Page 73 of Music of the Ocean

“Daily, for some. Weekly for others.” Indigo kept his voice low, matching the chamber’s quiet atmosphere. “The kelp regenerates quickly. It is a renewable resource. Please come as often as you wish.”

A frond brushed against Saxby’s cheek. He touched the spot, and his fingers came away glistening.

“That is the tannin compound,” Indigo said. “It will absorb into your skin.”

Saxby examined his fingertips, then let his hand drop back into the water. “I feel cleaner than I have since I arrived. Maybe cleaner than I’ve ever felt.”

“The kelp is thorough.”

The pair near the far wall rose and left. A soft swish of water marked their departure. The membrane at the chamber’s entrance sealed behind them, leaving Indigo and Saxby alone.

The whisper of kelp, the distant hum of the geothermal vents, the subtle pulse of his and Saxby’s heartbeats were all that filled the silence.

Indigo released Saxby’s hand and sat up, the kelp parting around his torso. A current swirled around his shoulders. His bioluminescent markings had reached their peak intensity, casting a soft blue glow.

“The process is complete,” Indigo said. “The tannins have done their work.”

Saxby sat up as well. The fronds clung to his skin for a moment before sliding free. He looked down at his arms, turning them over. “Wow. That’s cool. There’s a faint iridescent sheen. And I’m pretty sure my skin is smoother and more vibrant. I feel like a new man.”

Indigo stood, water cascading from his body. He offered Saxby his hand and helped him to his feet. They stepped out of the basin together. Indigo’s bioluminescence dimmed gradually as they moved away from the sauna’s warmth.

Saxby dressed in silence while Indigo fastened the bag across his chest. When Saxby was ready, Indigo led the way back through the corridor. The temperature dropped, returning to its normal coolness.

The bioluminescent veins along the walls brightened, signaling the approach of midday.

They emerged into the main thoroughfare, which was busy and filled with citizens moving between workstations and communal areas.

The noise level had risen as conversations overlapped, and the sound of tools echoed on the current. There was also the distant music of a performance somewhere on the lower levels.

Indigo paused at a junction, his tentacles curling behind him as he considered their next destination. Saxby stood beside him, his skin still carrying the faint iridescent sheen from the tannins, his posture more relaxed than Indigo had seen since his arrival.

“Where to now?” Saxby asked.

“The biodome,” Indigo said. “The sea lettuce issue that was brought to Callie’s attention. I would like to check on it.”

Saxby nodded. “Lead the way.”

They moved into the current, letting it carry them toward the eastern wing. The corridor widened as they approached the entrance. Warm, humid water washed over them, carrying the scent of growing things and the faint tang of the fermentation chambers.

Callie was crouched beside a cultivation bed, her sleeves rolled past her elbows and a pair of pruning shears in one gloved hand. She didn’t look up when Indigo approached, just kept snipping at something in the water.

“Status?” Indigo asked.

Callie held up a dripping clump of what looked like pale green tissue paper. It hung limp and translucent between her fingers. “See for yourself.”

The sea lettuce had gone soft. That was the only word for it. Where the fronds should have been a firm and dark emerald, they’d turned the color of weak tea, the edges dissolving into a kind of slime that clouded the water.

Three of the six cultivation beds showed the same deterioration. They drained the fourth bed, exposing its white ceramic bottom.

“What happened?” Indigo asked.

Cayman emerged from behind the filtration bank, a tablet in one hand and a sample jar in the other. He set the jar on the workbench and turned the tablet toward Indigo. The screen showed a graph, two lines diverging.

“I can answer that. The pH dropped below six,” Cayman said. “Started three days ago. We didn’t catch it because the automated sensors in bed four were reading the backup calibration instead of the actual water. Bad relay.”

“Three days,” Indigo said, grimacing.

“I’m afraid so.” Cayman tapped the graph. “By the time I noticed the white pits, the carbonate buffer was already shot. The acidification broke down the cell walls. That’s the slime you’re seeing. The plants are literally falling apart.”