Scully stood before the body of Adrian Mercer, which was now covered with a sheet. Even though an autopsy had already been done, Mulder had wanted her to do another herself. She was speechless as he came in and asked, "So, what's the consensus?"

"Mulder, this man...I don't even..." She picked up the report of investigations done by local marine life specialists. "There is a list a full page long of creatures Mercer was attacked by, and the most anyone come up with for the cause of death is blood loss from the Great White Shark bite he received. Mulder, this is insane. Mangroves are home to fish and jellyfish—maybe baby sharks! And yet from renting a kayak on his free time he is mutilated beyond the realms of...possibility." She took a deep breath.

"Do you have any ideas on what might have happened?"

"I have no idea. It's like some sort of rebellion against humanity or a...mass force-"

"Underwater mutiny? That's the best you can do?" Asked Mulder with a chuckle.

"All right, what do you think?"

"I don't know yet, but to me, it seems highly improbably that this guy was attacked by several different things all acting together or in the same area at the same time. What if this were some sort of genetically altered monster that preys on humans?"

"For what purpose?" Scully asked. "Mercer may have been bitten, but he is fully intact, so nothing ate him. If this were some sort of...'sea thing,' it would get absolutely nothing out of killing people."

"Like I said, I don't know yet, but I already feel like I've worked too much today."

"What do you mean, work? We got on a plane to Miami, got here, and I went to work on this autopsy while you waited."

"I mean my brain's working too hard, Scully. It's pool time!"

"Mulder, we've still got a few hours before we'll get to Islamorada."

"Yeah, I know, but the pool will still be open, Scully. I checked. We take a dip, you throw on a sundress, and we hurry on out to Freedom Sail, the most carefree seafood restaurant in all the Keys. I made us reservations, in case you were wondering."

"I'm really not much of a pool person, and Mulder...sundress?"

"We're living on island time, Scully!"

After a couple of hours and a couple of long silences, Mulder and Scully arrived at their hotel. Just as Mulder had promised, there was a beautiful view of the glimmering sea. They checked in, and Mulder wanted to check out the things to do around the hotel. Scully went with him. Still packing around their luggage, they saw that there was a huge pool, a hot tub, and a small tiki bar. Near the water, there was a tiny hut with a sign next to it that read: Complimentary Oceanside Massages Every Afternoon.

"Mulder...the FBI isn't paying for a resort like this, is it?" Asked Scully.

"Nah, I splurged."

"You're paying for this out of your own pocket?"

"Well, not the whole thing. You only go around once, Scully."

"Mulder..."

"What can I say? I'm generous."

Scully smiled at him. "Thank you, Mulder. This is really nice."

"You're welcome," he said, patting her on the shoulder.

They rode up in the elevator together and filed into their rooms, which were across the hall from each other. "Meet me at the pool in ten minutes," said Mulder, unlocking his door. "Or don't. Whatever tickles your fancy. But we're leaving for dinner at seven."

"All right." Scully opened her door and took a deep breath. It really was a great room, with plenty of space for just her. As she looked around, everything reminded her where she was, from the red starfish on the lampshades to the palm branches on the bedspread. She moved over to her small balcony, opened the door, and stepped outside. Before her was an unobstructed view of the limitless sea. It had always made her feel at home because of her father's service as a Naval Captain. Thinking fondly of him, she knew what she was going to do until dinner. Opening up her suitcase and taking out her worn copy of Moby Dick, she returned to her balcony, where she sat in a plastic chair and put her feet up on the railing.

"Chapter One: Loomings."

For dinner, Scully had chosen to wear the same clothes as she had been wearing, but as Mulder approached her in the hotel lobby, she saw that he had selected an orange Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and sandals. She couldn't help but chuckle at him. "Very nice, Mulder."

"Really, Scully? You're wearing your G-Woman clothes?"

"This is always what I wear when we go out to eat."

"Usually you don't have an opportunity to change. You had two and a half hours to find a different outfit!"

"Come on, Mulder," she said, turning her back toward him and beginning to walk out to the car.