The body slapped the water, tumultuous waves drowning out the splash, and the ocean swallowed it in a heartbeat. Dea dived.

A problem she did not foresee sprang up to hinder her course of action.

Her muscles had long since adapted to the couch cucumber life, except for sporadic bouts of exertion while at school or work. Now, the effort she demanded of them to defy the violent currents was akin to a full workout at Flipping Flukes Fitness, which Hima liked to haunt on weekends.

Dea gritted her teeth and pushed on, her eyes fixated on the sinking form amidst the gloom. Her heart rammed against her ribcage like a miffed elephant seal. The nearer she got, the more defined the human became.

It was a male.

The skin appeared a matte brown the color of seafloor sediment. Short hair sprouted out of the head, black at the roots. What struck her the most were the bipedal limbs sticking down from the torso, encased in clothes made of unfamiliar materials. It was hard to imagine how the two long appendages could balance body weight while moving.

A bolt of lightning, followed by thunder, provided the fanfare when she reached her goal. Light bathed the body in a ghostly glow for a split second—enough for Dea to discern that the eyes were closed.

He's dead? Humans die so fast? Alarm bells rang in her head. No, he must be dazed!

In one panicky lunge, she reached out her arms and grabbed his hand. For a fleeting instant, she just stared at the point of contact. The skin was smooth but thin—unsuited for ocean living.

This is a real human! I'm touching a human! Worries, pains and the storm itself receded until her brain was as fuzzy as a sea bunny. The only experience with land she'd ever had were rare visits to the cays above Rhodoreef, the coral atoll around her city. Large land creatures existed only in textbooks and the C-Net. The human might as well have been alien.

It was surreal.

She almost reached for her ogi to capture the moment before she came to her senses. Humans can't hold breath for long, you silly gull! He might breathe in water—if he hasn't already!

She hooked him under the arms and swam up, her body screaming in protest at the added strain. Her head throbbed with renewed intensity, pain pulsing behind her eyes.

Just when her vision darkened, she breached the surface. Gulping in air, she pulled the human up with one colossal heave. The dead weight of his body tipped onto her and almost pushed her under. She shrieked, half inclined to shove him off.

As they rocked on the surging seas, she shook his shoulders with all her might. The head just lolled like a lifeless doll while water trickled from his mouth.

"Wake up!" she roared against the thunderous noise and slapped his face.

A spasm in his facial features confirmed that he was alive, and the eyes twitched open ever so slightly. It both thrilled and frightened her.

With great difficulty, she managed to extract her ogi and opened the map. She had no C-wave connection and could not pinpoint her location. Undeterred, she used the ogi's sonar to locate the nearest land mass. Her finger stilled, poised over the screen.

This journey would be nothing short of madness—if she could actually go that far. Fear gripped her anew—raw, visceral and all-consuming. Yet, there was no other way that the human could survive. Her chest constricted, and she sucked in one breath after another.

A heartbeat later, Dea pulled out the leash from her backpack. Each clap of thunder grated on her frayed nerves. Within the next few minutes, she huffed and puffed while her fumbling fingers secured it around the human's torso. She tied the other end around her waist.

Then she was off—this time towing a human.

Dea kept porpoising at a steady speed, her streamlined form slicing in and out of the water. Heavy panting vied with rushing waves—a mere whisper of the ocean's might, now that she was beyond the range of the cyclone. Her tail ached so much that she felt older than Gramma, who grumbled about her physical ailments as much as she did about humans. Every time her face emerged in the air, sopping locks of hair shone magenta under the sunset—skies of pinks and purples reminiscent of home. Her stomach curdled.

"Hey...human," she panted, throwing a quick glance behind her.

The human might as well have been a log.

She let out a huge sigh.

This was her second attempt at communicating with him—the first being the time she stopped for a rest. He showed no signs of snapping out of his daze. She surmised that he might be suffering from a concussion after hitting the water—all the more reason to get him to his people as soon as possible.

Her pace started to slow as exhaustion weighed her down, but her ogi revealed that she was nearing her destination. She powered on.

