In such bounty there can be no shortage.

Lost - we are searching for you. Grid searches with boats and illumination flares
that will fall white and guttering to green water. The lost cannot wait, because
their location is unknown, they have no radio, no clock, their last dead-reckoned contact fading, sliding across the convexity of the world.

Instruction manuals will be issued. Find them in your binder of health information
and menus of local restaurants, of directions to the sea. All restaurants issue from the sea.
They rise, water foaming from the doors. Long rows of tables feed any who can find their way.

In such bounty there can be no shortage.
There will be new black icons to indicate death.
New icons to represent the barrels, the drums, the rubber spheres, the welded
refrigerators that will carry us over the perpetual cataract of the falls, exiting to deep water.

Here, in the rescue station, follow the blue safety stripe along floor and walls, descending steel ladders with friction taped rungs.
In the basement, near the service entrance for all pipes, open the red valve. It will bring this building down.

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