“Right—correct,” Misty said. They heard two things then: the sound of the steward reaching the floor above, where they’d come through before sliding down, and the distant ringing of Klaxons, reverberating through the ship. The door opened behind them.
Three more crew members in navy-blue uniforms turned the corner they were headed for. No good.
Gabriel saw a door coming up and burst through it as they left their plan of escape behind.
The new corridor was dark, lined with pipes and dripping with condensation. They didn’t hesitate but just kept running. They skipped the first door they passed and took the second, which led to another ladder.
They shimmied down a yard or two and stopped, listening. Distant footsteps. Misty hung on to the rail above him and looked down, whispering, “What do you want to do?”
“It’s gonna be tough to get back to the lockout trunk,” Gabriel said. “We’re already well forward of it.” The door they had given up had been their best way back.
“I agree,” she said.
“I have to admit,” Gabriel said, “I don’t really know where we are.”
“What about Peter?”
Of course. Gabriel nodded. Keyed his mic. “Obscure, this is Gabriel.”
“Obscure,” Peter answered. “Are you on the way?”
Gabriel whispered as Peter’s voice echoed in his earpiece. “We’re still on the sub. We’re gonna need some help. Do you still have the schematics of the Alaska?”
“Yes,” Peter said. “What’s up?”
“We’re at…” Gabriel looked around him as he hung on the ladder. He looked up at Misty with a shrug.
“Wait, I got something,” Misty whispered. She climbed a few rungs until she put her hand against a stenciled label on the inside of the ladder. “Aux 329, level D.”
Peter exhaled, narrating. “Okay, okay. You’re about seventy feet forward of the lockout trunk.”
“Is there any other way out except the lockout trunk?”
Peter scoffed in Gabriel’s ear. “Not unless you’re hoping they surface, and you can sneak out the top.”
“Okay, you’ll have to guide us because we can’t go the way we came.”
Peter paused. “Man, the things you get up to. O … kay. Okay. I got it.”
The door opened above them. “We’re moving down,” Misty said. “Tell us on the way.”
“Good, descend three levels and enter the door marked level A,” Peter said.
“Stop!” shouted a sailor above. Gabriel looked up past Misty and saw a man looking down at them. For a moment, Gabriel was afraid the guy had a gun, but then he remembered that only certain security personnel carried pistols on a nuclear sub. It was just too dangerous. But they might well run into such a person.
“Okay.” Gabriel reached the door Peter had mentioned, Misty dropping next to him. They both straddled the ladder, standing on the thin platform that circled around it. “We’re going through the door.”
“Good, now hightail it ten yards or so until you see the third door on your left.”
They were running, and Gabriel’s voice rattled in his throat. “Okay.”
“You’re gonna step into a general passageway now,” Peter said. “It’ll be busy. Go left and follow the signs for the galley.” The galley was an enormous kitchen that served everyone on the sub.
“What, what?” Misty said, urgency in her voice. “It’ll be crawling.”
“Do you want to get to the lockout trunk? This is how you get there,” Peter said.
They put their backs to the door. Breathed. “We’re gonna get caught,” she said.
“Nope.” Gabriel shook his head. He couldn’t believe that. And he didn’t.
Misty hissed, “Are you suddenly a head or two taller and a hundred pounds heavier? We can’t slide under everybody.”
Gabriel shook his head. They were going to get off this ship, and if it meant they had to go through a kitchen full of people, they would. Think.
His eyes rested on a fire extinguisher bolted to the wall. Misty followed his gaze and tilted her head for a moment. Then she yanked it from its clasps, hefting it in both arms.
“Can you pull the pin?”
Gabriel jerked the metal pin out of the top of the extinguisher, and Misty struggled to hold it, one hand on the handle, the body of it resting on her hip. She held up her free hand as she put her back against the door once again. Gabriel slapped her a high five. Time to go.
They burst through the door, Misty swinging the extinguisher out in front of her.
There had to be forty people in the hall, but they were lost in the cloud of carbon dioxide that Misty shot at them as they ran. They moved forward in a thick mist as sailors coughed and collided with one another.