Whale song, amplified by her ogi, provided the music for her epic quest. Whale-watching was exciting, but it paled in comparison to a human encounter. She flung another glance at the human.

He looked so similar to her people—just with monkey limbs to enable terrestrial locomotion. An image of human feet popped up in her mind—with stunted fingers she thought were quite unsightly.

The sun dipped in the far horizon by the time she approached land. It was an island, with a white beach stretching up to a line of coconut trees. Stars twinkled in the darkening sky, though the stars that caught her attention were of a different nature.

Human lights! Her heart somersaulted.

Outlines of dwellings were clearly visible in the distance, their lights blinking on as she watched. They were identical structures that made her imagination go wild. Even this small island is inhabited! It doesn't look like a village though. Could they be hermit huts? The huts appeared new and architecturally pleasing—much to her surprise. Maybe well-off hermits live here. She wondered if they'd be able to help her human.

Shallow waters were a struggle. Gravity wasn't kind when Dea crawled out onto land, pausing intermittently to pull the human along. She sagged under her full weight, which concentrated on her peduncle and forearms. Lapping waves offered momentary relief while she adjusted to the discomfort.

Now on dry sand, she unbuckled her backpack and slumped down, tired to the bone. Then she raised an arm and watched it shake like jelly.

"Blazing geysers, Gramma. Wish you were here to see this place." Dea couldn't help the weak giggle that burst out when she imagined her grandmother's face. "Holy sea cow. That was insane."

Minutes ticked by as she waited for her breathing to slow. Wind whipped her face, chilly on her wet skin, and she took a long sip from her water bottle, which helped clear her head. Finally, she tilted to the side to stare at the human beside her.

The twilight glow outlined his profile. His features were relaxed into a serene mask, and long lashes curved out from his closed eyelids. He had the kind of face that Hima would say looked "crushable". Who would've thought humans looked quite something up close.

She pushed herself up to scrutinize him. He had a strong heartbeat, and he was breathing. What if he has water in his lungs? Her forehead puckered into a frown. She whipped out her ogi.

Soon after, she had it open like a sea fan. That was when she realized she had no C-wave, let alone seek help online. However, she used the ogi's sound capabilities to check his system. The ultrasound display showed various internal organs, but she had no clue how to assess any damage—at least, they hadn't turned to mush along the way.

She cracked her knuckles and gave him a few chest compressions for good measure—the way they did it in the movies to CGI humans.

He groaned.

Dea clapped a hand to her mouth to suppress a shriek.

She held her breath, but he made no more noise. Another sound did reach her ears, fuzzy on the aural image that complemented her sight. She used her ogi to send out discreet, ultrasonic clicks, even though transmission was poor in the air. Her hands clutched the device tighter as she jabbed at an icon to enlarge the sonar feed.

Shapes popped up. Two humans from the huts were approaching them.

Panic rolled over her. Adrenaline pumped, and muscles quivered. Her eyes flitted over the human sprawled before her. I don't even know his name! She moved her frantic hands over his soggy clothes and found pockets in the lower half. Her eyes widened when she perceived a small mass in one pocket. It turned out to be a foldable case.

Dea's heart thumped louder and louder as she leafed through the wet slips of paper inside. There were also rectangular cards—one displayed a photo of his face. Alien lettering glared out at her. She had a hunch that it spelled out his name and even other information about him. If only I could read these squiggly thingies. This must be the most-used human language here.

Without missing a beat, she pointed the ogi's camera at the card and snapped a photo. Then she shoved everything back into place and turned to go. The leash! Her fingers fumbled on the knots as she untied the long rope of algae. She flung one last glance at the human's face and did a double take.

He squinted at her, eyes almost black in the dark. His features were now drawn into a puzzled frown. A jolt swam down her spine.

She recovered enough to yank the leash off him and stuff it into her backpack. The next moment, she crawled backwards into the water and plunged down beneath the waves.

Dea forced herself to swim. Every nautical mile was agony.

"Flipping insane," she sputtered, stopping for the umpteenth time.

