Limitless Evolution As a Snake

I couldn’t reach the control station before the countdown ended, so I gave the deepbell a reason to solve the distance problem with considerably more enthusiasm than the guards expected.

The harness’s local emergency release remained mechanical. It opened the restraint inside the closed water chamber without opening the chamber itself, which was an important difference between helping an animal and replacing the hallway with ocean.

I pulled the lever with two tendrils and got clear of the moving linkage. The deepbell struck the chamber wall with its newly freed body, and the whole rig lurched sideways beneath us.

Both guards lost their footing. One caught the rail, while the other collided with the station steps and dropped his weapon into the flooded drain below.

I used the opening to slide up the service ladder and reach the local control pad. Galaxy Brain kept the correct sequence clear, even while the rest of me concentrated on not being kicked off a ladder by somebody with understandable personal objections.

The actuator engaged. On the outside camera, the stolen controller’s casing buckled as the manual block forced the relief gate open against the rig’s stored pressure.

[System: There goes the resale value, mate. On the bright side, your bed’s still a bed instead of an ambitious fucking water feature.]

I hoped the pillows understood what I’d sacrificed for their continued employment.

Pressure dumped through the relief channel toward open water. Lukas had already backed the sub away after releasing the cabinet from its cradle, keeping solid rock between the cabin and the worst of the discharge.

The forward weapon line lost its charge. Harden’s countdown vanished, replaced by damage warnings that made his face look as if somebody had personally insulted every bank account he owned.

”I thought the demonstration went well, Uncle. We established your machine could break, your staff could fall over and your nephew remained an absolute fucking delight.”

He reached toward another control. I tore the local communication plug from its marked socket with a tendril, ending his picture before he could turn the last word into a family tradition.

The guards still wanted me dead. I wasn’t going to mistake a successful button press for universal surrender, so I slid down the opposite side of the platform while they recovered around the stairs.

The chamber’s pressure display had fallen into its maintenance band. I opened the outer animal gate through the physical release, then moved behind the protected side rail while the deepbell shoved toward the widening gap.

Its body struck the gate once, bent the damaged edge and surged into the sea with enough force to pull loose equipment after it. The rig listed farther as water entered spaces designed for a more cooperative day.

I left through the same lower lock I had entered, closing the inner door before flooding the compartment. Behind me, the guards headed toward the marked escape hatch rather than wasting their remaining time trying to shoot a departing snake.

Outside, cold water closed over my sore body. I swam for Lukas’s sub, followed his running light and entered the little lock while he held the craft steady beyond the rig’s failing pressure plume.

The hatch sealed. Water drained, the inner door opened and I collapsed onto the cabin floor beside a spider who looked at me as though returning alive was the minimum apology he expected.

”If you mentioned the rental deposit, mate, I might actually start crying, and I didn’t think either of us wanted to learn what that looked like underwater.”

He checked the cabin pressure, set our return route and handed me a towel using the sort of careful movement his ribs still required.

Behind us, the rig stopped moving under power. The weapon status remained inactive, the pressure reading continued falling and the deepbell disappeared into open water instead of turning around to join our business partnership.

Only then did Old Mate pay the objective. Ten thousand EXP raised me to forty-seven thousand five hundred toward sixty thousand, and fifty IP brought the balance to two hundred and thirty-five.

[System: Job done, champ. You’ve saved the district, lost the bloody controller and given a fish the best resignation day of its life. Try looking heroic when the camera spots you.]

I intended to look expensive and emotionally unavailable until somebody bought me dinner.

The return dock had already received the service warning and seen the rig’s discharge on its monitoring feed. Workers cheered when Lukas explained that the weapons were off, apparently unaware how much of our rescue had involved me refusing to lose a comfortable mattress.

Bridget waited beyond the dry lock with fresh clothes and an expression that made every clever speech I had prepared seem like a poor investment.

I went straight to her. She held my face carefully, checked that I could answer properly and kissed me before asking which parts hurt.

”Most of the ones I brought with me, sweetheart. The bed survived, though, and I felt that made this an appropriate time to appreciate it.”

She laughed against my cheek, then helped me onto the waiting cart rather than pretending affection could replace basic treatment.

Back upstairs, we cleaned the new scrape along my side and checked the old fin dressing. The damage needed rest, not a dramatic declaration that surviving had made it disappear.

Lukas sent the final hire receipt, which stayed within the amount already paid. I checked Dazza’s holding camera, confirmed the green grid light and sent Bridget the feed so she could see that my other terrible responsibility remained contained.

For once, nobody needed me to steal, fight or explain a smoking piece of equipment. I let myself enjoy the room we had actually managed to keep.

When I finally put the phone aside, she sat beside me on the bed and took my tail gently between her hands.

”I wanted us to talk about something permanent,” she said. ”You could make a joke first if you needed one, but then I wanted the real answer.”