Vivian had spent years dreaming of what island life would be like. No one bothered to mention the typhoons. Or the monsoons. Or the mosquitoes.

"Dammit, go away!" she grumbled as she crushed the bloodsucker on her arm. It seemed like each time she killed one, ten more would arrive to take its place.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when she felt her skin prickle on her shoulder. She glanced over to find yet another mosquito.

"Get off me, you vampire!" she yelled and smacked at it. After a couple of seconds, she raised her hand to inspect the damage. All that remained was a bloody smear.

This is just pathetic, she thought as she wiped her hand on her pants. I haven't even been on Diego Garcia for 24 hours, and I'm already sick of it.

Vivian's older brother Christian worked as a contractor for the military, and he was always on the lookout for opportunities to work overseas. The chance finally came two months ago when he received a call asking if he would be interested in working on an island base in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Chris accepted, of course. That came as no surprise to her. What did surprise her, though, was when he asked if they needed any medical staff for the civilian workers and suggested Vivian as a possible candidate. She was working as an elementary school nurse at the time, and was perfectly comfortable in her current position. Why he bothered to recommend her was beyond her comprehension. When she asked him about it, he said, "Sis, you haven't set foot out of Georgia since you popped out of Mom. Don't you want to see what the rest of the world looks like?"

"Sure I do!" she told him. "I'm just waiting for when I have time."

That was when he took her hand, looked her in the eye, and said, "Viv, you're never going to have time. You have to make time."

Chris left a week later, but his words lingered in her mind long afterwards. He had a point, a rare event for someone whose idea of fun was to knock down a wasp nest with a baseball bat. She spent the next month at the school pulling out splinters and patching up scraped knees on some of the more rambunctious youngsters.

Then, about two weeks ago, she was woken up by a phone call from the same officer. Apparently the nurse who accepted the position on the island base had resigned due to medical reasons, ironically enough, and Vivian's name had been brought up as an immediate replacement.

Vivian promptly asked, "Did my brother put you up to this?"

The officer on the other end laughed and assured her that while Chris had in fact mentioned her, he had no final say in who would be considered for the position. Knowing that Chris would never let her live this down unless she tried, Vivian allowed herself to be submitted for a background check.

Three weeks and three interviews with imposing military aides later, Vivian found herself on a plane bound for Diego Garcia. Surrounded by soldiers and officials on all sides, she was clearly in the minority. She spent most of the trip sleeping, but when she was awake and bored, she occasionally caught snippets of conversations from her fellow passengers.

". . . haven't seen them since Mission City . . ."

"Everything you ever heard about 'em? All true."

". . . won't share their technology with us, but I can see why . . ."

"The big guy's nice, but I've seen what happens when you get on his bad side. Just watch him when he talks to Galloway. You'll see what I mean."

It was at that moment Vivian realized that she was mangling her flight magazine to shreds and crammed what was left of it back into the seat compartment.

When her plane finally touched down on the island, it was pitch-black dark and pouring buckets. By the time she made it down the stairs and onto the runway, her umbrella was so battered by the rain that it completely buckled under, drenching her in seconds. Chris was waiting for her with a bear hug and, thankfully, shared a large umbrella with a handsome young officer who introduced himself as Major Will Lennox. His warm brown eyes and youthful demeanor set her at ease, although the wedding band glistening on his ring finger left her somewhat crestfallen. They shook hands, grabbed her luggage, climbed into Lennox's Jeep, and drove off towards the civilians' living quarters.

"Is it always like this?" Vivian asked as she dried herself off with a blue beach towel. She wanted to be presentable, but given the circumstances, she probably looked about as pitiful as a wet cat.

"Nope," Chris said. "You just got here during the monsoon season. It's only like this for about three months out of the year."

"Oh joy," she muttered. "The one time I go anywhere and I end up in the worst possible weath—How did that get by regulations?!"

"That" was a large semi-truck parked by the runway. Lights from the airport flickered across the orange-red flames that streaked from grille to cab, catching her attention. The darkness rendered its blue body invisible otherwise.

Lennox snatched a glance to where she was pointing. "Oh, that's our commander -commander's truck."

"A bit flamboyant for the military, isn't it?"

