Free Starfish by Peter Watts

Still." Other words, muffled, as Scanlon spoke to someone else. Fischer felt something vibrate softly in his chest. The bubbles grew larger, then smaller. Then disappeared.
    Scanlon was back. "Better?"
    "Yeah." Fischer didn't know how he felt about this, though. He didn't really like having a chest full of machinery. He didn't really like having to breathe by chopping water into chunks of hydrogen and oxygen. But he really didn't like the idea of some tech he'd never even met fiddling with his insides by remote control, reaching into his body and messing around in there without even asking. It made him feel—
    Violated, right?
    Sometimes Shadow was just a bitch. As if she hadn't been the one to put him up to it in the first place.
    "We're going to kill the lights now, Gerry."
    Darkness. The water hummed with the sound of vast machinery.
    After a few moments he noticed a cold blue spark winking at him from somewhere overhead. It seemed to cast a lot more light than it should. As he watched, the inside of the tank reappeared in hazy shades of blue-on-black.
    "Photoamps working okay?" Scanlon wanted to know.
    "Uh huh."
    "What can you see?"
    "Everything. The inside of the tank. The hatch. Sort of bluish."
    "Right. Luciferin light source."
    "It's not very bright," Fischer said. "Everything's sort of like, dusk."
    "Well, it'd be pitch black without your eyecaps."
    And suddenly, it was.
    "Hey."
    "Don't worry, Gerry. Everything's fine. We just shut the light off."
    He lay there in utter darkness. Floaters wriggled at the corner of his eye.
    "How are you feeling, Gerry? Any sensation of falling? Claustrophobia?"
    He felt almost peaceful.
    "Gerry?"
    "No. Nothing. I feel—fine—"
    "Pressure's at two thousand meters."
    "I can't feel it."
    This might not be so bad after all. One year. One year...
    "Doctor Scanlon," he said after a while. He was even getting used to the metallic buzz of his new voice.
    "Right here."
    "Why me?"
    "What do you mean, Gerry?"
    "I wasn't, you know, qualified. Even after all this training I bet there's lots of people who'd be better at this than me. Real engineers."
    "It's not so much what you know," Scanlon said. "It's what you are."
    He knew what he was. People had been telling him for as long as he could remember. He didn't see what the fuck that had to do with anything. "What's that, then?"
    At first he thought he wasn't going to get an answer. But Scanlon finally spoke, and when he did there was something in his voice that Fischer had never heard before.
    "Pre-adapted," was what he said.

Elevator Boy

    The Pacific Ocean slopped two kilometers under his feet. He had a cargo of blank-eyed psychotics sitting behind him. And the lifter was being piloted by a large pizza with extra cheese. Joel Kita liked it all about as much as could be expected.
    At least he had been expecting it, this time. For once the GA hadn't sprung one of their exercises in chaos theory onto his life without warning. He'd seen it coming almost a week in advance, when they'd sprung one onto Ray Stericker instead. Ray had been in this very cockpit, watching the pizza being installed and no doubt wondering when the term "job security" had become an oxymoron.
    "I'm supposed to baby-sit it for a week," he had said then. Joel had climbed up into the 'scaphe for the usual preflight check and found his friend waiting by the controls. Ray had gestured up through the open hatchway to the lifter's cockpit, where a couple of techs were busy interfacing something to the controls. "Just in case it screws up in the field. Then I'm gone."
    "Gone where?" Joel couldn't believe it. Ray had been on the Juan de Fuca run forever, even before the geothermal program. He’d even been an employee , back when such things were commonplace.
    "Probably the Gorda circuit for a while. After that, who knows? They'll be upgrading everything before long."
    Joel glanced up through the hatch. The techs were playing with a square vanilla box, half a meter on a side and