He was falling too fast to risk landing on the shore. He might survive the fall if he could hit the water and miss the black rocks. It all looked black from his vantage. The water was rising under him quickly and he sucked in a deep breath.
The tide was high. It was a mixed blessing. A high tide covered the some of the rocks, but a falling tide could sweep Adam into the sea.
He didn’t waste time calculating, but swam with all the energy he could muster. On the dark beach, Adam forced his shivering hands to explore his pockets. I must write down all I can remember. He found a leather-bound notebook, it pages sopping, a dull stub of pencil, and a heavy pair of eyeglasses. “Thank God,” he sighed.
2
THE VISIT TO MEDAMA LABS
Bernard Kezatz could enjoy the good fortune of others, especially a friend. He could still remember many dinners with the Medamas where they bragged on little Adam and his good marks in school.
Little Adam was Dr. Medama now. His plant, modestly called a lab, sat by a rail spur lined with dingier manufactories and warehouses. Kezatz had been out here a lot in his days as a beat cop and detective. Theft from the factories had been common during the war, when resources were scarce. Now things were more prosperous, and Medama was part of the reason. He scratched together a little money of his own and a lot of investor to buy a maker of telegraph and telephone equipment that was nearly done in by wartime shortages. He made production more efficient and put in a line of high-end optics that turned things around.
Whole Grain Serial 