"It's on loan to us. We're still unloading supplies and building materials, and we need something to help us ship them back and forth from the airport."

"Gotcha." Vivian started asking the usual questions about her quarters, what life would be like on Diego Garcia and so forth. Over the course of the ride, however, she noticed that Lennox would now and then take a short pause before he spoke, and his answers were deliberate but somewhat forced. It was obvious he was trying to plan out his words before saying them, but it was even more evident that he was treading around something. What it was, he never said, but she decided for his sake to ignore it for the time being.

Eventually the conversation died down to just intermittent muttering between Lennox and Chris. She strained to listen, but the rain pounding against the roof of the Jeep drowned them out. After a few minutes, she gave up and contented herself with sitting back and staring out the window at the gloomy scenery rushing by.

Not even the weather could disguise the monotonous flat landscape. According to the pamphlets and packets the aides provided for her, Diego Garcia, named after the Spanish explorer who discovered it, was once blanketed with thick impenetrable jungles. Once the French claimed it in the late eighteenth century, settlers started to cut them down in order to build coconut plantations, as well as leper colonies. Over the course of two centuries, the island fell under British jurisdiction, who then later on shared the land at the request of the United States. As the territory changed hands, more forests were cleared to make room for military facilities and airports on the western coast. Even now, she could see expansive patches of grass and sedges that had been meticulously mowed and maintained.

"How far are we from the actual base?" she asked, breaking the lull of silence.

Lennox perked up at the question. "Hm? Oh, the base? You just saw it. It's still under construction, though, so there's not much to see right now."

"No kidding! It looked almost finished!"

"That was just the airport. We've still got a long ways to go, but yeah, it's already pretty impressive."

"If that's what it looks like now, I can't wait to see how it looks after the construction's all done!"

Chris turned in his seat to look at her. "Actually, we won't," he said. "It's for military personnel only, so we won't be touring the place once it's fully up and running."

"Really?" Vivian asked, trying hard to mask her disappointment. "Well, that doesn't seem fair. You built it! Why shouldn't you get the chance to see it?"

"A lot of what we're dealing with right now is classified," Lennox explained, "so the fewer unenlisted who know about it, the better."

"Everyone has their secrets, I guess." Vivian slumped back in her seat. She was so eager to see what Chris had been working on all this time. Now she never would.

"Hey, cheer up back there, Miss Bennett," the major said with a smile. "You might get a chance to tour the base at some point, just not now. We need to work the kinks out first, you know? Maybe N.E.S.T. will make itself known to the world eventually, but right now, that's not in the works."

"Wait, what's N.E.S.T.?"

"Oh hey, we're here!"

Vivian was too busy listening to Lennox to notice that they had turned onto a paved gravel driveway. What the headlights unveiled at the end of it did not impress her.

"A trailer? I'm living in a trailer?"

"No, that's your station," Lennox said. "I know it doesn't look like much, but it's actually fairly spacious. Want to check it out?"

Vivian looked to Chris, who gave her a thumbs-up for encouragement. "Well, we're already here," she consented with a shrug. "Might as well."

The Jeep's tires crunched over the pebbles as it creaked to a stop. Lennox switched off the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Wait here; I'll come get you." He grabbed the umbrella stashed under his seat, swung open the door and hopped out. Within five seconds, his uniform was almost completely soaked through, appearing more black than army green now.

After spending a few moments struggling with the umbrella, which seemed to be just as obstinate as the major wrangling it into submission, Lennox finally managed to wrench it open. Vivian tried to disguise her giggle as a cough when he came around to fetch her. He gave no sign that he saw through the ruse, but that could have been a combination of his training and male pride coming into play.

Before she stepped out, she snatched up the towel and held it out to him. "Here, Major, before you catch pneumonia," she said without a hint of condescension. "I imagine you've braved many missions during your career, but braving the elements shouldn't be what brings you down."

Lennox smiled, erasing the staid solemn face of a soldier. "Thank you, ma'am, but I'm fine. This feels great, to be honest!" They huddled under the umbrella and marched towards the trailer. "It's been so hot and muggy that no one can get comfortable. You feel all sticky and your clothes cling to your skin. It's like your body can't sweat, you know what I mean? It wants to, but it can't."

