori-
zon constantly to change. But??? for more than a week??? a
high-pressure system had squatted over the Adantic from
Haiti to Bermuda. The sky was empty even of fair-
weather clouds??? and the reflection of the midday sun made
the water look as solid as polished steel.
To the east??? a splinter of gray hung??? shimmering??? sus-
pended a millimeter above the edge of the world: the
refracted image of a small island }ust beyond the horizon.
To the west??? nothing but waves of heat rising??? dancing.
Two men stood in the stern??? fishing with monofila-
ment hand lines. They wore ragged shorts??? filthy white T-
shirts??? and wide-brimmed straw hats. Now and then??? one
or the other would dip a bucket off the stern and pour
water on the deck??? to cool the Fiberglas beneath their bare
feet. Between them??? over the socket where the fighting
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