Imagine Christopher Columbus's initial arrival in the Caribbean, only this time he decides to suppress the intentions of his military, his priests and his capitalists. Change the location to Exireas and add a mystery starting with a shoe, a black one with white laces and a matching medallion-sized rubber circle embroidered on the ankle. It's the designer kind you'd expect to see on a trendsetting sophomore strutting the corridors of a local high school. There's nothing special about this except for the foot it contains. And there was nothing special about the foot either, except there is no body attached.
Who among the ship's eleven pilgrims could the foot belong to? Could it be Peytz, the Captain's intense batman, or Claudia Irmshire, the impassioned labour historian, or perhaps it belonged to Abi Peneater, the hippy artist? Could it belong to the slothful Libby or his chum Trid Osvald, the determined man of faith? It might belong to Max Churchman, the reclusive scientist, or maybe Karen Peterson, the energetic sexologist. Then there was Vero Roberts, a not-so-quaint doctor, or Judy Marion, the ship's technician. Perhaps the foot belonged to the ship's Captain.
All we know for sure is that these people are on a one-way journey, and they need to know who the foot belongs to, who cut it off, and the reason why.
