It was here where I was tested.Sam, Brian, Miri and I were hiking along a trial in the crisp morning air. Sam and I were talking about my experiences...in the TSN. He always seemed to do that when we weren't talking about the mission. Having me talking about myself, that is. As always, he listened in rapt fascination to my anecdotes, and we fell a bit behind Miri and Brian, who were both setting an athletic pace."Oh my," Sam said, stopping. "What a beautiful view."We had come to a point in. ‘You have my cell phone number. May I have yours so I’ll know it’s you who is calling when you do. I would like to hear from you.’ I wrote down my cell number on a blank prescription and handed it to her. I smiled and suggested perhaps sharing a little doctor-patient time informally over a good evening meal would be good medicine for the both of us. As she received the note with my number written on it, I took her hand once again, lifted it to my face, bent her wrist and kissed the back of her. That the Lieutenant favors him makes me glad of his company. Our sixth member, Carter Grant, had been hired by the Professor as a cartographer, a detail that seems ironic due to our circumstances. He seems at a loss without his instruments, although I suspect that is in large part due to the shock of being castaway upon this unknown shore. In my humble opinion he is our small band’s weakest link and, personally, I find something in his manner disquieting, although I cannot put my finger on it.. Last Thursday morning I had come to lying on a bench in the stupid local park. With horror I had a vague recollection of fucking people I didn't know, several times - I can't fucking remember - the night before. Shit! That was the last fucking thing I should have done. Why me, those fucking friends of mine had injected drugs lots of times, but me- one needle and that's me screwed - end of! I hate me! Head still bloody throbbing and racked with guilt at my fucking selfish actions the night.