Page 72 of Music of the Ocean

Three other people were already in the basin and partially submerged in the kelp. A tall woman with silver scales, a long snakelike tail, and spikes along her spine lay on her side, the fronds draped across her.

A pair of young adults—one with long, thin fingers and huge, black eyes, the other with a ridge of spines along their forearms and calves—sat near the far wall, their heads tilted back as the kelp moved around them.

Indigo recalled the stiff, self-conscious posture of previous humans in this communal space and guided Saxby toward a more secluded alcove. There the kelp grew thicker, forming a natural curtain that offered a semblance of privacy from the other bathers.

Nudity did not bother most citizens. That seemed to be mostly a human affliction.

Once inside the enclosure, Indigo sat down the bag that had Saxby’s new outfit and motioned for Saxby to remove his clothes. Saxby did, but his movements were tentative. He set his folded dirty clothes aside and stood at the basin’s edge, looking down at the swaying kelp.

“The temperature is higher here,” Indigo said. “The kelp traps geothermal heat from the vents below. It will feel strange at first, but your body will adjust.”

He stepped into the basin. The kelp, its surfaces slick and faintly rough, brushed against his skin as he sank deeper. They reached his chest, then his shoulders. Turning, he held out a hand to Saxby.

Saxby took it and lowered himself into the basin. His eyes widened as the warm water enveloped him. He inhaled sharply, then exhaled in a slow stream of bubbles.

“Lie back,” Indigo said. “Let the kelp support you.”

Saxby leaned backward. The kelp gathered beneath him, forming a cradle that held his weight. The fronds draped across his chest and legs, moving with a gentle rhythmic pressure.

Indigo settled beside him, the kelp adjusting to accommodate both their bodies. He noticed Saxby’s expression shift from surprise to something softer, his mouth relaxing into a slight curve.

The fronds curled around Indigo’s tentacles, the tannins already working. A subtle tingling sensation crept along his skin as the tannins broke down the accumulated oils and dead cells. The heat helped loosen muscles that had been tense since the Federation confrontation.

Saxby closed his eyes and tilted his face toward the domed ceiling where steam collected in swirling patterns.

“The tannins,” Indigo said. “You will feel them soon.”

A soft sound escaped Saxby’s throat. It wasn’t quite a moan, but close. “Already do. It tingles, but it’s good.”

The kelp continued its work as the fronds shifted and rearranged themselves with each subtle movement of the water. The tannins released in invisible clouds, turning the water a faint green. There was an earthy and sharp scent, like crushed leaves and warm stone.

Indigo watched Saxby’s face. The tension that had lingered in Saxby was easing, his muscles softening as the warmth and tannins did their work. The new ridges along his neck caught the light, the gill slits fluttering in a slow, steady rhythm.

From his position, Indigo saw the woman with silver scales rise from the basin and snake toward the exit before disappearing through the membrane.

The pair near the far wall remained, their conversation a low murmur that blended with the soft hiss of the kelp and the distant rumble of the geothermal vents below.

Indigo sank deeper, and the kelp closed over his shoulders. The tannins intensified, and the tingling spread across his chest and down his arms. His bioluminescent markings brightened as the blue glow pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

Saxby’s hand drifted through the water, his fingers brushing against Indigo’s. The contact was light, almost accidental, but Indigo turned his hand and laced their fingers together. Saxby’s grip tightened, then relaxed.

They lay like that for several minutes as the kelp moved around them slowly and steam thickened near the ceiling.

“Your skin,” Saxby said, his voice drowsy. “It’s glowing brighter.”

“The tannins interact with the bioluminescent compounds,” Indigo said. “It is a natural response.”

Saxby opened his eyes and turned his head. “It’s beautiful.”

Indigo’s tentacles stirred beneath the kelp, the fronds shifting to accommodate the movement. One tentacle curled around Saxby’s ankle.

Saxby smiled.

The kelp continued its work, and the fronds grew more active as the temperature rose. The tannins deepened the water’s color, turning it from pale green to a rich, golden brown near the surface.

Saxby’s skin had taken on a subtle sheen, the dead cells sloughing away in invisible particles that drifted upward with the current. The new ridges along his neck caught the light differently. The surfaces were smoother, more defined.

“How often do people come here?” Saxby asked.