Dea's eyes bored into the ogi screen as she scrolled the contract document. "This involves a neural chip?"

"Yeah," Muda grunted, slowing down to let her catch up. "I don't know the specifics. You'd have to ask Kelp or Gog about it."

"Oh, what do they do?"

"Gog is a neuroscientist. She comes from Hulang."

"Right." Dea tried to recall what she knew about the nomadic tribe.

"She'll be overseeing the procedure."

Her mind conjured up a picture of Goggly poking around in her skull. The darkness in the corridor stoked her morbid imagination. She shuddered.

"It's minimally invasive," Muda said, observing her reaction. "It's done by a surgery bot."

Her misgivings escalated in tandem with her awe. Maybe I learn more about this from Kelp before I sign this contract. She rolled her eyes when she remembered the slavery clause. That witchy brine pool jerk.

They porpoised on, their slick forms bobbing in and out of the water.

Dea was now back in the main habitat—the unlikely home of a whole deep-sea town by the looks of it. The contract had come through while Muda led her to what she called the "bot room".

"So, what about Kelp?" Dea asked above the splashing of their flukes. "What is he?"

"He's a tech whiz. He's pretty much like the boss's apprentice."

She glanced at the merwoman. "What does your boss do then?"

"He's...quite a few things. A robotics engineer for one—he practically built the land gear."

Before Dea could react, Muda slid open a door and ushered her in.

She blinked against the lights, amplified by glaring whiteness wherever she looked—a disorienting sight after traversing the sunless environs of the deep.

It was a capacious workroom locked in a limbo between the new and old. Sterile white warred with brooding greys amid an archipelago of floor segments that rose above the water. Metal parts and worktables littered the available space, while several merpeople bustled about, adding to the whir of activity.

"This place is far from bleak," Dea murmured. "The most happening I've seen in these depths."

"Well, the deep used to be more happening." The merwoman waved at someone as she paddled further in. "But the ocean is acidifying. And life is getting...less abundant up on the surface. So pollutants filter down instead of food—it's a struggle for creatures living here."

A frown lined her brow as she followed behind.

Kelpern Pasi swam forward to greet them, aquamarine reflecting off his eyes. "Hey there, Callian."

"Hey." Dea attempted a smile despite the weight on her mind.

"She wants to see the newest," Muda told him.

"Sure thing. Follow me."

Dea hastened to match his pace while curious looks bombarded her from all sides. "So, I hear a bot's going to implant a chip?"

"That's right," he said without missing a beat. "Seamless integration. You move it with your mind."

"Wow, a brain-machine interface? We don't have neural chips in Calliathron—unless it's for medical reasons. Certainly not for ogis."

"We actually don't do ogi integration yet either."

Dea slowed to a drift to gauge him. "Oh?"

"I mean, you can even network chips to enable something like telepathy. That's super cool, but it would pose several problems that would need thorough assessment—social implications, privacy issues and hacking concerns. The chips we're using are tiny ones that only allow some basic controls over the Cypod."

"The what?"

He came to a stop at a white surface that jutted an inch above the waterline. Showcased on this pedestal were what appeared to be futuristic armchairs with wheels. The ergonomic design streamlined down to a covered lower section, where specular highlights slanted under the LEDs.

Dea took in the scene, her mouth ajar. Yep, this is a mini Finburgini showroom right here.

Kelp made a theatrical gesture. "Say hello to the Cypod Terra."

"Ooh." She hoisted herself off the water to approach an oblong lump of a machine.

"And that," he said, observing the object of her interest, "is the newest. Cypod X3. It's collapsible."

He tapped on his ogi and unfurled the shiny invention to its full dimensions.

Dea watched spellbound. "Whoa!"

"After looking at your sub, the X3 is the only one that would fit into it."

"This is so cool...But do humans use this sort of thing?"

"They use various mobility devices. Not just differently-abled humans, but others as well. Although it might not be widespread yet."

"How do you know all this?"

Kelp shrugged, his eyes now on the ogi screen.

They have visited land then? She ran a finger on the Cypod's smooth contours as excitement bloomed within. Of course, they have all the tech! But have they made contact?

"So?" Muda asked, flopping down on the edge of the raised platform. "You wanna sign this contract and wrap this up?"

The gravity of the situation yanked her down, and she propped up her torso on one arm. "This implant..."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about it," Kelp said, waving a hand at the far side of the workroom. "The chip's tiny—with threads many times thinner than a strand of hair. And the bot would be done in no time."

Dea followed his gaze to a station where a quirky structure stood. It resembled a factory bot.

"Half an hour for monitoring. Some more time for you to get used to it." He nodded. "And you're good to go."

"Just like that?" She stared at him. "I don't have to go under?"

"Nope, it's just a simple incision. We only need a scalp block—or in other words, anesthetize your scalp. The brain doesn't have pain receptors anyways. That's how awake brain surgeries are done. Gog can explain it in detail if you want."

She took a full minute to process the information. "No risks?"

"Of course there are risks—as with any medical procedure," Kelp replied matter-of-factly. "Allergies, infection, chip malfunctioning or even a hitherto unforeseen complication. The probability is low, however. And we'd have to remove it once you get back, and there might be some scarring."

Sounds like he's telling the truth. As she eyeballed Kelp's friendly face, Dea wondered how he could stand working with the Sea Witch. Anuk—that's the jerk's name. His words suddenly echoed in her mind, warning her not to take off with the gear. She frowned.

