Playground

by Richard Powers

So stunning was the Loner’s silhouette as he passed overhead that Evelyne gasped into her air hose. Her gasp turned into bubbles that rose through the water and tickled the manta’s underside. The bubbles trickled upward into his gill slits. The Loner proceeded to cough the air through his branchial filaments and out of his own mouth. The burst of bubbles dislodged all kinds of stuck particles, sending the cleaners into an orgy of feeding. The ton and a half of cartilaginous fish circled back and slowed just inches above Evelyne’s head. Startled, she blew another burst of bubbles. The ray drew them into his gills and blew them back out. There were no more trapped particles to dislodge, but the Loner persisted. What had been a purely functional maneuver became something else: novelty-seeking, or enjoyment of the feel of the air’s caress. The fish banked back around for one more go. Approaching, he studied her with his huge doe eyes. Evelyne exhaled another column of bubbles. This time, the Loner simply swiped at the bubbles with his left pectoral fin for the sheer pleasure of dispersing them. The behavior floored her, although a part of her knew it shouldn’t. Mantas had a brain-to-body ratio far higher than most fish, as high