“I didn’t think I’d ever get to fly in my lifetime,” said Little Man. “Or see such a vibrant shade of blue, or smell such copious amounts of burnt toast.”

“You and me both,” answered Pernie.

They stood on the end of the loading ramp of the dropship now parked a hundred or so feet away from a cliff. Beyond that though, was the sea for a far as the eye could see. Pernie pulled out her VRGL and found the appropriate page: “243°. Beach. Winged Man.” it said.

“What’s it say?”

Both Little Man and the pilot flanked her to read VRGL’s words of wisdom.

“243?” questioned N-3. “That's over the cliff.”

“Then there's a beach down there,” said Pernie beginning her walk towards the cliff.

She was right, far down below there was a beach of gravel and stones. Her eyes traced the shore in either direction. There was nothing of interest to the right, something sitting among the rocks directly below them, and to the left far down the way was a pathway down.

“Looks to be a path. Hope it's not too steep,” said LIttle Man.

It was steep, but fortunately lacked the scree of the beach. At least the climb back up wouldn’t be any harder. Once at the bottom the waves and gravel greeted them, splashing among each other. The beach was wide enough that neither party needed to shake hands, though. There were crabs too, but they weren’t interested in greeting anyone. Little Man took a deep breath, perhaps a bit too deep, then coughed.

“Reminds me of the last time I was by the ocean.”

“Hard not to be reminded,” replied Pernie. “Smell one, you smell em’ all.”

He ignored her.

“I remember it like it were yesterday. It was the morning of June 16th…”

As Little Man rambled on about “the one that got away,” among other things, the group came upon a figure sitting among the rocks. It must have been the thing Pernie spotted among the rocks earlier, but it came as a surprise to her—and the others for that matter—that this figure was a man. He was elderly, no two ways about it. His skin clung to his bones like a vacuum sealed bag. Despite his apparent age, he had no shortage of muscle and appeared to be quite physically capable. To top it off, he possessed a pair of wings.

“...it was the biggest fish I’d ever seen—”

N-3 nudged Little Man, who had been talking the entire time, knocking him back into reality.

“Ouch, little automaton you—”

He finally looked forward.

“OH MY GOD AN ANGEL!”

The winged man, somehow not noticing them before, jumped at his shrill words and fell off his rock.

“Relax dude!” urged Pernie. “That’s no angel.”

“But he’s got the wings and everything!”

“Do you even know what a Biblical angel looks like?”

“You mean to tell me they don’t look like that?”

Little Man pointed to the winged man as he clambered back onto his rock. Finally, he said something. It was nothing any of them could comprehend, but was something they could still somehow understand.

“You’re… You’re not an angel?” asked Little Man.

The winged man nodded, then said something once more.

“I can see why you get that a lot,” said Pernie gesturing to his wings. “How’d you end up with them anyway?”

He shrugged, then spoke.

“We need your help,” N-3 stated, plainly. “That’s why.”

“We have a bit of an issue we can’t solve ourselves,” added Pernie.

The winged man folded his arms and let out a huff.

“So what’ll it be?” asked Little Man.

He said something.

“Then it's a deal,” responded N-3. “You’ll see plenty, I can promise you that.”

The party, now one member larger, headed back down the beach to find their way back up the cliff. Little Man slowed his pace to talk besides the new member, eager to chat as ever.

“Sorry about startling you earlier,” he said. “I’ve never seen a man with wings before.”

The winged man mumbled something and waved dismissively.

“Well that’s good… I’m Norman, but most people call me Little Man. The woman’s name is Pernie, that talking automaton is named N-3, and there is a translucent man trapped in a box on Pernie’s wrist named Dr. Case, you haven’t met him yet though. What’s your name, stranger?”

Once more, the winged man spoke, much longer this time.

“Well I suppose that’s as good a name as any. Fitting too. Nice to meet you, Traveler.”

So the dropship welcomed its final passenger, without talking that is. Little Man made sure to make it clear to the traveler that the only machine that talked was N-3. Before leaving for their final destination, Pernie made the point of contacting Dr. Case.

“We’ve picked up our last passenger.”

“I’ve heard, good work,” he said. “You should be clear to head to the final destination.”

“Can I ask why we couldn’t just go there to begin with?”

“Err… To keep it brief, you need something ok to get to the un-ok. Science behind it ain’t really worth getting into.”

“I see…”

“Well anyway, be sure to contact me when you get there. Oh by the way, if you find anything you want to show me—you will, believe me—don’t worry about tryin’ to show me through your watch. I have a live feed through Fly Boy’s visual feed.”

“Got it.”

After their usual preparations and concern over the coolant pumps, everyone took their seats. The Traveler didn’t, it was more comfortable to stand on account of his wings. He did wear a helmet though.