You’re probably crazy, but you start swimming toward the sea serpent and the strange glowing dome. The monster watches with huge eyes unblinking until, apparently satisfied that you’re cooperating, it twists to dive alongside you. Iridescent scales speed past. Realizing it will leave you behind, you grab one of its pectoral fins.
Your arm nearly jerks out of its socket, water roars in your ears, and the tank slides from your grip so quickly that you only manage to save it by wrapping both legs around the cold metal. Your eyes burn with salt water, but you can’t bring yourself to close them. Beneath the dome’s glow, you’re sure you see buildings and, even better, some of the moving shapes look the right size to be human.
If, by some miracle, people live in this strange structure, you might find your love living with them.
Then you see it: a shimmering oval edged in white, clearly some sort of entrance into the dome. Even better, the oval is nearly transparent, so you can see the people within pointing at you.
Eagerly, you push away from the sea serpent and start toward it—but the serpent’s tail whips around you in tight coils. It drags you down another twenty feet as you writhe in its grip, then releases you alongside a second dome, this one a hundred thousand times smaller than the first. It, too, has what looks like a doorway marked with a thin green glow. Inside, all is dark, but you glimpse a flash of white that looks disturbingly like teeth.
The serpent’s immense head butts against you, pushing you to the door.