Keep moving. Keep moving.
Into the galley. Gabriel took it in as they kept running, the carbon dioxide filling the air. He made out long stainless-steel counters and felt the heat of great steel cauldrons boiling. Galley stewards coughed, slipping out of the way as the CO2 coated the floor. They ran on and punched through. Misty never stopped swinging, staying in front as Gabriel ran behind her. He leapt over a falling mop, and they hit the door in the back of the galley and poured through, slamming the door behind them.
“We’re out of the galley,” Misty shouted, coughing. She dropped the fire extinguisher, and it clanged away, nearly clipping Gabriel in the leg.
“Okay,” Peter said, “when you reach the door at the end of the hall, go through it and down one level.”
“Copy,” Gabriel called. They got to the level and entered another corridor. Blessedly empty.
“Now, eight feet to your right, go through a hatch.”
They followed his directions and found the hatch, stepping over the abyss onto a ladder. “Now?”
“Climb,” Peter said. “Four levels. You’ve gone a long way down.”
Gabriel agreed. They began to climb, Gabriel about a yard above Misty. He hoped Peter was right. His friend was having to use his imagination, walking them through a maze like something in a video game. But what if they had missed something? He gripped each rung and climbed as fast as he could.
They reached the fourth level up and heard a door swing open below. Gabriel looked down past Misty as she jerked back and did the same. A sailor was looking up and began to blow the whistle. “They’ve found us again,” Gabriel said. “How much more?”
“You’re on the fourth level up?”
“Yes,” Gabriel said.
“Stop!” the sailor below said, climbing onto the ladder.
“Just step through,” Peter said. “And look right.”
Gabriel stepped through the door and Misty followed, and they saw the lockout trunk. Peter had led them to exactly where they needed to be. They hurried through the door into the dive room and found the empty pool. Behind them they heard their last pursuer come out into the hall.
They put on their rebreathers and dove headfirst.
“Where are they?” Someone’s voice echoed from a speaker above the water as Gabriel and Misty pushed the door of the lockout trunk out to find empty, open sea.
Misty brought her Katana to life and hopped on, dropping and zipping back up next to Gabriel. Gabriel got on his own. He felt the journal at his back and said to Peter, “Switching channels. See you soon.”
It took them an hour to reach the Obscure.
15
87:31:48
GABRIEL DROPPED THE journal down on the table in the library in triumph.
“Boom!” Peter shouted. “Off a nuclear submarine. Unbelievable!” He high-fived Gabriel. “Man, I wish we could tell someone about this.”
“Yeah, don’t do that,” Misty said as she fell into a chair. “I need water.”
Gabriel grabbed a couple of bottles out of the cooler next to the view screen and collapsed into his own chair. He slid one to Misty.
Peter clapped his hands. “Come on, let’s see it.” He snatched up the journal.
“Yeah, boom,” Misty said. “You’re up!”
“I’m up? I just walked you through a submarine, that doesn’t count?” Peter took the book and opened it.
“What do you think?” Misty said.
Peter was taking in the numbers. “Yeah.” He adjusted his glasses. “That’s a little inconvenient.”
“Can we decode it?” Gabriel asked. Please tell me we can decode it.
Peter sifted through the pages and shrugged. “You a master code breaker? Because I’m not. But sure, I guess. Actually … hang on.”
Peter brought up a screen on his tablet and mirrored it on the wall screen. “This code looks … familiar. A lot of these codes used by sailors were not intended to be unbreakable, just … you know, meant to make it more trouble than it’s worth.”
Peter scrolled through sections of text on the screen and held up the diary as he did.
Gabriel and Misty shrugged and rose to gather behind him, and Gabriel looked from the handwritten pages to the text on the screen.
“Is that the Nemo database?” Gabriel squinted. “I’ve never seen all of this.” The crew had access to practically everything in the Nemo network systems, but most of what even Gabriel had studied was the stuff they used all the time—data on sea creatures, ocean pathways, weather. Even the biographical material they’d been looking at was new to him.
