The Abyss Surrounds Us by Emily Skrutskie

I’m out in the water with him and he gets rowdy, it’d be handy to have someone on deck who could throw him a signal.
    â€œHow do you make it change?” she asks, her hands already prying at the switches.
    I take a knee and slap her fingers away from the controls. “Opcode. Basically throwing down the right switches. You memorize the switchboard and hit the ones that give the right command.” I can’t show off every combination without confusing Bao, but I’ve had the board memorized since I was ten. “First switch is the basic ‘come’ command. It’s the easiest to key in, so someone can bring in a Reckoner and put them to rest no matter what.” I flick off the other active switches, and the LEDs flash with the homing signal.
    A plume of steamy breath jets from where Bao floats, and the pup swims right for us, the water cutting in a neat V-shape around his snout. When he reaches the beacon, he knocks it once with his nose and then tilts his head back, his mouth hanging expectantly open.
    â€œToss him a reward,” I press, elbowing Swift.
    She reaches into the bucket, pulling a face as she squelches a fish in her grip. Then she straightens and holds it out over Bao, her other hand resting casually at her hip.
    The pup’s eyes flick upward.
    â€œWait—” I start, but there’s no time for warning. I leap for Swift and wrap my arms around her waist. She shrieks as I haul her backward. Bao lunges.
    He surges halfway out of the sea, his eyes bulging, his razor-sharp beak snapping shut with a wet crack . His body slams against the trainer deck, sending a tremor through the metal floor below us as we hit it. Bao bounces off the rim of the deck and slips back below the waves, bellowing once before the water closes over his head.
    Swift lies paralyzed beneath me, the pulpy remains of the fish stuck to her hand. It’s fallen on the deck in two pieces, cracked in half by the sudden impact. But her hand’s still there, not down Bao’s throat, so at least something’s gone right for a change.
    â€œI said toss ,” I hiss through my teeth, my face pressed flat against the deck.
    â€œSorry,” she groans.
    â€œDo you have to taunt every living being you come across?”
    â€œI think you broke something.”
    â€œAt least you’ve still got your arm,” I spit. “Moron.”
    Swift claps me on the back with her gut-soaked hand. I elbow her in the stomach and roll off her, landing flat on my back.
    And then somehow we’re both cackling. Not the quiet chuckles at each other’s expense that we’ve shared from time to time, but the raucous laughter that comes from sheer relief and the adrenaline in our blood gradually slipping away. A flush fills my face.
    Swift catches my gaze, and she laughs even harder. “You look like a tomato!” she crows, trying to wring the slime from her hands.
    â€œAt least I don’t snort when I laugh,” I wheeze between breaths.
    This only makes her snort harder. She picks up half of the fish and throws it at me. It hits me in the shoulder with a wet slap. “You’re so good at it—why don’t you give him the fish?”
    I sit up, ready to leap on her again, but then the second half of the fish comes flying at my face. “Jesus Christ, Swift!” I yelp, swatting it away.
    â€œYeah, that’s right, here’s your uncivilized pirate wench,” she cackles, rolling on her side and pushing herself to her feet.
    A bellow from the water marks Bao’s impatience. I pull a fish from the bucket and pitch it out into the sea, not caring where it lands.
    As I sit there, taking in the bright world around me and the damp deck beneath me and the blood that’s rushed to my face, I finally take stock of what’s just happened. I was in a situation where I was completely safe, where Bao couldn’t touch me. And I threw myself headlong into his