125.
    As we danced, I glanced across the room to see a sailor walk up to captain Beatrice and whisper something in her ear. A look of alarm crossed her face. She quickly walked over to Conrad and me, took us by the arms and escorted us discretely out. Two sailors followed with the dogs. “We’re in trouble.”, muttered the captain. “We’ve drifted into a pod of sleeping CEOs.”

   We crested the stairs to the deck and were confronted by an obscene vision of naked, bloated goons floating on their backs in the moonlight. They appeared to be human in shape but there was something intangible about their pale, flabby, deeply inhuman forms. “We must get you safe before the Catamites find out about this. They attack any CEO on sight.”
   One of the sailors appeared with our bags. “Put them in a lifeboat and off the ship before all hell breaks loose!”, the captain commanded in a hoarse whisper. “We are not far from our destination.” She slammed a compass into my hand. “Row southwest and you’ll reach the island of Komodo. We have relatives there.”
   “But we can’t just leave you here.”, I pleaded.
   The captain turned to me. Her frown melted and she put a hand to my cheek. “We are capable of defending ourselves, my dear.”
   They moved us quickly and quietly. Any attempt at questioning them or even thanking them was silenced with a stern glare and a shake of the head. As they lowered our boat into the sea, the captain gazed down over the rail at us, blew us a kiss then looked heavenward and genuflected.