"Dea?"

"Oh, sorry—I was just thinking."

"You worried we'd do mind control on you or something?" Kelp asked, peering at her.

Muda snorted—an explosive sound vaguely reminiscent of a sea cow fart.

"No, of course not." Dea shifted her weight and whipped out the ogi from her waist pouch.

Think, you silly gull! Serendiva's way beyond the reach of whatever communication tech they have. She knew that sound waves didn't even propagate the way they did in water. It would be impossible for them to track her—unless they did so on her return journey, at which point she could make a mad dash back to the city if she wanted to.

Unfolding the ogi, she hovered her finger over the contract's signature field. If they can't spy on my movements or try some other funny business, why did Anuk say I can't take off then? Maybe it's a bluff to scare me into bringing the gear back!

The very air seemed to hold its breath. Her heartbeat spiked.

"Let's do this." She scrawled her name on the document.

It didn't hurt the way she expected when the bot inserted the microchip. The scalp block was a mere sting of a pesky vaccination shot. I'm a cyborg now!

"Sit still for half an hour," Goggly ordered irritably. "After that you can check if it's working fine and then get the heck out of here."

"Uhuh," Dea mumbled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

A riot of thoughts and emotions clamored in her head while she sat waiting. Faint voices, mingled with the gurgle of water, filled her ears.

When the wait-time was over, she carefully extracted her head from the bot's cranial-shaped cavity. Nothing felt different when she paddled back to Kelp and Muda, who watched expectantly as she approached.

"Everything cool?" Kelp asked, rubbing his hands. "Wanna try maneuvering this thing?"

"Yeah, okay," Dea managed to say, giving her skull an experimental tap.

He handed over his ogi—a bluish model which now displayed a control interface. "See these? Move them manually first—no, focus your eyes on the Cypod."

She locked onto the machine as her fingers touched the controls on the screen.

The Cypod inched forward.

"Good," he said encouragingly.

"I'm certainly not doing it with my mind," she murmured.

"Keep doing it. Your brain needs to calibrate."

Her intense concentration blurred out everything else. Dea slid various controls, accompanied by the hypnotic beep of the touchpad. The Cypod obeyed her commands, moving backwards, sideways and in a circle. Then Kelp leaned sideways, and she sensed his hand brushing the ogi screen.

A dozen beeps later, she felt somewhat silly. "Kelp, I don't think it's working."

"Yeah?" he said in hushed tones. "I'd say it's working."

"Huh?" She flung a glance his way.

Startled by his satisfied smile, Dea shifted her stare to the ogi in her hands—and almost dropped it.

The screen was off.

Kelp's smile elongated to a grin. "Congrats."

Words tumbled out of Dea's mouth in quick succession, "Holy sea cow! I moved something with my mind!"

"That's right."

The very idea seemed absurd. Yet, when her hesitant eyes landed on the Cypod, she knew how to do it—as if it was nothing but an extension of her biological vessel.

Dea brought the machine closer as easily as flexing a limb. "This is flipping insane!"

Muda's voice swelled above her laughter. "You have a call."

"Huh?"

"Someone wants to speak to you." The merwoman extended a muscly arm and handed her the ogi.

Dea gave Kelp his ogi back and grabbed Muda's. What now?

A shadowed face greeted her from the screen, faint light specking the twin coals of his eyes. If it isn't the monster from the brine lake.

His lips eased into a smile at her sharp intake of breath. "Ready to set out?"

She composed her face into an appropriate expression—that of total boredom with a passive-aggressive touch. "Yes, I will be departing soon. Your...goods are satisfactory."

"Glad to hear that." His smile became more pronounced. "I have something for you to take on your quest."

"Yeah?" she intoned, trying to dispel the iota of surprise that sneaked in. "What would that be?"

"Here," Muda interrupted.

Dea blinked down at the slim device on the merwoman's palm.

"It's a communicator," Anuk said in answer to her quizzical look. "If there's any problem once you reach land, you can use it to place a call."

She narrowed her eyes at the rectangular screen as if it would sprout a maw and swallow her whole.

"It won't bite," he added pleasantly when she didn't respond.

Her brain churned.

The last thing she wanted was for the prototype to run into a technical error, effectively stranding her on land. In that nightmarish situation, this was her only helpline. On the other hand, she wondered what diabolical tech it was using. If it isn't a dud, this could be what the brine pool jerk's using to put me under surveillance. Think! This thing needs batteries to work. You can switch it on only if you need it.

"Alright then." Dea took the communicator from Muda—and added as an afterthought, "thanks."

"Safe travels."

She quickly jabbed the icon to end the call and gave the ogi back to the merwoman. "If you could show me to the hangar, I'll be out of your hair."

"Alright," Muda grunted, getting to her tail with a heavy splash. "Let's get moving."

Kelp hastened to fold the Cypod to its compact form. "I'll have someone bring the—"

"Nah, that won't be necessary." Muda pulled it with an almighty heave, muscles bulging—as if the machine was nothing more than an average luggage case.

"Careful with that," Kelp cried, waving his noodle-like arms.

She proceeded to load it onto a nearby trolley and pushed it towards the exit. "You coming or not, Callian?"

Dea snapped out of her momentary paralysis and hurried along.

Location: Deep-Sea Corals

https://youtu.be/o0wlAWJxAFI