‘And I’ve been putting up with you ever since.’ Ophelia keeps a straight face, but she gives her husband a quick wink.
Luca laughs. ‘That much is true. By the way, Ana, your mother was a brilliant Dolphin captain. She would be very proud of you.’
This isn’t the first time I’ve heard someone talk about knowing my parents. But it’s strange to think of Luca and Ophelia and my parents as teenagers – swaggering around Harding-Pencroft together during their senior year like they owned the place, just like Dev does today … Or like he did before the attack …
I try to murmur Thank you. It comes out more like ‘Unk.’
I set down my fork, hoping nobody notices my trembling fingers.
Of course Nelinha does. ‘SO, LUCA …’ She draws his attention with a volume level worthy of Ester. ‘How many generations was your family at HP?’
His eyes gleam. ‘Since the beginning. We were recruited because of my ancestor’s work on internal combustion.’
Nelinha’s expression of interest dials up a few notches. ‘Wait, your ancestor was Eugenio Barsanti? The guy who created the first internal-combustion engine?’
Luca spreads his hands. ‘Many famous families have been associated with HP for generations. The school needed the best minds to replicate Nemo’s technology! But surely this is no surprise. Your class has a Harding, a Dakkar …’ He glances at Gem. ‘Your surname is Twain, isn’t it? Wasn’t there a famous American author –？’
‘No relation,’ Gem mutters. ‘Anyway, that guy’s real name was Clemens.’
‘I see.’ Luca sounds vaguely disappointed, like he had wanted an autograph. ‘At any rate, each generation must prove its own worth at HP, as I’m sure you will!’
Around the table, my classmates’ expressions turn glum. I imagine they’re thinking the same thing I am. How can we prove our worth if HP no longer exists?
Maybe we would have made house captains some day. Maybe we would have found love among our peers, the way Luca and Ophelia did （though, frankly, I have a hard time imagining that）。 Maybe we would’ve had brilliant careers.
There’s no way to know. Four days ago, our futures were blasted off the side of a cliff.
Ophelia picks up on the change of mood. She sighs in exasperation. ‘Ah, Barsanti.’
Luca looks confused. ‘What did I do?’
I get the feeling Luca is the type of guy who would cheerfully skip through a minefield and somehow come out unharmed on the other side, while Ophelia would tear her hair out and chide him for being careless. I have no trouble imagining them being friends with my parents. They are just the right combination of caring, adventurous, brilliant and eccentric.
‘If we’re done eating,’ Ophelia continues, ‘perhaps our guests can help us clean up. Jupiter does the cooking, but he does not do dishes.’
She puts us to work. Nothing like scrubbing lasagne pans to put your problems in perspective. After the kitchen and dining area are spotless, most of the crew heads back to the Varuna for the night. The ship has been cleaned and resupplied, so my classmates will be comfortable enough. Besides, the base doesn’t have enough beds for everyone. I’d prefer to go back with them, but Luca and Ophelia have asked me to stay in the base’s guest room. It has two sets of bunk beds: enough space for Nelinha, Ester and me. Nelinha brings my go bag ashore along with her own.
Gem looks torn, like he wants to take the fourth bunk so he can guard me.
Yeah … That’s not going to happen.
‘I’ll be fine,’ I tell him. ‘Take care of the crew on the Varuna, okay? We’ll see you for breakfast.’
He hesitates. ‘Just be careful.’
I’m not sure if he doesn’t trust our hosts, or just doesn’t trust life in general. After our recent experiences, I can’t blame him either way.
Ophelia shows us to our room: a simple stone chamber with the bunk beds and not much else. I try not to dwell on how much it looks like a holding cell. For the first time since leaving HP, I sleep in a room that doesn’t rock and sway.
This only makes my nightmares worse.
I dream of drowning, which isn’t like me.
I’m trapped with Dev in the Harding-Pencroft security office, deep beneath the administration building. On multiple monitors, we watch torpedoes racing towards the base of the cliffs. Dev yells into the PA system, ‘Major threat. Need everyone to EVACUATE. I –’
The room crumbles around us. The floor breaks like a sheet of ice. Monitors and control panels explode. The ceiling collapses. We tumble into oblivion.