The dive downward into the murk started out as a bolt for freedom, but elation rapidly faded as the water quality degraded and light dimmed with every inch of travel. Soap was the dominant theme of the stagnant soup, along with bleach that seared delicate gills with every breath. But strength had returned with air once again an option, and the fish drove with increasing power through the murk, hoping for fresh water.
Distance brought no trace of change, nor any current at all, which was even more weird. The mystery was solved when the fish squished head-first into a ball of gunk clogging the drain pipe. It explored frantically, desperate to find a way out of the awful environment, but it could discover no opening. The only option was to arc its body violently and spin back the way it had come.
It drove toward the not-quite-as-terrible water it remembered passing through, gasping and gagging. Almost back to the soapy horror, hoping only to flip out onto the tile and await fate, But on the way, it sensed an opening to the side within the lightless pipe. At least that outlet promised water, and maybe better water. The fish bolted sideways and continued struggling.
As it moved forward, the murk steadily cleared. Better breathing allowed stronger swimming, and escape from misery provided all the motivation needed. Finally, as the water had mostly cleared, the pace could relax and relief could set in. The fish swished at a calm pace, considering what other option it might have. The environment was still a black void, albeit a watery one, no worse for the moment than a slight residual chlorine flavor and itch. It wondered what it might find further on, hoping for some option that would be better than turning back through the muck behind.
And amidst these ruminations, it burst through the water's narrow surface, still without light and now without a way forward. The clog had maintained only so much water in the pipes, and the only wet option was backward. Loath to go there, the fish also wondered whether it could even manage to twist around and turn back in the space of the narrowed pipe.
As it bobbed there, considering options few and bad, a roar above brought down cascades of fresh water to crash against the surface where the fish floated After surviving the first turbulent blast, the fish determined that the unknown ahead seemed preferable to the known horror behind, and it feared the new flow would somehow dissipate before it could be used. The fish summoned all of its restored strength and drove into the torrent.
To the faint chlorine flavor was added a definite and quite familiar element of algae, encouraging effort to move toward freedom. After wiggling through a curvey space of mild obstruction, the fish noticed light ahead and pushed toward it. Up it popped into a deep sink, the bottom a jumble of glassware, tubing, random metallic bits and pieces -- and rocks! Good old familiar rocks, just like out in the bay, each one with its thin coat of algae.
The fish felt its spirits rise at this familiar element among so much that was so strange, yet it wondered with increasing concern as a hand reached down from above to raise each rock in turn above the water's surface, then scrub off the green coating and replace it. Why interfere with such a normal and beneficial process? What would the vegetarians eat, if the algae were removed? The questions swirled, as the fish hovered in the familiar soup of algae that accumulated.
The only answer that emerged was new questions about the loss of precious cover as the hands now began grasping each rock and removing it, then returning empty to remove more. Growing alarm at its increasing visibility led the fish to another courageous leap. Seeing no other escape, and trusting the luck that had brought it to this momentarily comfortable place, it wriggled into a crevice in one of the remaining rocks and wedged its fins against the sides as best it could.
Almost immediately, the rock rose in its turn up out of the water, draining and dripping, and soared in the grasp of the hand through the air and toward a tank a short distance away. The fish clung to any ridge it could find, but ultimately it lost purchase and slipped, fortunately as the rock came to hover over the safe surface of the tank. The fish dived sidelong out of the way as the rock plunged to the gravel bottom and was twisted into place there. The fish found cover in a nearby plant and waited for the upheaval to subside.
Rocks soon quit plunging from the sky, and no more arms reached in to threaten the peace of the tank. The fish stirred behind its foliage and risked a slow peak out. A voice announced, "OK, the tank is cleaned. I'm outta here, so you can start your observation." The one human form receded into the distance, and another loomed forward. Movement stirred in the tank, and the fish noticed three others like it emerging from various cover. The nearer voice called out, "Thanks! Anything new I should know about?" The first replied, "No, just the three of them battling for turf, as usual. Everything's back in its correct spot, so their boundaries should stay pretty much the same." The sound trailed off for the last of that line. "Wait," the second voice called out. "You said three of them?" The distant murmurred response seemed affirmative in tone.
The fish moved back toward the plant where it had sheltered as two of the others noticed it and circled in its direction to investigate. The human face leaned just to the glass of the tank.