The weather reports were wrong: when Antón arrives at the breakwater the sea is calm. He has 2 large Zara bags containing hard drives, each attached by a fishing line to a stone. He approaches the cliff edge. The combined bulk of his large, bald head, large beard, and large, broken nose blocks out the sun. He stands at a certain point [the same point he has been coming to for years], holds his arm out at precisely 90° and lets one of the hard drives drop; the stone carries it down and under the water. Another follows, and another, and on until the 2 bags are empty. Years of repeating this operation. He hears the echo of the impact on the seabed, nearer and stronger every time. His hope is that one day the pile of hard drives, stones, and ultramuscular barnacles will emerge from the water, a single, compact thing, the “informatine” by then transferred to the barnacles’ genetic code, and a network of lichens binding together and giving solidity to this new natural formation. He crumples up the bags and goes home to see if The Omega Man’s final 0.2 megabytes have downloaded, first stopping by the ant’s nest to see how that is getting on.