After my abortive attempt to immolate poor luckless Mike, I hid in the kitchen waste pile at the back of the ship until we docked at site B. I waited until there was no activity on the pier, and then slunk over the single dock and into the lush tropical forest, trailing a miasma of rotten cabbage.

I looked for a hideout on the side of the huge volcano, which dominated the skyline of Kīlauea island. Curling up in a shallow cave for the night, I congratulated myself on finding a small cave with a great view over the island’s harbour.

There did not seem to be much happening, considering that they had just lost (as far as they knew) two prisoners. A few security guards with Alsations were making a half-hearted attempt at looking for me.

I noticed that when they approached the area where I had scurried across the docks, their dogs started pulling on their leashes and I could hear the whining up in my eagle’s nest.

It seemed that whatever was happening inside me could be detected by dogs. “Cool”, I said aloud