"Sounds like summers back home. Don't worry. The rain should help cool things down a bit."

"If anything, it'll break up the humidity. I've been stationed out in the desert before, and yeah, it gets hot, but it's a dry heat. I can deal with that. But here, the humidity makes it godawful!"

The pair soon reached a small flight of metal stairs on the far right leading into the trailer. Lennox strode on ahead, taking the steps two at a time. "I still can't believe we're posted here. Honestly, I'm surprised the Pentagon took the suggestion seriously." He pulled a large metal key ring out of his pocket and started flipping through the various keys dangling on it.

Vivian stood close behind under the shelter of his umbrella, watching him with idle curiosity. "And who gave them that bright idea?"

Lennox held up a key sporting a bright red label. "I did." He shoved it into the lock and fiddled with the doorknob as he continued. "My superiors were searching for a location that was isolated and inaccessible to the outside world. It's hard to keep a secret if everyone can get to it. I brought up Diego Garcia, which has nothing but military personnel roaming around, thanks to the naval base. It's also not exactly easy to get to, as you've probably figured out by now, and not many civilians know about this place. I wasn't sure they'd agree with me, but they took the suggestion to committee and gave me the green light to start building the training facility here."

"Wait, so this whole base was your idea?"

"Yes, ma'am," Lennox admitted with a grin. "It's my baby. Well, it's partially mine. I'm pretty sure one of the higher-ups convinced them to make up their minds."

He turned the knob and thrust his shoulder into the door. The major turned to gesture inside. "After you, ma'am."

"Please, call me Miss Bennett, Major," Vivian laughed as she stepped inside. "I understand you're being polite, but 'ma'am' makes me feel old. The kids back home think 27 is old. I don't need to feel it . . . too."

If she thought it was dark outside, it was downright sinister in the trailer. The faint stench of antiseptic tingled in her nostrils, the only indication that a nurse's office was located somewhere in this vacuous black hole. Vivian groped her hand along the wall feeling for a light switch, which the darkness quickly swallowed as soon as she reached inside. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the gloom, but the impenetrable wall of shadows remained.

"We've renovated this thirty-foot trailer so that it splits into three rooms: One for waiting, one for examination, and one for supplies." Lennox directed a hand to the middle, left, and farther left, designating each separate compartment. "Each room has solar-powered lights with motion sensors to conserve energy, so if you want the lights to come on, you have to step inside first. Not right now, though," he said, gripping her arm to stop her from going in. "I'm sorry, but we don't get that much sunlight during the monsoon season, and we need to keep those batteries charged as close to capacity as we can. Maybe tomorrow, when the rain lets up a bit. Any questions so far?"

"Yeah. Where's the restroom?"

"There's one in your quarters about forty feet away. Do you need to-"

Vivian rounded on him almost immediately. "You mean to tell me that I'm supposed to work in a health station without running water?!"

Lennox took a wary step back. "We've provided hand sanitizer and disinfecting sprays to-"

"It's not just that!" she yelled, more so she could be heard over the torrential downpour than out of irritation. "What if I get a patient who comes in throwing up? I don't want to tell them to hurl over the railing, or worse, go into my house and use my toilet! I need some form of plumbing out here!"

"There's a reason for that, Miss Bennett," the major explained to the aggravated nurse. "In the event that we're overwhelmed with wounded and need extra supplies, we can just drive a truck over, hitch the trailer up and drive back to base with it."

"And I'd better be going along with it, if it's that critical!" she stated with an air of finality, and planted her hands on her hips to emphasize her point.

Lennox stared down at the woman, trying hard not to crack a smirk. She was certainly a great deal more obstinate than the first nurse. "If it ever comes to that, we'll see. In the meantime, though, you'll be staying here treating the other civilians for minor injuries and illnesses. Anything more serious will be reported to the hospital on base. As for the running water situation, I'll need to talk that over with the commander and see what we can come up with."

"I don't care if you have to nail down a Port-A-Potty next door! We need something out here now!"

The major laid a calming hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Miss Bennett, I promise that we'll get this resolved as soon as possible. It might not happen right away, considering everything else that's going on right now, but I'll keep you posted. Okay?"

