The trading post hummed with energy, crowds of school-agers eagerly browsing all the coming-of-age deals. Off to one side, against a moldy wall dripping from disrepair, Calistya traced the sleek lines of the full-gill, open-ocean enhancement set. Her pretty reflection along the shimmering edges spoke to its quality, adding contrast to the discount district vibe.

“There’s probably something wrong with it. Must be fake,” she whispered to herself.

But despite her surroundings, the merchandise itself was top-of-the-line, unaffordably so, and she knew it. She felt a knot of anxiety as she thought about what it would take to get her hands on it. To have it installed, and to experience the fullness of life it promised.

Everything would change, if she dared make the decision—the most monumental choice any Technoquatic would ever make. No longer could she spend any time in the dry zones, which encompassed some thirty-percent of their city, including all the youth habitats. She’d never be able to walk again, which meant giving up one of her favorite hobbies—jogging along the merchant’s promenade.

But the tradeoffs…the tradeoffs were more than worth the struggle. To be able to glide through the open ocean for as long as she wanted. No oxy-tanks to encumber her, no flippers or quasi-gillslats forcing what should be so natural. No more swim instructors—their own flippers full and strong and marvelous—telling her how she needed to take it slow, stop trying to race the full-ones, and remember that she wasn’t a mermaid yet.

Calistya wished her parents could be alive to see it. She’d never known them. They had passed on during the great dying, at a time when nearly half to population had perished. She’d been at school when she received the word, and before she knew it she’d been placed in a care-community with thirty-four others of various ages and backgrounds. It wasn’t a horrid place, but it wasn’t home, and it wasn’t family. Techno-mers weren’t know for having large extended families, so there simply hadn’t been any place else for her to go.

She often wondered if things might’ve been different up on the surface. There were stories and legends about extended human families up there. Grandparents, aunts and uncles. Hundreds of dancing, running cousins to play with—if the children of the care-community could be believed. Calistya often wondered, since they were so adept at spinning tall tales. But it sounded wonderful.

As life settled down, the great dying passing into memory, then history, some of the children began to get picked up. From well-to-do families looking to be charitable, or couples who’d dreamt of having a child but could not. Offers came from proper homes almost daily. But Calistya, being one of the oldest, was almost always passed over.

She had met with a couple or two, awkward exchanges where she would eagerly tell them about her top marks in school, her dreams about going full-gill so she could ‘help save the seas’ (a vague aspiration she hadn't quite figured out yet), hypervigilantly feeling them out and trying in vain to impress. Then came the realization that she was getting nowhere, plunging her into an anxious silence. She would float there at a loss, not knowing what to say to save things. Her hopeful dream, that they’d suddenly exclaim, ‘You’re perfect. Let’s go!’, would fade into despair as the minutes passed, and they would finally excuse themselves without saying much.

Her best friend in the community, and the one she most counted on when times got tough, was a girl named Khrystal. Not much for school life, this girl was a troublemaker and then some. Always teasing about what she’s going to do with her undersea unicorn once she finds it and catches it and tames it for her own. How that was going to be her ticket to get out of here. Far, far from the school and all it’s rules. Not that there really was such a thing as a unicorn, not in all the seven seas as far as anyone knew. But that didn’t stop her from dreaming of an ethereal creature with a technicolor mane and a flowing tail, ready to carry her away to a safe place.

Calistya asked her once if she’d been talking about a Narwhal — not native to their part of the world, but at least a for-real creature that might actually, you know, exist. But Khrystal was adamant that she wasn’t talking about a fish. That a unicorn was known to inhabit the warm waters of the south, and yes it had gills and could swim and everything else. And it would take her away from here. Then they spent an hour or so making up stories about what they’d do with such a fine steed.

Khrystal was fun that way, and good at keeping Calistya’s mind off of sad things. Things like thinking about her parents, or how much she wanted to escape. Not that it was a terrible, or even a bad place. It was just the loneliness that came with it. Especially at night. When the waters went dark and they had to close up the place from predators, that was when reality really started to sink in. Luckily she and Khrystal shared a common room between their bedrooms, and on non-school nights they could stay up late. So they often shared unicorn stories and whatever other fun topics they could come up with.

