Flash began to wonder whether K. D. could sense herself becoming obsolete. Her role had changed, at any rate. She wasn’t as matter-of-fact as you might think. Yes, she was a computer, but you may recall that her software had been incorporating more and more of Flash’s own nuance. Her personality had been evolving since they left Earth’s orbit. Since coming down from the mother ship, she had encountered many more people, interacting with them at great length in the museum. Everyone she encountered added to the data she compiled and then in turn, expressed. The new data brought a richness and dynamism that was imperceptible from one day to the next, yet apparent over time. Flash had contemplated this phenomenon in himself, being changed slightly by everything his senses brought into his brain. She was not obsolete at all, but was simply adapting to her new environment.
One day, she attempted to upload her memory banks and transfer them to Earth. This was unsuccessful. She calculated that thousands of years had passed in Earth time since their voyage had begun. One less command in her queue of tasks, and one more bit of information she stored. She would have mentioned this to Flash if he had asked. He didn’t, as he no longer relied on her for information. He could ask, or not ask. The truth was still the truth. Asking wouldn’t change anything but his understanding.
Eeli invited Flash to join him on a trip to Olo’s ocean, and of course Flash accepted.
In the days leading up to his undersea adventure, Flash leafed through the book. He recalled how he and his family had consulted it prior to their arrival on Olo. He read about various structures and life forms he might encounter below the surface. He also learned about the ocean’s dimensions, depths and capacity. Once he and the prince, along with other attendants, found themselves submerged beneath the waves, it wasn’t like he expected it to be at all. It felt familiar in ways that surprised him. The colorful ripples, like the air above, pierced the water in intense beams of various temperatures, based on the hues. Fishlike beings circled in swarms that reflected the light off their bodies in brilliant holograms. They danced in the shapes of whales, mer creatures and dragons, their edges softer, appearing even brighter, set, as they were, against a darker, deeper, uninterrupted background. At first, Flash found himself holding his breath. He did this unconsciously, out of sheer habit. When he at last exhaled, and then inhaled the less dense water, he was refreshed and relaxed.
They had just entered the sea, and already beheld wonders they couldn’t have imagined. Forgive my inadequate description.

The surface still shimmered just above them, a sparkling, rippled ceiling of light.

They hovered there, neither sinking nor floating back up, and Flash felt content. A herd of seahorses rose from deeper water, in a colorful shoal that surrounded them. They formed a ring around the group, facing outwards, the way the mammoths had encircled Flash on the frozen planet. The prince mounted the back of a seahorse, and soon everyone was descending, straddling their submarine steeds.
The water grew cooler and darker as they fell, but only slightly. The light permeated the deepest part of the sea, even into the chasms and trenches.
The ocean floor was bright. Being made of crystal like the dry land above, it captured and reflected the beams back up.