It was 15 months ago that British Paralympian swimmer, Adam Foster, set off in his attempt to swim the Atlantic, from the Cape Verde islands to Barbados. He was well prepared with the latest ExoMer suit prototype designed for sustained habitation in ocean environments. His arms and legs had been replaced with a body and tail shaped into sensuous curves ergonomically designed to maximize efficiency when traveling long distances through water. He had been fitted with a pair of inflatable swim bladders that he could adjust at will, and which would give him sufficient buoyancy to even sleep in the ocean. Buoying him more than technology were the two gold medals he had earned in the 2028 Paralympic games.

Tragically, just a few hundred miles into his epic challenge, an ocean storm separated him from his support vessel. No evidence of him was found, and he was presumed dead.

Until that is, his chance discovery by a tourist traveling through a remote fishing village in the Republic of Congo.

"The storm was getting worse. I was getting battered by huge waves left and right so I dived deeper, relying on my gills to survive," Adam explains, patting the openings lining his narrow steel torso. "It was calmer beneath the waves but I was swimming blind. When I came back up, the support boat that was meant to be following me was gone. I saw lights on the horizon and made for them. Next thing I know, I'm tangled up in a net and these guys were reeling me in. They took me back to their village and have been taking care of me ever since."

Adam smiles gratefully at the man on whose lap he is perched. The man's hands play with Adam's bulbous swim bladders. Adam blushes. Another fisherman wafts Adam with a fan, while a third lifts delicacies to his lips, freshly caught from the sea.

"So what I think what has happened is they've mistaken me for some sort of ocean-dwelling goddess. They keep calling me Mother Yemaya, whatever that means," Adam says in some embarrassment around a mouthful of caviar. "They kept handing me boxes of pearls and asking me to bless their boats. Well, it seemed impolite not to. When they used me in one of their fertility rituals, I realized something was amiss, but by then it was too awkward to correct them."

Adam pauses to stifle a moan as the fisherman's strong hands caress and squeeze his body. In the center of the village, a shrine is being erected to house their new idol. Adam is unsure if he is being kept as an honored guest or a prisoner. The first time he tried to escape, the villages confiscated his arms. "It took some persuading to get them to give me them back," Adam says, his mechanical fingers stroking the fisherman's chest.

We ask how excited Adam is to be returning home. He shrugs at the mention of his athletics career with the suggestion that the worship of his new attendees is more fulfilling than any paparazzi. He mentions that he is looking forward to seeing his wife again. We are forced to give him the tragic news that his wife, believing him dead, remarried months ago.

Adam reclines comfortably with a smile. "Figures. Maybe I'll stay another month or two then."