It was as if her body would disintegrate any minute. She fought to keep her eyes open. There was nothing in sight but lapping waves under the star-studded sky. She was suddenly conscious of how alone she was. The darkness made it far scarier than it should be—even more so when it brought to mind stories of ghost mermaids with flowing black hair. Fear bubbled up.

However, it was impossible for her to continue on. Even spyhopping was too much—her flukes couldn't take it anymore.

Dea floated to a logging position, her back against the cold, buoyant expanse of the ocean. Her half-open eyes traced the constellations spread out above her in all their glory. Gentle waves rocked her form and sloshed against her ears, conveying the soothing calls of distant marine animals. She let out a sigh, strangely at peace. Then her mind recalled the human's tranquil face, and her heart stirred.

She pondered the fragility of life and the profound insight into humans she had acquired that day. Who knew human hermits lived in fancy huts? It hardened her resolve to get elected to the Youth Council and someday climb up to the Regent's inner circle. Calliathron's isolationist policies had to go. There was a whole world out there—other city-states, nomad communities and human countries. But I'm probably gonna die out here.

She sniffled and decided to write a last note on her ogi. They should know I died rescuing a cow and a human.

Before she could compose her heroic adventure and last will into words, a dolphin whistle pierced the silence and ruined the mood.

It wasn't long before the water fizzed with a pod of cavorting dolphins.

One animal gave her a nudge, accompanied by clicks she recognized as soothing "words"—as if he knew that she was a lost mermaid far from home. When he circled back to her, she reached out her arms and held onto him, one hand around the dorsal fin.

The rest of the journey turned out to be sort of fun, though her drooping eyes made it hard to fully enjoy it. She even burst into a fit of laughter.

As they zoomed through the water in an exhilarating rush, Dea thought she spotted a metallic glint on a dolphin's back. She expected wilder hallucinations if she didn't get home soon.

After what seemed like eons, the dolphins brought her to the outdoor paddy fields on the west side of Calliathron. She was too woozy to whoop, but her entire being soared with relief.

"Thank you," Dea burbled to the dolphin as she slid off his back.

The pod took off with trills of farewell, their bodies silhouetted against the floodlight of a nearby farmhouse.

Dea drifted over a field of cymodocea, a newer variety that was quite different from wild grass. Sickle-like leaves swayed softly in the current and tickled her trailing arms. When she neared the farmhouse, she squinted against a bobbing flashlight that materialized ahead, aggravating the persistent headache. Urgent clicks bounced off her.

"Miss, are you alright?" a concerned female voice inquired.

"Yeah, I need to...get to the city," Dea murmured as her tired eyes discerned a middle-aged woman.

"Come inside—"

"No, I...I have to go home. Now."

She hesitated. "Hang on."

There was a flurry of movement as the merwoman placed a call about how she found "the missing girl". Her family members emerged from the house, obviously curious about the unexpected visitor.

Dea fainted.

She came to in a moving ambulance, its subtle vibrations filling her ears while an oxygen mask covered her face.

"She's awake!"

Clicks and hushed voices added to the slew of noises.

The object that dominated her vision happened to be her grandmother's face. Furrows etched deeper than usual, making her resemble an ancient sea turtle. Dea was never gladder to see that face.

"Dea?" Gramma clasped her hand. "Oh, Dea! Are you alright, child?"

She managed to nod, blinking against the brightness.

The merwoman burbled about the miracle that brought her granddaughter home. Then she proceeded to lament about the injuries Dea had sustained and how harrowing it was when the search parties failed to find her.

"Gramma..." Dea let out a weak cough.

"Yes, I'm here, little urchin."

"I wanted to ask..."

"There, there," Gramma crooned, patting her hand. "What do you need? I'll get you anything."

She marveled at the words for a moment and how they were uttered. The words seemed odd issuing out of Gramma's mouth. She wondered if the old merwoman also had head trauma.

"Dea, what is it? Tell Gramma what you need."

Maybe I'm dreaming. Her lips formed a hesitant smile. "Where's my cow?"

Location:  High Seas

https://youtu.be/9FqwhW0B3tY