Vivian breathed a sharp sigh through her nose. This was an oversight that should never have been disregarded, not just for her sake, but for the sake and overall health of her future patients. "Alright," she ceded. "But I'm only saying that because I'm going to keep nagging you about it. Running water is 'Hygiene 101', you know. It's essential!"

"I know it is," Lennox said. "And we'll get it taken care of as soon as we can." He shut the door with a decisive slam and assisted her back down the ribbed stairs. "The commander wants to make sure everyone's happy, but he's also a realist. The moment he comes back, I'll bring it up."

"I also heard that he's not a big fan of Galloway."

The major tensed, pausing in mid-step. "Where'd you hear that?"

"On the plane. Someone mentioned how he apparently gets on the commander's 'bad side'."

Vivian thought she caught a glimpse of relief flitting across his features. "Oh, it's not just him, it's everyone! He may be the National Security Advisor to the President, but that doesn't mean we'll all agree with him, which he expects us to do, for some reason. He's actually opposed to us being out here, along with - - Let me put it this way," Lennox said, trying to summarize his tirade. "He makes Congress look competent."

She winced. "That's atrocious!"

"Yeah, but it's true! He's a typical bureaucrat: The only smarts he's got is in his suit."

They stepped onto the driveway, where Lennox waved at Chris, who sat in the Jeep with his feet propped up on the dashboard. As if waiting for the cue, he promptly heaved himself back into an upright position, wrenched himself around and started rummaging in the backseat.

"We're going to head on over to your house while Chris grabs your luggage." Lennox reached to his side and unhooked the flashlight fastened to his belt. "I know you're a little disappointed with the trailer, but hopefully this will make up for it."

A faint beam of light sputtered to life from his flashlight. It was no match for the weather, which consumed the pale glow almost instantly, but it would have to suffice for now.

"Stay close, okay?"

Vivian had no problem complying with that order. "What about Chris? Shouldn't we wait for him?"

"I'll go back for him once you're inside."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to just drive the Jeep up here?"

"It's overdue for maintenance, but it was the only one I could find on short notice. I don't want to take any unnecessary risks right now, not with the ground as soaked as it is."

She only had to glance down at her feet to prove his point. The sand squelched with every step they took, and Vivian in particular had to be mindful of where she walked. While Lennox could stride across the terrain with confidence, her sandals were distinctively lacking in regards to traction. Twice she had to grab his arm to avoid a potentially humiliating nosedive into the dirt, an act which brought back memories of her first and last adventure involving skis, a steep snow-capped slope, and an unsuspecting pine tree.

"There it is!" Lennox yelled. "Home sweet home!"

Vivian could not deny that the house had its charm. Seeing the cottage resting on reinforced wooden stilts reminded her of the story of Baba Yaga and the house that stood on chicken feet. The childhood memory stirred a smile to her face.

Lennox returned it with one of his own. "Great! I'm glad you like it! Ready to check out the interior?"

"Well, since there aren't any lamp posts and Gene Kelly hasn't shown up yet, I'd say yes."

The major replied with a blank stare.

"You know, Gene Kelly? 'Singing in the Rain'?"

Nothing.

"Okay, that was a waste of everyone's time. Never mind, then. Let's head on up!"

The outdated reference did not appear to faze him in the slightest. "It's fantastic that you're so eager to see it," he said as they mounted the stairs.

Vivian interrupted his optimistic train of thought with another question. "It's been raised, what, six feet off the ground? Does the tide really come in that far?"

"On occasion, if there's stormy weather at sea. Mostly it's because of the crabs."

It took her about ten seconds for her to spit out a response. "CRABS?"

"Yeah, we've got robber crabs, or coconut crabs, whichever you prefer. They're basically the same thing, but anyway," Lennox continued while he fumbled for the key ring yet again, "they swarm the jungles at night. Normally they stay away from people, but sometimes they get a little curious and want to check things out. That's why your house has been raised off the ground. You're living in a more isolated location, and they'll be more tempted to poke around the place, so it acts as kind of a deterrent for them. The height of the stairs is steeper, too, for that reason."

Vivian could hardly believe the words pouring out of his mouth. "They can climb stairs too?!"

