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Even after three years, I’ll never get tired of the view. Surrounded by nothing but a vast, blue sea. It’s an entire universe below the surface and arguably a greater mystery than the one outside our planet.
The moment we came to a stop inside the center, I took her straight to the small kitchen so she could sit down for a minute. She’s already exhausted, and I want to hurry this along so I can get her back into bed.
“I wouldn’t say that,” she says, brushing off the compliment. She’s been sipping on a glass of water while I spoke, listening to the longest days of our lives wrapped up into thirty minutes.
The rest of my research team has gone home for the evening, leaving just the three of us to talk freely.
“I would,” Troy retorts confidently.
I would, too.
Uncomfortable with the attention, Sawyer sets down her cup of water and stares up at me.
“I’m ready to see the rest,” she declares.
Troy claps his hands, rubbing them together in excitement, with a wide, ecstatic smile on his face.
When I had V.O.R.S. built, I wanted it exposed to the ocean as much as possible. Meaning eighty-five percent of the center is pure glass. Nothing short of a nuclear bomb could destroy this place, but it’s easy to feel like you’re in a death trap when submerged in something that wields significant power.
I grab Sawyer’s hand and lead her out of the kitchen and toward the main room. It’s a short walk down a hallway, then we hang a right, coming out into the massive area.
Sawyer gasps, her eyes wide as she slowly walks into what feels like the open ocean.
It’s where the team and I conduct our research. Most of the area is filled with desks loaded with monitors and equipment. Part of the job is tracking the sharks, taking measurements, and studying their maturity levels and behaviors.
When we’re not out diving, we spend most of our time staring at computer screens.
“Holy mother of shits,” she breathes, earning a chuckle from Troy.
Her head swivels back and forth while she twirls on her feet, unable to settle her round eyes on one thing.
A school of bluestripe snappers comes into view to our left, and in seconds, her face is against the glass again, watching the little yellow fish swim by.
“Oh my God, it feels like I could reach out and pet them.”
I grin. “That was the idea.”
She turns back to me, her eyes rounded with child-like wonder and her pink lips parted.
“What if a megalodon swims by right now? Can it break this shit open?”
I arch a brow. “I’d like to see it try.”
Troy shudders. “I wouldn’t.”
“Do they still exist?” she asks, brimming with excitement.
“It’s not impossible,” I tell her. “In my opinion, the likelihood is high. Sharks have been around for millions of years. They’re adaptable, and I believe they found a new way to survive.”
“I want to see one so bad,” she says, turning back to stare out the window. “I want to see mermaids, too.”
“Some would say they are scarier than the megalodon,” I tell her.
“So they are real?” she breathes.
I shrug, smirking when her breath fogs the glass. “Not impossible.”
“So fucking cool,” she mutters before getting distracted by a clown fish and scrambling over to the other side of the building where it swims.
