"Infinite." I wake up from my sleep and find the words written on a paper full of creases lying beside my bed, illuminated by the colorful glow reflected from the glass in the window.
I got up and dressed, folded the paper to the size of a postage stamp, took a piece of black rock about the size of a coin from a small pocket in my right pant pocket, and scratched "/" on the back of the door. Then I clamp the piece of rock with paper, slip it back into my pocket, and slowly push the door out to begin a new Active Time.
Walking down the steel stairs to the mixed sandstone floor, I breathe slowly and look around: the two-story cabin framed by six concrete pillars, the eight-foot-tall thicket of shrubs that grow around the place, and a sandstone crossing about nine feet wide, all goes on as usual. The light is not too intense at this time of day, and there is a little wind. I make my way along the sandstone road, occasionally fingering the rustling bush leaves on either side. The clouds here are always so thick and low, stretching from the eyes to the distance; they always are.
At the end of the road is the beach, on which a high and low vertical reef pillar stands more than 30 feet tall, big enough for four or five Fellows at the top. It is the usual reading place, called the "Update Ladder." One of the most significant pieces of about 30 feet in diameter, a height of about 90 feet, and a rugged appearance, it is easy to climb; came to the top, can quickly look around a third of the island. By the way, here is an island, a floating island. The sea here is infinite. No one has ever seen the boundary, no one left relevant records, just like why I can know everything here from the first time I visited, no way to verify, no beginning, no end, Infinite.
There are three such beaches. Since the island is always floating, for orientation, assuming that the sandstone road by which the cabin reaches the beach runs from east to west, the beach where I am now is on the island's northwest side. And the remaining two, one on the south-southeast side, one on the northeast side, roughly like that. There are three similar extensive reefs, each on one side, naturally making an excellent place to look around the island, hence the name "Vision Ladder." For memory, the Vision Ladder on the northwest side is called VL1, the one on the south-southeast side is called VL2, and the one on the northeast side is called VL3. Everyone takes turns watching, which is essential because news from the sea is always popular.
"Beautiful Burgundy glow. Any news?" I asked.
"Thank you. Sapphire blue is good too. No." A Fellow on duty replied.
I open the duty book, and Fellows leaves messages here saying, "The lights are beautiful, everything is fine."
"Glad to..."
"Seven seconds!" Without looking back, the Fellow got down the ladder and ran away fast.
"Seven seconds... "I said to myself awkwardly.
An old rumor on the island said that on someone's first duty, the Fellow found a blurred image in the First Seven Seconds; at that time, the island set off a lively hot debate. Later, the phrase "seven seconds a round" was inscribed near the top of all Vision Ladders, visible to everyone who climbed it, and gradually acquiesced as the standard of duty. Of course, this is more representative of Good Luck and Blessing; many times around the sea and the island, a few times more good luck.
Such a good rumor. I experienced in the activity period that filling in the "Individual Behavior Report," the magazines I read on the Update ladder, or the pile of thick duty books here, is not recorded, which means that it never happened.
"infinite." I said to myself, touching my trouser pockets and facing the sea, "Get real！ Pull my weight！"
