Through Fields of Green

Back in the submarine, Ray was configuring the autopilot, setting detailed instructions for every possible situation.

"Don't ascend over... When the temperature reaches... If a creature bigger than a dwarf whale is located... change the route. No, better notify..."

Incoherent muttering blended with keyboard clacking. The cabin was alive with calming hum of the engine, a soft rattle of oxygen globes, a tick-tack of the pressure gauge. While the world behind the portholes flowed silently, measuredly. It often appeared to be as desolate as outer space but was actually full of life.

A lone swordfish glided by, resting before a hunt, its long beak and lean scaleless body glistening. Twenty nautical miles later a shadow covered the entire porthole. A wide pale sunfish gaped into the ship. It floated like a massive misshapen moon of the sea. Every so often a school of shiny mackerels would pass by, either coasting along or scurrying away from a fat greedy tuna.

Ray finished tinkering with the control panel and went to check on his pet.

"Have you missed me, Angie?"

An ethereal translucent slug with bright orange spots visible inside its squishy body stirred in the aquarium, flapping its wings and extending its head tentacles.

"Excited to see me? Who is the prettiest clione in the entire ocean?"

Angie drifted up to the surface, graceful and languid, swishing her tentacles around, as if demanding to be presented with a worthy feast.

"So impatient! Wait, darling, I need your help first," he plunged his finger into the water, tickling his pet. "Hear me out.
"The plan is to chart the fastest route to Atlanopolis, hit two or three closest stops along the way to ask after Coral and restock on food."

Angie swam in a circle, requesting a meal more suitable than his oily fingers.

"Aww, are you worried about me? Should be fine. As long as I don't mention that job," sigh. "I might also have to pick up a simple gig at some point. What a drag. But we never know when we'll need shells to exchange for information. And I'd rather not risk using the chip. So no premium butterfly sautés for you!"

The clione lost interest and dove back down to play with kelp.

"Traitor! You always picked Coral over me. But I get you. I miss her too. Her reassuring smile, her brassy laugh, that lack of tact. When the signal vanished, I just..."

Ray scrunched up his face.

"The next time we meet, she'll scold me for overthinking. As usual. Okay, Angie, feeding time!"

He went to grab the jar of sea butterflies and looked out through the window. Swirls of brightly colored tiny fish danced in the current. Vivid splashes of yellows, greens, and reds repeatedly clashed together and burst outwards, creating an enthralling display of underwater fireworks.

"At least the ocean outside remains beautiful."

***

The next day Ray arrived to Sunken Arbors, a small farming town squarely under the influence of Neptune BioWorks.

"I've loitered around the docks for half an hour, and not a single ship arrived. It should be fine by now. I don't plan on mentioning their dirty job anyway."

He sauntered along the outskirts of the city. Rows upon rows of seaweed and kelp stretched out under carefully arranged greenhouse domes, swaying gently in the water. Every tint and shade of green, from dusky and muddy to pale and creamy, interspersed with rare strokes of red or pink. Each genetically modified strain catered to, greenhouse environment carefully matching its preferred conditions.

Tending to those crops were similarly altered humans, another creations of Neptune BioWorks. They, on the other hand, didn't get to live under perfect conditions. Instead, they were modified to better suit the harsh underwater ecosystem. Fitted with gills, webbed hands and feet, enlarged lungs, and hollowed, more flexible bones, these new humans could survive and work underwater as efficiently as the true children of the sea. Yet on the city streets they weren't as welcomed.

"The idea of an exclusively green diet gives me goosebumps, but I won't find a cheaper deal compared to buying straight from the farm."

Ray went down the descending path, getting closer to the swaying seaweeds, and went inside a sturdy, unassuming building next to the greenhouses.

"Ahoy? I won't take much of your time!"

A tall guy with a timid smile came out from one of the doors. "Are you here about the farm?"

He wore a high collar, but Ray could still see them. He was one of the breathers.

"Nothing official. I have one hell of a long journey ahead of me and couldn't pass up a chance. Any serendipitous excess left after the latest harvest?"

"That..."

"Can pay in shells," Ray brought out a couple of triangle coins. "And I don't need that many. Would be thankful for any amount you're willing to spare."

Ray kept on radiating the biggest and brightest smile while the guy chewed on his lip, glancing around and tugging at his collar.

"I can sell you about one libra of wakame, half a libra of dried feather seaweed, and a couple helpings of sea grapes. A hundred sh-"

"A hundred fifty shells should be enough, right?"

The guy stared until Ray cocked an eyebrow at him. "Ah, sure. If you would wait outside, please?"

It didn't take long. He came back with the sea vegetables carefully wrapped in a rough green algae paper.

"Here is your... order."

"Thanks a bunch! Never ceases to amaze me how even the paper looks delicious."

The guy finally returned Ray's smile.

"Till next time," Ray held out his hand.

The other hesitated, wiped his palms against the tunic and accepted the handshake.

***

Ray walked around the town some more, asking about his sister. But not many people were out and free during this time. And no one he talked to could remember seeing the woman fitting the description or any other visitors of note.

He sighed. Another wasted day, with no sign of his sister. Was he getting closer? Or was she drifting farther away? Already beyond his reach? Ray shook his head. He was doing his best, he went through numerous scenarios in his mind. Not once, not twice. He succumbed to the desperate temptation daily. There is nothing else to do but chase through the ocean, from one small hint to the next.

He should grit his teeth and exercise patience until he reached Atlanopolis.

"Just you wait, Coral. I already came up with the perfect menu to celebrate your inevitable rescue. No one can brag about knowing your favorites better than me."

Angry shouts full of sharp curses erupted from a nearby street. Ray turned the corner, searching for the source of the commotion. It might be nothing but a drunken brawl. Or it might be a godsend chance to gather some information.

"You dirty tadpole."

A loud thud. A muffled whimper.

Or it might be a more urgent matter. Ray quickened his steps.