▲

     Andy's eyes slid open as his sister nudged him.

     "We're here."

     He stayed, for a moment, where he was, and then sat up with a grunt. The vinyl cushions of the bench groaned and crackled as his weight lifted off of them. Spots danced in front of his eyes as they readjusted to the bright sun. Sadie handed him a bottle of water.

     "Ready to find Atlantis?" She joked, and he smiled at her.

     "I was born ready."

     "God, remember when this thing hit?" She stared out at the island, several miles in the distance. It was still a muddy, disgusting mess, despite the InterSky Council's best attempts to make it habitable.

     "I was in the Flood," Andy said, and nodded solemnly, "I used to free-dive off Baja all the time. I helped seed Keilani Reef with Dad."

     Sadie mimicked the nod, then sat on a bench across from him. She leaned back against the seat, its blue-grey cushions groaning as she spread her arms to either side of her across the back of it. She could feel the ocean spray on her elbows and the backs of her hands.

     "It kept you busy," she quipped at him, "Now that you mention it, you spent close to a year in the water."

     "Yeah, with approximately six inches of visibility," he laughed back, "It's one of the main reasons that we moved to SonaRed." Andy slid his arms into the sleeves of his dive suit. "We should've done that several years ago, anyway." He looked up as splashes began to sound around them from the small fleet of diver transports they'd arrived with. He waved to a couple of people and slid his helmet on. It booted as it connected with his suit, chirping and blinking. The strip of LED lights set behind his nameplate popped on, as well as an internal set meant to illuminate his face. Above water, it was impossible to hear the electronics in his helmet but below the surface it was all he had when no one was on comms. Sadie handed him his visor.

     "You have way too much faith in magnets," she warned.

     "This snaps and locks into place. No magnets. We made that mistake exactly once."

     "Thirty-eight people died."

     "Once."

     Sadie looked at the visor in Andy's hands, then at Andy. He held it up to his helmet and pressed it into place. It locked with a very finite, satisfying click.

     "No magnets," he reiterated. "Everything else? Magnets out the ass." He demonstrated by pulling one of his knives away from his leg and then letting go of it. It reconnected with his calf immediately. Sadie rolled her eyes.

     "I'm just saying, magnets can affect your EMF. How is that not bad for your helmet?"

     "Because it's 2065 and we don't have to worry about that anymore. I'll be fine; I promise." Andy stood and stepped up onto the bench, then the wall of the boat. He turned to face Sadie. "Keep me awake down there."

     "All readings nominal," she replied. Sadie saluted, and he saluted back, stepping backwards off the boat and plunging into the water.

     Andy looked around, spinning a slow circle. Ten of the other fourteen divers were in the water. He couldn't hear them, but he assumed they were finishing their systems checks. 

     "Everything look good?" He asked Sadie, glancing at the HUD on his visor.

     "Dive a few feet and come back up. Let me know while you're doing it."

     He did. Sadie confirmed the check, told him to have fun, and turned her microphone off.

     "All right, my fishy friends, let's do this," Andy heard as the rest of the divers joined Hivemind, "Let's see what this rock stirred up."

     All at once, in perfect unity, the divers began their descent. There was some idle chatter as they dove, speculation about the weather and whether or not the rock would ever be habitable. The general consensus was that ISC would never make it happen. It would be too expensive.

     "One of your fins is notched," Andy said as he reached out and touched Davy's leg.

     "Really? Damn. These are only a couple of weeks old," Davy groaned. He paused to examine the fin–a thin strip of some proprietary graphene that extended from either side of his calf on each leg. When the fins were dry, they curled and hugged the shape of the diver's leg. When they got wet, they unfurled into swim fins. As he stopped, the whole team stopped with him, each checking their fins.

     "I hate this thing. I checked mine this morning," Carver grumbled.

     "It's a safety feature," another diver reminded him with a tone that suggested he agreed.

     The damage was reported, and the team turned back toward the ocean floor. 

     When the meteor had hit it had destroyed the Baja peninsula, caused major flooding miles inland, triggered multiple tsunamis, and allegedly cracked a hole in the seafloor that could only be seen on sonar. The interesting ting about