Lennox wrenched off a key with a lime green label. "Oh, they try!" he said as he shoved it into the lock. "These things weigh about eight-and-a-half pounds on average. If there's enough of them around, they just climb over each other and crawl their way up from-"

Vivian was growing paler by the second. The idea of a waterbug skittering on her wall was enough to send her into a screaming fit, but the thought that a giant crab could climb up to her front door was a terrifying prospect.

Lennox paid little attention to her. He was currently occupied with yet another stuck door. It submitted to his will after he rammed it three times with his shoulder, the knob slamming against the inside wall.

"This is it," he said, breathing hard from effort.

"You want some ice for that?" she asked, genuinely concerned. "You've been abusing that shoulder quite a lot today."

He waved her off. "Nah, I'm good. I've done worse, trust me. Sorry about the doors, by the way. That's another downside to the whole humidity situation: They absorb the moisture and swell up."

Vivian shook her head. Clearly this man never lived in the South. "If that's the only technological issue I'll have to deal with, then I'll survive. Those are nothing new to me."

"Okay, good. I'm going to head back to get Chris and help him with your luggage. How about you take a look around and see what you think?"

"Sure thing!" No sooner had she spoken the words than the major vanished back outside, leaving her alone in the empty house.

Vivian wandered into what appeared to be the living room, its walls pale and blank, demanding to be cluttered with shelves or photos of loved ones back home. She nearly let out a whoop of joy when she spotted the dim outline of a light switch panel halfway down the wall beside her. The next couple of minutes were spent testing the three switches to find out where exactly they fit in the grand scheme that was this house. She flipped the first one and was promptly blinded by the bright light overhead. For a moment, she expected a voice to speak glad tidings or some form of divine communication, but it just blithely hummed into existence. Once the vivid splotches of color faded from view, Vivian discovered that her speculations were correct. She was in fact in the living room. It had been modestly furnished with a couch and recliner, both of which were a faded turquoise that was intended to be sea foam, and were situated in front of the television on the opposite wall.

The second switch, for some inexplicable reason, illuminated the kitchen just beyond. Four pallid cabinets had been installed on an equally ashen wall. A quick peek inside confirmed that she could cross off dishware and glasses on her shopping list. The stainless steel sink seemed to be in working order. She turned the handle and was relieved when a steady stream of water poured out of the faucet.

"If there's plumbing here, then getting some for the health station shouldn't be a problem."

Vivian tried the third switch. A loud cry from outside promptly followed.

Panicked by the sound, she raced back to the door. "What happened?" she yelled out.

It took little guesswork to answer her question. Chris lay flat on his back at the foot of the stairs, gazing mutely up at the sky with her luggage flanking him on either side. Lennox laughed at the dumbfounded expression on his face, as if he truly had no idea how he ended up there.

"Oh my God! Chris, are you okay?! You didn't fall down the steps, did you? Did you break anything?"

"He's fine," Lennox replied for her brother. "The porch lights came on and they scared him a bit. He took a little spill and just slid the rest of the way. Kind of like a Slip 'N Slide."

"Yeah," Chris groaned as he sat up, "except they don't exfoliate your skin on the way down."

"No, they're not supposed to," Vivian chimed in, "but if they're not wet enough, they do try to peel off the first layer. Remember the one time when you were seven and you couldn't wait for Dad to turn the hose on? Talk about friction burn!"

"Yeah. I've hated Slip 'N Slides ever since."

Lennox failed to stifle a chuckle as he pulled Chris to his feet. "C'mon, man. Let's go."

Vivian held the door open while they gathered up her luggage, climbed the stairs and trudged inside. She shook her head at the sight of her brother's back caked in sandy mud.

"Here you go," he said and dropped her suitcases down on the linoleum.

"Thank you, kind sir," she teased. "This'll be reflected in your tip." Before he could spit back a retort, she wrapped him in a hug, making sure to give him an extra squeeze.

Chris surrendered and hugged her back. "That'll be twenty dollars, ma'am."

"Shut up!"

"Okay, you two," Lennox interrupted, "I hate to break this up, but I just got a message from the commander and I need to head on out."

"It's alright; he's all yours." Vivian shoved her brother towards the major. "Catch you later, Chris!"

"Bye, squirt!" Chris dodged a swipe from his sister before ducking out the door.

