Some way of being able to report back to those who where paying for the work they were not delivering fast enough they felt but what would it take no-one knew and so they all pretended to be working very hard each in his cubicle each on his mobile phone when out in the field no-one ever admitting that whatever it took wasn’t taking place though all of them all twenty-eight employees losing large chunks of sleep wondering what it would eventually take or who would eventually blow the whistle proverbially speaking as there was no real whistle at least no-one had ever seen such an instrument mostly the late-night worries swirling around a feeling of lack of structure or bounds or rules because let’s face it everyone deep down knew that in order to be creative or happy or to function with a modicum of normalcy you needed to know where one thing ended and another thing began or did you really but that was at least the unspoken sense most of the employees felt their educations and prior lives had instilled in them that it was chaos otherwise sheer anarchy leading to absolute unproductivity that you needed regulations fixed working hours a division between work and leisure night and day land and sea air and whatever its opposite was that no-one knew what to do with the freedom all the spare time all the never-ending afternoons they saw stretching before them into a completely undefined contour-free future flat and dead no one thing distinguishing itself unless one dared to start to think that it was up to each and one individually to form clusters of minutes that were dedicated to one and one thing only not five at the same time perhaps even hours doing the same thing that way forgetting the minutes that stood waiting after the task was done the days waiting after the one at hand was over that many of them entertained such thoughts late at night was inevitable but they never said so much as a sentence about it to each other at work heads lowered fingers tapping on keyboards out in the field measuring the land having really no idea if they were even measuring the right land for what purpose for whom writing the reports nonetheless sending them in to the central from which they never heard back not even confirmations of receipt though they did get paid every one of the twenty-eight workers on the same day of the month without fail this having gone on for months and months when eventually one by one workers started nodding off at their desks so tired from being up all night worrying about what their purpose was in that place why they were even doing it anymore when it seemed it would never end no-one ever sending any feedback of any kind all twenty-eight workers eventually sleeping all through what they presumed were their working hours going home at different times to sit in their separate apartments worrying about going to bed and not being able to sleep when in the end or not really the end but at a random point they one by one stopped coming in to work at all stopped shaving stopped washing stopped brushing their teeth and only sat at home watching the walls and the land stretching out past the windows now and then eating whatever was left in their fridges but it could have been a Saturday as Tor left his apartment to go to the shop when he stopped by the sea where the mountain fell directly into it from a large height and remained standing there a long time looking into the horizon feeling what he felt was the first warm day of spring having checked his bank account online having been paid last night even without having done any work for the last however long he couldn’t tell when a giant container-vessel curved itself over the edge of the end of his vision apparently heading straight for the coast where Tor was standing unshaved unwashed unkempt in the extreme feeling a guilty kind of panic spreading from inside him out to his skin making him sweat instantly for what was this ship doing approaching this place that didn’t even have a harbor let alone infrastructure to deal with loading or off-loading