Deep Connections

In this story, titled ‘Deep Connections’, takes place long after an environmental catastrophe forced people to migrate to the deep sea, where humans have perfectly adapted their bodies and lifestyles to the harsh conditions of their new home and created a thriving society in the deep. Drone technology allows them to collect natural resources without using violent extraction methods and also performs most manual labor tasks. The deep-sea dwelling people use their free time for ambitious research projects and to actively care for their environment, strengthening their emotional and spiritual connections to it. This story follows a protagonist who wants to contribute to their beloved community by going on a dangerous mission to the surface, but also yearns for the approval and moral support from their partner, who ultimately agrees to follow them to the sunlight zone. 

“Today is the day, I can feel it in my bones.” We are sitting on the floor of a dimly lit laboratory, our backs resting against a huge tank filled with microbes swarming around a recreation of a hydrothermal vent. Researchers have been working to convert energy derived from chemosynthesis to electricity for years, but haven’t quite mastered it, yet. The lake outside of the window seems especially vast and mysterious this evening, with its mussel beds stretching along the shores and the bodies of small fish, who dared to come too close to the brine, floating on top of it. Nervously, I am fidgeting with my partners nearly translucent hands “my god, you are in desperate need of a tan”, I try to cheer them up with a joke from another time, before we adapted our bodies to life in the deep sea, but Lux can’t even crack a smile. I can hear the sound of music and laughter from a feast our community is having; it echoes through the interconnected rooms and halls, from the heart of the city all the way to the lower edge, to us.

“I just can’t understand why you volunteered to do the most dangerous job I can think of. No one has been to our offshore processing plant in decades, who knows what happens to you if you decompress to go to the surface?” Although I feel guilty about leaving Lux and our tightly knit community for a while and certainly regret missing out on a dinner of giant isopods and frilled shark on sea lettuce, I am set on my departure. The offshore plant I am supposed to visit has reported unspecified errors. Like all manual labor, the work at this plant is done by drones, which have produced parts for our technological equipment from ferromanganese nodules ceaselessly for decades, until now.

Even though these drones are the backbone of our economy, I find them incredibly dull. Of course, I have to admit that I’d rather have them pick up the nodules on the endless abyssal hills or search for places where oil and gas naturally seep out of the rock, than doing it myself, but still. The great benefit of using this technology is that we no longer depend on violent extraction methods, we can roam the deep virtually to find the resources we depend upon. Apparently, the downside is that there can be complex errors which have to be inspected in person. So this is what I will do, for the good of this community … and maybe because I have lacked a sense of purpose lately. 

Lux interrupts the rambling of my mind “Also, I am reading some poetry about the interdependence of humans and ‘other than humans’ on-stage tonight, I call it the duet against dualist conceptualizations’, you can’t miss it! It reminds me of us as children, how we would practice holding our breath for many minutes to swim with the grenadiers in our aquaculture enclosure, feel the currents and try to taste all the components that make up the water. Or the time we found the octopus and tried to learn from her how to think with our arms and legs,a conversation between our bodies and the world, replacing analysis with intuition. I think you would feel better if we would go out there right now!” They are visibly excited, it’s hard to tell if the sudden glow is radiating from the photophores covering their body or their large eyes, flawlessly adapted to the dark, glistening with anticipation.

I am not ready to walk down memory lane right now, so I am thankful to hear the faint voice of one of our elders from the main hall, telling the famous story of the first humans to venture into the deep. I let my head rest on Lux’s shoulder and we listen quietly. “When resources on land could no longer satisfy the demand for fossil fuels, rare earths and metals, people looked to the sea floor. Oil and gas were found close to tectonic plates in motion, just like our beloved hydrothermal vents, the basis of all life in the deep. But the humans of the old days were disconnected from nature and had no remorse destroying something before they even knew what it was, before they knew its immense value.

An especially foolish project to drill into the heart of an underwater volcano seemed guaranteed to fail, and so it did, causing the most destructive eruption the world has ever seen, filling the air with toxic smoke, clouding the sun, making the upper layers of this world uninhabitable. With no other place to go, the first of our kind descended into the abyss…” With some surprise I notice that even this old re-telling is tugging on my heartstrings. I do feel a sense of pride when I think about our people, arriving in a world so different from their own, cold, dark, under so much pressure and seemingly empty. But instead of trying to conquer it, they decided to learn from it, adapt to its circumstances, appreciate its beauty and be a part of it. 

I should attempt to make Lux see the situation from my point of view. “Listen, I want to contribute to this community more, I want to be useful, someone great. Think of the people we remember. The ecologists who studied deep sea organisms to understand which genes allowed them to survive here. The anthropologists who fought to prove that genome editing was ethical and allowed us to not only survive but thrive in these waters. The oceanographers who realized that the natural resources we need were not only buried in the earth’s crust, but could be found without a drill, albeit in small quantities.” I glance over to Lux, who seems to be startled by my slightly too passionate monologue. I am in too deep, so I continue. “Your job is valuable! When you travel to the nodule fields after our drones have collected all there is to collect and you replace the nodules with stone structures and redistribute larvae of sponges and other species that should live there, you are giving back to nature, and I need to give back too.” Lux lets out a deep sigh which seems to contain all their frustration and slowly rises to their feet. “Well then, let’s get moving. What exactly is your plan?” … 

I feel all my nervousness melting away as I listen to Lux humming a song next to me, steering the transport drone away from our city. From a distance the metropolis reminds me of a lit-up starfish, clawing into the hills it was built upon. When we slowly ascend the slopes of the hydrothermal vent, I have to remind myself to treasure this moment, to take it all in. The vents are sacred in our culture and people are only allowed to be near them under special circumstances. It is almost unfathomable to me, how such little organisms, feeding off nothing but sulfur or methane spewing out of the vents, are then food for the tube worms, shrimps and mussels around them, which in turn will be fed to the fish in our aquaculture farms, which then … Just before I can get stuck in my head again, I turn to Lux to ask if they are thinking the same. “I guess its human nature to be fascinated by our surroundings and seek answers… To the pursuit of knowledge, humanities highest calling” Lux exclaims, raising an imaginary glass, their voice dripping with irony. Our laughter echoes through the darkness. Finally.

Credits: 

The text of this story is the copyright of Hannah Marlen Lübker. This image is the copyright of Elias Stern and reproduced with permission.