I study the captain’s chair.
I’m sure the new Florentine seaweed-leather upholstery will be comfortable. The purple mood lighting around the base is a nice touch. The armrest controls seem simple enough: place hands on globes, hope the Nautilus responds.
But this chair is still where my ancestor died. His body sat there withering for 150 years. This is the central altar in the Dakkar family mausoleum.
I have to make it more than that. I have to make this a living, working ship again.
I take my post. The chair’s padding sighs as it presses against my back.
The flurry of bridge activity dies down. Everyone turns, waiting for my commands. I feel like a little girl playing pretend, the way Dev and I used to do when we were small.
‘Nautilus,’ I say in Bundeli. （In case you’re wondering, the word is notilas. Huge surprise.） ‘I need access to all systems, please. Our crew is on board. We’re ready to get underway.’
From the organ comes a soft middle C. Then an octave up, another C joins in, and then an octave below, until it sounds like an entire orchestra tuning itself. The volume crescendoes. The hull rumbles. Floor plating vibrates under my feet. Around the bridge, previously dark dials and gauges blink to life.
The organ falls silent.
‘Okay,’ Lee-Ann mutters nervously. ‘That was different.’
Nelinha’s voice crackles overhead from a metal speaker shaped like a daffodil. ‘Ana, you did it! Looks like we’ve got full power. And that red button for super cavitation? It’s glowing now!’ There’s interference on the line as she has a hasty debate with her colleagues. ‘Yeah, I know, I know. We won’t push it.’
‘Stand by,’ I say. ‘All we need are basic thrust and depth control.’
I realize I’m not even sure Nelinha can hear me. I grip my armrest control. ‘Is this thing on?’
My words boom from speakers across the bridge, reverberating through the ship. Thanks a lot, Nautilus.
‘Engineering?’ I try again. This time, there’s no Voice of God echo.
‘Oh, yeah,’ Nelinha says. I can hear the smile in her voice. ‘We’re all awake down here now.’
I try to remember my commands and operation procedures. I really wish I had paid more attention to Colonel Apesh’s one lecture on submarine protocol last fall.
‘Helm?’
‘Aye,’ says Halimah.
‘Dive?’
‘Aye,’ says Lee-Ann.
‘Comm?’
‘Aye, Captain.’ Virgil uses the title without a trace of irony.
‘Weapons?’ I ask Gem.
‘Uh …’ He stares at his console. ‘I mean … aye? Short-range Leyden guns, maybe. And this button apparently electrifies the outer hull, but whether it works or not –’
The panel sparks, shocking his fingers. ‘Ow! Okay, sorry, Nautilus. Weapons, aye.’
‘Right.’ I can’t believe I’m doing this. ‘Lines free. Hatches sealed … Helm, take us out. Ahead slow.’
‘Ahead slow, aye,’ Halimah says.
The floor shudders. A wake swells over the great domed windows. We begin to move.
‘Yes!’ Virgil cheers.
Halimah and Lee-Ann give each other a fist bump.
I can’t celebrate quite so easily. I’m afraid my next command will expose thousands of leaks in the sub and get us all drowned.
‘Engine room,’ I say, ‘rig for dive.’
‘Engine room,’ Nelinha responds, ‘rig for dive, aye.’
‘Weapons room,’ Dru Cardenas reports. ‘We are secured, Captain.’
‘LIBRARY,’ Ester’s voice announces. ‘DITTO.’
‘Library?’ I look around, realizing for the first time that Ester is not on the bridge. I guess I just assumed she would follow me.
‘Well, I have to be somewhere,’ Ester says. ‘Besides, Jupiter brought maple scones.’
Top barks, rattling the speakers. He’s probably saying, Yay for orangutans!
‘Ester, to the bridge, please,’ I say. ‘I need your help reading the ship.’
‘Aye, Captain.’ She sighs.
‘And bring me a scone?’
‘Me, too, please,’ says Virgil.
Halimah, Lee-Ann, Jack and Gem all raise their hands.
‘Six scones,’ I say.
‘Six scones, aye,’ Ester says. ‘Would you like any espresso drinks with that today?’
I can’t tell if she’s kidding. ‘We’re good, thanks.’
Though a café au lait would be … No.