In they go! Ranata flashes the pass she got for the otter's healing. There are themed wings; different environments, divided with glass for civilized coexistence, lit in colors and architectured with coral and plants and populated with fish and mollusks and aquatic mammals and birds and cnidarians and echinoderms and undersea arthropods. There's a show by a woman with a dolphin daemon - keeping real cetaceans in captivity hasn't been allowed for years now, but some people have inconvenient settlements and find the performing arts more appealing than separation or living on a houseboat or trying to finance a home tank, so the general idea persists, in choreography if not in the impressiveness of training across the communication barrier.

There are touch-tanks, where little human hands can pick up starfish and gingerly run their fingers along urchins and unglue snails from tank walls, and there are swim-tanks, where little humans can cross a bridge or creep through a tunnel into central islands surrounded by inhabited water, and their daemons can turn into penguins - or rays - or trout - or eels - or creative little sea-serpents - or otters - and join similarly shaped creatures in capering around. (There are signs up; it is important to turn into a saltwater or freshwater creature, in the corresponding tanks, although exact shape doesn't matter very much. The aquarium is not responsible if some child's daemon provokes an animal and the daemon is pulled farther from their human than they'd like, although none of the tanks in question are big enough to make this more than moderately uncomfortable. Daemons are not to chase, attack, or frighten the animals.)