I could see for brief moments that my self-control changed her face, as if my restraint was as strange to her as her existence was to me.

She mentioned a name that I cannot pronounce, nor can her nature be reproduced with the Spanish alphabet or any known to man. "Syphilxhs" is the cleanest word I could hear from what her lips uttered, but the truth is that her name consisted of nuances that I could barely comprehend, as they were more akin to vibrations than words.

I tried to talk to her, as only my curiosity could overshadow the intense attraction I felt towards her, but the conversation was mostly dominated by her questions about our civilization. She didn't ask random things and didn't seem ignorant of human history. It seemed more like she wanted to fill gaps in modern history that she knew nothing about.

As a marine creature, I quickly understood how she could be aware of human milestones like the Industrial Revolution; her aquatic civilization must have witnessed advances in maritime transportation, which, from using human force, evolved into being propelled by sophisticated machines. It also made sense that she knew about other events like world wars, which she referred to as the "Great Human Wars," as her people likely witnessed the mobilization of large warships and the installation of sonars on coasts worldwide.

From this point on, my encounter with the mermaid becomes strange because she asked about the causes and consequences of the "Third Great Human War." The mere mention of it left me paralyzed, as I could not fathom the magnitude of her statements. The mermaid spoke of a war beneath the earth and in the depths of the water where large man-made machines had been causing explosions all over the planet. She mentioned this believing that my ignorance was temporary and that her explanations would make me remember the great event she was talking about, as it had happened in "recent times." But she fell silent immediately when she saw my bewilderment and understood that I had no idea what she was talking about.

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She then asked about the thick ocean cables that crossed continents. Somehow, she knew that their purpose was to transport information, but she was curious about the kind of uses we humans gave to such an invention.

She also intrigued me with her interest in global politics, mentioning great powers like the United States or China and their constant efforts to establish "united government." She spoke about birth control, mass influence, and other topics that conspiracy theorists often discuss, but she had no doubt about their existence; she simply wanted to know what procedures were being "applied to humanity."

All her questions fascinated me, and I answered as dignifiedly as possible, believing myself to be some kind of ambassador between our civilizations. Later in the conversation, I tried to get answers from the mermaid about her world, but she refused to share her knowledge. She first wanted me to give her a surface book. She didn't ask for anything specific, just something I believed would be suitable for her. Its language, complexity, or theme didn't matter. She didn't explicitly say it, but I understood that she mastered any human language. The mermaid wanted to read it, and if she liked it, she would return the next day to talk about anything I wanted.

The decision was not easy. My book collection was mostly composed of fiction, which seemed inappropriate for someone who undoubtedly wanted to know more about human reality. I also didn't think it was prudent to share my school science books. The Spanish subject crossed my mind due to its cultural content, both from our country and the language itself, but I finally decided to give her a History of Mexico book that I had kept from my primary school days. I didn't want to approach the water to hand it to her, so I simply threw it to her from the pier.

The book entered the sea as if the water did not affect it, then she smiled at me before submerging again.