Zephyr Starpaws crouched on the black sand and pressed his eyes shut. The signal was pulsing again, deep under the planet Nervespool, buzzing through his antennas like a bee trapped in his skull. He had been chasing it for weeks, riding the night waves until sunrise, sure that somewhere out on the water he would feel it directly below him and know where to dive. Tonight the pulse felt strong. He grabbed his blue surfboard, shook the sand from his cyan fur, and paddled out. The first wave took him left. He caught it clean, rode it a long way, and when he stopped, the signal was fainter. He paddled back and tried again. The next wave carried him right. The signal shrank again. Every wave was good. Every wave was wrong. On shore the pulse felt like it came from everywhere at once, and out on the water each ride pulled him further from whatever was calling him. His lilac nose stung from salt. The sky was already turning gray at the edges. He dragged the board up onto the sand near the little tiki bar with the glowing blue rocks. A small blue alien in a flowered shirt sat on a stool there, watching the sea with big round eyes. Zephyr had seen him around. He set the board down and said he could hear something under the water but could not tell from where. The alien sipped his drink. "Blossom," he said. "You need two points." Zephyr tilted his head. Blossom pointed at the shore, then at a rock stack far out in the bay. "Listen from here. Listen from there. Draw the lines. They cross." He shrugged. "That's how I look for my reef." Zephyr started to ask what reef. Blossom was already looking back at the water. Zephyr ran to the rock stack while the pulse was still strong. He climbed up, closed his eyes, and turned his antennas until the buzz peaked. He held the direction in his head. Then he paddled back to shore and did the same from the sand. Two lines, one in each ear. They crossed over a dark patch of water past the outer break, where no wave rolled and the surface sat flat. He had a point on the map now. He also had a problem. The sky behind him was pink. Sunrise was minutes away, the crossing point was far past any wave that could carry him, and the flat water meant there was nothing out there to ride.