Lennox approached her once the commotion subsided. "Enjoy your evening, Miss Bennett," he said. "I don't know if you had a chance to check out your bedroom, but your laptop and cell phone are already set up for you. Just follow the packet of instructions and you're ready to go."

Great. More paperwork. Woohoo.

"Thank you, Major, I appreciate it. I do have one question, though."

"Ask away."

"Why am I all the way out here? Shouldn't I be living in the civilian quarters?"

Lennox crossed his arms, leaned against the doorframe, and sighed. Vivian wondered if the constant stream of questions annoyed him. "Remember when I said that the trailer was designed for a specific reason?" he asked. "Well, so is this. You're here because we need you here. If, like you said, we needed an extra hand, we can pick you up along with the trailer. But I wouldn't recommend being in the trailer if or when that happens. It's a matter of convenience and easy access."

"Right." She braced her back on the wall. His answer should have comforted her in regards to her role, but somehow it made her more apprehensive.

It must have shown on her face, because Lennox relaxed and softened his voice. "I know this all seems really haphazard, like we just threw it together at the last minute. But let me be the first to tell you that you're not the only one who feels that way. I'm watching this base grow and I can't help but wonder if I've overlooked something, like the plumbing for instance," he confessed before she tried to interject. "I promise you, though, that there is a reason and a purpose for everything and everyone here."

The buzzing cell phone in his back pocket shocked them back to some semblance of awareness. Lennox picked it up and looked at the screen. "Ah hell, he's getting impatient. At least I think he is. It's hard to tell with text. But anyway," he said, putting his phone away, "I hope you have a good night, Miss Bennett. Try to get some sleep; you'll feel better."

"Hey, who's the nurse, here?" she joked.

Lennox trotted out the door, down the stairs and back to the Jeep. Vivian waved at the two men as they pulled away and then closed the door behind her, retreating to the relative comfort of her new home.

The couch seemed especially tempting, but the luggage at her feet demanded immediate attention. She grabbed her bags and dragged them through the living room, praying that they were leaving a minimal trail of sand along the floor in the process. A cream-colored door stood ajar just down the hall, waiting for her to enter.

All the exhaustion, stress, and bewilderment from her trip overwhelmed her all at once. As soon as she walked into her bedroom, Vivian burst into tears. She knew it was stupid for her to be weeping like a five-year-old right now, but the whole experience thus far was highly nerve-wracking, especially for a homebody like herself.

It was made even worse when she caught her reflection in the mirror across the room. Thanks to the rain, her red t-shirt and blue jeans appeared three shades darker. Gray-blue eyes gazed back at her through strands of dark brown hair that clung to her pale face. To her mind, she looked, and felt, if it was possible, like a rag doll that was accidentally thrown in the wash.

A clicking noise and cold white glow from the opposite side of the bedroom attracted her attention. Whoever designed the layout of the house had the infinite wisdom to place a desk beside her bed. Her new laptop and smartphone lay beside each other on its surface, waiting for her to utilize them. In fact, the computer was already on, displaying an email page. Vivian wiped her face with the beach towel still in her hand and made her way over to take a look at the screen.

There was a single unopened email titled "Welcome" in bold black letters. She clicked on it and skimmed through the message.

"'Welcome to Diego Garcia', blah blah blah, 'we hope you enjoy your stay', blah blah blah, signed 'N.E.S.T.'. Hey, what's this?"

Vivian scrolled down to find a P.S. in the email. "'P.S. Miss Vivian Bennett, it has come to my attention that you require plumbing services at your health station. The appropriate personnel have been notified and will contact you regarding installation within the next 24 hours. I apologize for any inconvenience this oversight may have caused, and I hope any misgivings you may currently have concerning our organization will be dispelled.' Huh. That was fast! Where's Major Lennox's email? I need to send him a "Thank You'!"

Just as she reached forward to type, a mosquito landed on her arm. She crushed it in one blow, but then another touched down on her hand. How they managed to survive the deluge outside was nothing short of miraculous.

Half an hour later, the battle raged on.

So much for "dispelling my misgivings".

"Welcome to N.E.S.T.," she mumbled as she mashed the umpteenth mosquito tonight. "Please accept our housewarming gifts of rain, crabs, and malaria."