Mara Vidal runs a decommissioned listening array on the Icelandic coast — twelve antennas, one
bad chair, and a job that mostly involves confirming that nothing happens. Then, at 03:14 on a
Tuesday, the array picks up a shipping forecast for Sandvík: population 212, winds
southwest force four, visibility good.
Sandvík does not exist. It has never existed. And someone in it has started saying her name.
