No sooner had they departed Athens and made their way to Ithaca, did they feel the ship’s prow turn and spin, and their oars paddle helplessly in the air; they looked below; a whirlpool had formed underneath them by a giant mouth; and, against the whirlpool, there was an immense rock, upon which Scylla rested.
The sailors rowed; the philosophers thought, musing, which is worse, a rock or a hard place? Finally they were free from Charybdis, the awful whirlpool, and, sword in hand, faced the terrible Scylla. Now Andy and Gary could satiate their desire to know what Scylla was.
As was discovered, Scylla was merely a very hairy woman. She had used mimicry on her arms to act as if she had a belt of dogs around her waist.
Would you like to meet my people? Scylla asked.
Come again? Andy replied.
Would you like to meet my people, the Atlanteans, Scylla repeated.
Who could resist an offer like that?
Scylla directed them to the other side of her rock, which hid a long, tube-shaped ship she called a “diving pod”. The vessel plummeted deep underwater and into darkest sea, for it was strong enough to withstand the abyss’s intense pressure. The windows of the ship conveyed whales, dolphins, sharks, schools of fish; then morays, lanternfish, anglerfish; then dust, then clouds of sand, then darkness; it was darkness for a long silence, as long as a breath; then a shining white light, thin as a thread, pored through the corner of their eyes; the city, in a pearlescent bubble, emerged from the dark; the tube pierced the bubble, then was absorbed by it, and the crew entered the streets of Atlantis.
All of the Atlanteans were like Scylla: tall, hairy, with stooping gaits and big feet. Indeed, in some parts of the world they were called sasquatches.
Andy and Gary had only seen sasquatch bones before. To the rest of the crew, this was about as much as they expected from the outside world.
Atlantis was a cosmopolitan city. It hosted Lemurians, who were scaly, Muyans, who were half-dog, and Ysians, who had wings. A multiethnic delegation gave the crew a tour around the city.
In the courthouses, they saw judges judging all equally. What about social hierarchy? the gadfly cried. There is none, the Atlanteans answered.
In the palace, they saw a wise king issuing edicts. Why is there no show of force? the know-it-all cried. It is not needed, the Atlanteans answered.
In the workshops, they saw all kinds of ingenious inventions were built from undersea materials. But don’t the machines make life overcomplicated? the exile cried. Not at all, the Atlanteans answered.
In the mess halls, they saw citizens eating freely and dancing. Shouldn’t they abstain from temptation? the despondent cried. And be rid of all life’s joys? the Atlanteans answered.
In the academies, they saw students exchanging ideas and proposing corrections to old ones freely. Isn’t there a standard definition of truth? the thinker cried. The world is the truth, the Atlanteans answered.
In the churches, they saw disciples affirm their faith in ways that did not ally grace to a closet set of beliefs. Isn’t happiness contingent solely on belief to the one true deity? the prophet cried. There are no contingencies to happiness, the Atlanteans answered.
Rather than feeling shame and humility from the Atlanteans’ contentedness, the crew suspected there must be something wrong with them – there must be, for example, some poor child bearing all the burden of their happiness, for happiness, they reasoned, must come from a trade, as if it were a commodity one bargained with the universe – and shut their souls to any further questions.
This is nice, Andy and Gary said. They then popped the bubble of Atlantis with a needle.
This was Atlantis’s single flaw. They did not forge needles, and they never conceived anyone popping the bubble.
What? Andy and Gary answered the stunned eyes of the crew. There is no Atlantis in the future.
The Atlanteans heard, to their horror, the groan of the ocean’s weight and its darkest waters falling, as if the ceiling of the universe itself collapsed; they saw, with their eyes, great floods of water rushing in, as if they were roaring serpents, snapping their great white teeth; darkness covered the brilliant whiteness that they once called sun; they fled to their homes, their stores, their places they called shelter; but the waters, simply, swept them all away, and in a second Atlantis was nothing but silence on the sea floor.
Andy and Gary had hurried the crew into Scylla’s diving pod, escaping the carnage. The crew gave an exhalation of relief: thank goodness those heathens were given unto death! What would have happened had their poison penetrated the seas, entered the cities of the earth?
© 2025 Jay Lee