She said, the song ambled through Ramses’ thrumming head, I know what it’s like to be dead. I know... and it trailed sharply, leaving The Beatles’ next statement unsaid. He still held Milo as tightly as he’d ever held anybody before, and Milo held him. So they were both conscious.

Being alive for the moment gave great hope.

The galactic spiral slowed.

They had no idea how far they’d been sucked.

Part of Ramses’ mind was about to play with that thought but the majority of him corralled away from it to consider how likely it was they’d open their eyes and be surrounded by sharks.

Sharks and seagulls were cut from the same cloth, always on the lookout for convenient meals.

My stomach is around my spine, Ramses thought. He opened his eyes. It was darker here than it’d been a few seconds ago.

Oh lord, Milo thought, appealing half-heartedly to Zeus who was still living it up thanks to crafty reimaging as the God of Our Fathers who Art in heaven. Getting Apollo to agree to the whole sacrificial son thing had been tough.

Apollo, not so big on piety but very big on bazooms.

Milo motioned a circle with a finger. They unslung their rifles and floated back to back, then kicked to begin their journey upward.

Things in Atlantis weren’t necessarily smarter, as they were cooperative. Sharks tended to scout for themselves but they’d report back to recruit help depending on the size of the prey.

A little ways off, a shark performed a lazy u-turn away from them.

They weren’t so deep they couldn’t make out the sun, but they still had a way to go.

After the shark disappeared something appeared out of the gloom and moved quickly toward them. It grabbed them by a wrist each and zoomed them to the surface.

Milo and Ramses peeled the coverings from their faces.

Swim toward your ship, it thought, planting the direction in their heads, then dove smoothly under.

After a minute or so it surfaced ahead of them.

I own you now, humans.

It took them less than a second to realize this was the dragoon that’d been following their ship.

There were thirteen of them prodding Leviathan, giving detailed impressions of you. Days ago. I tried to warn you. You pulled guns on me.

“Maybe you need to work on your methods,” said Milo, sputtering away from the waves.

True to Desiree, the Ann appeared in the distance.

They pulled flares from the barrels of their guns and shot skyward.

“Why are dragoons suddenly talking to people?” asked Milo.

You caught one of us.

“It wasn’t intentional.”

You don’t understand. We’re always taking bait from fishermen, we just never get caught. It’s a matter of pride. We’re waiting for you to become extinct, you know.

“And your dolphin cousins?”

They’re kind of stupid, but they’re still playing you for your fish. I just killed four sharks for you. A long bony spear quickly shot out from a knot above its eyes.

Dragoons got defenses.

I think I’m part of your team now.

“This isn’t a game,” said Ramses.

The dragoon wrapped him with its snout and spun him. It must be since you’re the only ones who think it’s important.

Milo nudged it away with his foot.

Linda Ann was nearly on top of them. She slowed enough for a skiff to hit the water like a skipped stone. Ambriel and Vulva were on board.

The dragoon sank beneath the waters.

I’ll be around, it said before leaving them with a single request: Call me Death-mael.