George had learned at the Science Academy that Wonderdome’s population was about half a million sea elves. There had never been so many sea elves in existence in the oceans of Zorethea as there were at that time. Wonderdome was what had made that population explosion possible. Within Wonderdome, the capital of elven culture, magic, and science was impregnable and unassailable and had been for over a millennia. There were still other non-domed cities of the sea elves in other places in the ocean, living as the elves originally had before the erection of the dome, as many elves in the Wonderdome suburbs outside the dome did also, but within Wonderdome, the elves could develop inventions, technologies, and magics without the interference of the shark people or any of their other traditional enemies in the ocean. Since Wonderdome was unassailable by force, the Kraken Cult had had to infiltrate it from within. They had eventually corrupted even Prime Minister Moray and other officials in

“You remember that word I used before, kid? Kaiju?” asked Yörg. “Yeah,” George responded. “She’s big enough to be one now,” he said, indicating the Kraken Mother, Sirena’s true form. “I see why you called the gladiator bots just wannabes.” Sirena, or the Great Kraken Mother at that moment, had wrapped herself around the Genetics Institute building, taunting the forces Wonderdome had mustered to confront her. With half a million sea elves, and being the center of their civilization, Wonderdome was home to many powerful sea elven mages who had arrived on the scene to do what they could against the eldritch horror that had been hidden amongst their citizenry, disguised as a geneticist working in the very building she now clung to, for several years. The Kraken Mother shared the same magic resistance that the goo-infected gladiator bots had, so the mages of Wonderdome were not having as much effect as they had hoped. George, Maverick, and Yörg surveyed the scene. In addition to the

What else could go wrong? George thought. Suddenly, a very welcome voice came into his Robot Jockey helmet. “I’m safe, George! Starstorm got me out of there. He used a Wand of Illusion to make the cultists think they were being raided by General Crabshell’s men, creating a diversion. We took the elevators down to the first floor lobby. I found a learning pad that was already running so I didn’t need the owner’s password to call you. I’m safe!”“Thank the gods!” he responded.He took just a moment to look away from his helmet’s presentation of a Maverick’s-eye-view of the world and look down from his balcony and across the plaza from his own viewpoint. Sure enough, he could see a lone figure running out of the first floor entrance at the front of the building. Fortunately, there weren’t any Mother Kraken tentacles covering that door. From this distance, without Maverick’s magnification enhancement, he wouldn’t be able to see a tiny, flying p’ckit dragon, or Starstorm could be riding in

“Where are we going, Pilot?” George asked the AI. It was morning, an honest-to-goodness morning. The sub was cruising at a shallow depth that was sunlit. For George to wake up from a long sleep and see sunlight through the sub’s front viewport was a subtle, yet powerful reminder for George that Wonderdome was gone. Wonderdome had had the Three Periods: Work, Family, and Sleep. The surface world had day and night. “We are headed to an island in what surface world maps refer to as the Untamed Seas.” “Why? What’s there?” “My files do not contain that information. I apologize for any inconvenience that may cause.” Well, that’s a dead end, George thought. “Maybe this will help,” said Stingray as he rose from his own bunk area and stepped over to the front viewport with George. He brought with him a scroll made from Wonderdomian sea grass paper. “Nereia made me promise to give it to you. She had already written it out before I arrived. She called me to her deathbed.” “Deathbed?” “W

Once again, George thought of calling Yörg, but he still waited, thinking the irrepressible staff might draw fire at them, either intentionally or unintentionally. Of the four of them that were there without Yörg, George and Stingray were prone and not the targets of bullets that were flying well above them. Starstorm had opted to sleep in his pocket dimension, saying something about air conditioning on humid nights. Maverick, however, when he had powered down, had been sitting. In the dark, in the moonlight, his hulking form looked like a statue of some kind. It drew some fire. George could see sparks on Maverick’s exterior when bullets struck him. He didn’t think those rounds had any penetrative power against Mav’s armoring, but he’d want to do a visual inspection with adequate light to be sure. He was glad that Maverick’s powered down rest hadn’t included a pre-set condition upon which to auto-wake, such as being attacked. Maverick would need to be manually reactivated. Even if h