Page 6 of Claimed By the Deep
She shows no cruelty. Months of observation reveal only competence, determination, and solitude that echoes mine. When storms drive others to shelter, she remains afloat. When regulations force dangerous compromises, she adapts rather than surrenders. She survives as I survive, shaped by circumstances neither of us controlled.
Her detector guides her to the cargo hold, where she uncovers silver serving pieces that will command reasonable prices from her antique dealer associate that I’ve heard her speaking to on the radio.
Trust develops reluctantly for her. Another commonality between us.
As she collects findings and prepares to ascend, larger vessels of red and white register on my awareness. Distinctive signatures of authority craft approach. The Coast Guard has located her again, and even from below, I detect her sudden tension as she realizes her predicament.
I could assist her. My abilities would easily create distractions, confuse their instruments, ensure her untroubled escape. But such intervention would provoke questions I cannot answer. Better to remain concealed, observing as I have for decades.
She manages the encounter skillfully, deflecting suspicion and avoiding charges that might destroy her livelihood. Her quick thinking impresses me, along with her ability to control fear without surrendering to it. When the Coast Guardvessels finally depart, her relief mingles with frustration. This encounter will complicate future salvage attempts, forcing greater risks or alternative locations.
Storm systems intensify overhead as she returns to harbor. I follow at safe depth, maintaining undetectable distance. Swells grow and skies darken, promising severe conditions that keep most humans ashore.
But she will return. She always comes back to these waters, drawn by forces similar to those binding me here. The ocean beckons us both, offering solitude and challenge in equal measure.
As her vessel disappears toward the harbor, I settle onto a sandy substrate and evaluate options. Our shared dreams intensify nightly, and soon she'll question their origin. Human minds create elaborate explanations for experiences defying rational understanding, but such self-deception has limits.
What happens when she discovers the truth? When she comprehends that the tentacled being from her dreams actually exists, inhabiting waters she considers her workspace?
Most humans would retreat in terror. Evolutionary history conditioned them to fear unknowns, avoid entities contradicting their conception of natural order. Yet she differs from her species. Her defiance toward authority, willingness to work alone in hazardous environments, apparent comfort with the ocean's more forbidding aspects—these suggest she might responduniquely.
Or perhaps I delude myself, projecting desperate solitude onto someone incapable of accepting my reality.
Storm intensity increases above, driving me deeper where currents carry surface world whispers. Tonight she'll dream again, and I'll be present, sharing visions increasingly tangible with each encounter. Perhaps tonight I'll reveal more of myself, testing whether her sleeping acceptance might extend into conscious awareness.
Or perhaps I'll continue as before, content with borrowed moments of connection that temporarily ease the vastness of isolation between worlds.
The ocean envelops me like a familiar embrace, dark and welcoming yet empty of companionship except for dream echoes shared with a woman unaware of my existence.
But awareness approaches.
Soon, circumstances will force our meeting, and I'll discover whether decades of isolation continue indefinitely or if redemption awaits through a human who challenges depths with determination mirroring my own.
An idea materializes, strange yet compelling. I've witnessed her delight in small treasures recovered from wrecks. The spark in her eyes when the detector signals discovery. Satisfaction radiating when she surfaces with objects sustaining her peculiar human economy.
I know where greater treasures lie. During decades traversing these waters, I've documented dozens of shipwrecks, observed precious metals and gems scattered across the ocean floor. Itemsbeyond her reach, resting at depths that would crush human physiology or in crevices too narrow for her equipment.
I could deliver these gifts that I have found during my long time alone. Position them where her searches would naturally discover them, arranged as though currents had conveniently deposited them. She would never suspect deliberate placement—humans excel at constructing rational explanations for impossible coincidences.
This approach feels right in ways I cannot articulate. On Agual V, courtship involves presenting rare minerals from abyssal trenches, offerings demonstrating both devotion and ability to provide for offspring. Perhaps the human custom of valuing recovered objects serves a similar function in their mating practices.
Yes! I will court her as my species courts, with gifts resonating with human conceptions of value and beauty. Tomorrow, when she returns to these waters—and return she will, regardless of storm conditions—she'll discover treasures exceeding expectations.
I watch tempests rage above while settling deeper into darkness, planning initial offerings that might span the impossible distance between our worlds.
Meridian
FOUR
Ishould have listened to the damn weather warnings.
The morning started promising enough—clear skies and light winds that made yesterday's Coast Guard encounter feel like a bad dream. But by the time I reach the coordinates, the swells are building and Deep Pockets' barometer is dropping faster than I'd like.
Still, I'm already here. And after yesterday's close call with LeBlanc and Ross, I need to make this dive count.
I drop anchor and run through my equipment check twice, taking extra care with every connection and seal. The water looks darker today, more ominous, but that could just be the cloud cover moving in from the northeast. According to the marine forecast, I've got maybe three hours before the weather turns ugly.
Three hours to find something that makes this risk worthwhile.