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“What’d you wanna do with your life when you’re a fully-grown?” Khrystal asked suddenly one night.

She snapped Calistya right out of her sad reverie with that question, and the mergirl had to think for a minute. Khrystal, being a year older, had obviously given the matter some thought.

“I haven’t thought so much about that, really,” Calistya had to admit, “but I guess I’d like to be a teacher. Help other mergirls with their math and oceanography, that kind of thing.”

Khrystal wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t the finest student.

“Well, what about you? What do you want to do when you get out of here?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Khrystal said with a sigh, “lots of things, I guess.”

“Oh, come on,” Calistya prodded, “there’s got to be something that really excites you. Something special.”

“It’s stupid really,” said her friend, “and impossible anyway, so…”

Calistya moved closer, intrigued.

Khrystal’s voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned closer to Calistya and said, “What I really want to be is a sentry.”

Calistya recoiled at the very idea of a mergirl sentry. It wasn’t exactly forbidden for females to fight. But it wasn’t in their nature, generally, and it was so dangerous. Merfolk were a peaceful lot, by and large, but there was cause for keeping an army. What with all the dangers in the seas, and above, how could they not. But it was usually the boys—once they grew into strong mermen, of course—who went off to fight. But even for them it was a burden, not a pleasure. And Khrystal wanted that?

“Are you serious?” Calistya said, taking in a deep breath and reaching down to blow bubbles into the common pool. “You’d really want to do that?”

Khrystal backed off, looking fairly stricken by her friend’s response. “I didn’t say it was a smart idea. Just a dream is all.”

“A dream to get yourself killed,” Calistya said, “or kill someone else.”

“Oh, come on,” Khrystal replied, “you know perfectly well it’s mostly shark-defense and border protection. That sort of thing. The sentries hardly ever fight head-on any more. It’s just a way to protect the community is all. I think it’s brave.”

“It is brave,” Calistya admitted. “I just never thought you. I mean, what are you going to do, ride in on your unicorn and kill all our enemies?”

The two mergirls laughed.

“Maybe,” Khrystal said. “A sentry’s got to have some kind of steed after all. Not everyone can ride dolphins into battle.”

They started laughing harder, picturing the picture books they’d been given in first year, those old tales of mermen (and women, to be fair) riding off to fight the sea-devils and humans and killer whales with two tamed dolphins underfin. It was a fantasy from start to finish, but it’d been more impressive when they were little, and they’d almost believed those tall tales.

* * *

The two girls discussed full-gill enhancements a number of times. There were pros and cons to either choice, and not every Technoquatic opted for it even if they did quality. There were serious limitations, after all. It was one thing to put on the gear and enjoy the sea, but a whole other matter to have to stay there for the rest of your life.

Little things changed forever. Like how you slept or how you ate. The way you cleaned and groomed yourself. Even bathroom breaks, gross as that sounded. It was just different. You could say it was like becoming another person, really. From a groundwalker to a seaswimmer was no small transition.

“Cali, it’s not all that,” Khrystal would say. “First, you can’t afford it, besides which you have to give up your socializing. You really want to miss out on clubbing with me, when we’re old enough?”

“They have events on the seafloor, Khrys,” Calistya would argue, though she knew her friend had a point. “Anyway, it’s what we were meant to be.”

“That’s just a fairy tale,” Khrystal said, “we were meant to be right where we’re at. And it’s dangerous, too.”

“Not that dangerous,” Calistya said weakly, feeling she was losing the argument. “I thought you wanted it, too.”

“I did, but…”

Her friend didn’t have to finish the sentiment. They both knew the reality, and it was just as true for the both of them. It was crazy expensive, and an indulgence neither could afford. Not as orphans, at any rate. Who was going to pay for some pathetic kids to get the enhancements, when people with actual money were willing to shell out for them?