I grab and dawn the head seat and take a deep breath and say, “Okay computer, run simulation 2-9-1.”

As I open my eyes, I see the crystal blue waters of the ocean. Above me are memorizing patterns of small waves. Off in the distance, a small boat with a diving opening on the bottom bobs and sways in the playful waves. Looking down, I can see the vibrant spread of a coral reef below me. The bright green of lobe and yellows of elkhorn, to the deep blues of organ pipe and dossal tones of the slab corals, punctuated by the rich reds of the anatomies and precious coral, all mixing and interlocking with each other. Gazing out into the waters, different schools of fish are rendered each interacting much like they would in the real ocean.

My avatar sits nearly stationary in the water. My hair moving slowly in front of my face with the blond strands with purple tips dancing up and down. Taking a breath, I take in the feel of the water and take stock of how much these VR computers have come the past 15 year. Before only the view can be seen now, but now, I can feel the water, and dampness.

I reach back for my dive backpack. I can feel the waterlogged fabric in my hands. Opening it, I can make out of the items all needed for my mission in this simulation. Waterproof headlamp and notebook, underwater pens, a tablet with tablet with shore-link and built-in sonar. A pack of 24 self-inflating temporary buoys and a hundred odd meters of thin-rope.

Putting my hands in I can not only see the webbing up to my second knuckles on my hand. Grabbing the pen and notebook, not only does the webbing stretch and bend with the objects, but I can feel the notebook and pens in my hands and pressing against the webbing of my fingers. I grin widely feeling the flexing of the webbing even though outside the haptic gloves, they don’t exist. It is quite amazing how it feels.

Looking over the rest of my body, I can see my actual body anywhere not covered by the simulation, mostly on my face and torso. Moving down, my skin give way to lush blue and purple scales around where my hips should be. Below which my legs disappear into pectoral fins and a long purple and blue scaled tail lays waiting to be used. Resting my hand over them, I can feel my hand on my virtual fluke and my scales on my hands. With every exhale I feel water pouring off of my sides attempting to simulate having my own gills. I cannot help by stop and admire this mermaid body every time I run this program.

After a couple seconds of bliss, I open my notebook to the first page. I sigh as I read the same words for another time over again. Not that I worry it would have changed, but having to do so to continue the simulation and begin my mission.

“Using the sonar, metal detector and visuals; locate and mark using the buoys, any and all mines in these waters, 500 meters from the support vessel.”

I swim forward, kicking my legs in real-life lightly, but feeling myself be thrust forward as one by my mermaid tail. Something that feel so alien, yet so right. The water flowing fast across my streamlined digital body. Within seconds, large forest of spheres begins to be rendered suspended in the water. All of the spheres at varying heights in the sea, yet, all nearly the same uniform size. Almost like a flower without any leaves, yet none of these are natural. They are deadly leftovers from war nearly a century ago, sea mines.

Quickly, I make my way to the first mine closest to me. The exterior encrusted with barnacles, clams and other sessile sea life overtop its spherical shape. It could be easily mistaken for a rock had it not been floating in the ocean of off the seafloor by a rusty chain. Grabbing my pen and notebook, I jot down the location from the boat. Stowing away the notebook, I pull out a self-inflatable buoy from the kit. I maneuver around the mine, finding a spot to secure the buoy. Once secured, I pull the pin on the air canister and the balloon like object rises to the surface. Stratified with my work, I swam off to the next mine in the mine field forest.

One after another, I swim to each, making sort work having memorized each of the mine locations by heart at this point. I mark each one location down in the notebook, attach a buoy, watch it float up to the surface, and move on to the next. I make short work repeating the same steps until I’m down to the last buoy.

23 mines marked, yet something seamed off. I had 24 markers. ‘Does 2-9-1 does it use all of the buoys? Am I mine missing?’ I wonder to myself looking over the sea of danger. Frantically, I swim back to each of the mine locations, double and triple checking my work, that each was marked and noted. Having seen each one having been marked and buoy floating upon the surface, ready to be lifted and disarmed. I must be wrong about how well I memorized this simulation.

Eventually, with a sigh, I put away the last buoy in the kit and toss it into the backpack and swim up to the diving hole in the support vessel. Kicking my way up into the air, water splashing. Slowly I can see naval personal reacting to my presents.

“Are all the mines located Lieutenant?” an elderly man asks wearing a Commander’s uniform, much to clean pressed, all way to perfect and put together for real-life.

“Yes sir, Commander,” I say with a salute.

“Alight, we’ll pull up anchor and get the sweepers in to clean up. Great work Lieutenant,” he says in a cheery voice.

My face drains instantly. “A... anchors up?” I studder, immediately realizing the ending; the bad ending.

My suspicion was correct, there was one more mine to clear and it was right under the anchor. Not much longer than realizing it, the water begins to bubble instantly. The suit becomes uncomfortably hot and then the screen goes dark and the suit cools off.

“Fuck!” I yell whipping off the headset the guide wire catching it from being tossed far from me, “How do I keep forgetting about the God-damn anchor mine.”

“Calm down, Rachel,” the technician says as he lowered me from the suspension rigging, “it’s one of the hardest ones we have.”

“I know Boris,” I say whipping off the hepatic glove.

I slowly wiggle out of the suit, reviling my human self in not much more than a bikini on. As I get past my hips I wince as the suit pulls on a small patch of purple and blue scales on my outer thighs. I sigh looking at him, “It’s just I have only 6 more months to get this right.”