“A lot of databases have a list of codes, but yeah, this one is yours. Congrats. This is just an example. I’m gonna have to scan in some of the code and run a search. We’ll be looking for known codes, the ones that have already been broken,” Peter said. “If we can find one that matches, it’ll go a lot easier.”
“Easier how?” Gabriel asked.
“Well, then it would mean we have a key and it’s just work, tedium, but it can get done.”
“What if we can’t find a match?”
“If we can’t find a match?” Peter lowered the diary, looking back at Gabriel. “Then … then we’ll…” He shrugged.
“Then we’ll think of something else,” Misty said, slapping Peter on the shoulder.
“Don’t even think that,” Gabriel said. He stretched his arms, feeling energy return to his body. “We pulled off a submarine heist. You’re one of us. We can do anything.”
Peter grinned. “I love the confidence, but…”
“No buts!” Gabriel pointed at Peter. “This is all you.” He gestured at Misty. “Are we on course for Midway?” It was the only solid location they had.
“Set,” Peter said.
“How long will it take to get there, if that’s where we’re going?”
“Forty-two or so more hours.”
Gabriel looked at the countdown. “Okay. We have about eighty-seven and a half hours to go. We need to start thinking about rest. Misty and I just ran a marathon … and you and I were up all night with the model,” he remembered. “If we don’t have the code cracked in, I don’t know, three hours, we … rethink this.” He sighed. He didn’t want to rethink this.
Misty and Gabriel left Peter to his work and stepped onto the bridge of the Obscure. Gabriel turned to her. “You want to sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”
Misty leaned against her station. “I’ll take it. You said yourself, you guys were up all night. Four hours, then you’re on watch.”
“Aye, aye,” he said.
Gabriel went back to his quarters and dropped into his bunk, staring up at the shimmering interior of the curved roof. He opened the shutters and looked out at the particles visible in the waves as they passed by.
His own reflected face stared back. The nose that was so like his mother’s. He saw her, saw images he didn’t want to see, and forcefully shut his eyes, feeling his body spike with adrenaline as the terrible thoughts came in. His mom was being held. How in the world was he supposed to sleep? He couldn’t. But he did.
Suddenly Gabriel awoke and looked at his wristband. A call signal was beeping on his nightstand. He slapped at it as he sat up. He felt guilty for sleeping, and at the same time guilty for feeling guilty. “Yes?”
“Sorry to wake you,” Peter said. “But Gabriel, I got it. I got it!”
His crew. Amazing.
Peter stood near the screen in the library, which he had divided in half to display two pages of code. “Okay,” he said. Then he glanced at Gabriel. “You okay? You look tired.”
Gabriel waved his hand. But he felt his stomach grumble. “I’m okay. I’m hungry.” He went to a small panel next to a seascape painting in the back of the library and pulled out a green smoothie in a biodegradable bottle. He grabbed an extra one for Misty before offering one to Peter.
“I’m good,” Peter said.
Gabriel untwisted the cap and sipped the smoothie. His stomach settled instantly. “What do you have?”
Misty poked her head in and then took a seat. “We’re clear for the next two hundred miles,” she said. “I want to see, too.” She took the smoothie Gabriel offered.
Peter said, “Well, first, I eliminated the codes that were invented since 1910 and that cut the searches in half. But there was still a problem—”
“Peter, just…” Gabriel shook his head. “I think it’s amazing that you solved it, but for now, just jump to the end.”
“It’s a Nemo code.” Peter laughed and clapped his hands.
“What?”
“It’s one of yours, which, really, I thought it might be. It’s a code that was used by sailors who worked with the Nemos in the nineteenth century. Captain Nemo himself had his crew learn it. I mean, it’s based on one of the ciphers from the South Pacific—never mind. The point is that we don’t just have clues, we have a whole cipher.”
“So we can decode it.”
“Not can,” Peter said with another laugh. “I already have.” He tapped a key, and the right side of the screen went dark.
When it lit up again, Gabriel read:
OCTOBER 23
Calm seas today, thank goodness, because we spent all day on the surface. Captain Nemo …
“Oh, my,” Gabriel said. “Peter, you’re a genius.”
“I have moments,” he said. “You wanna read this thing?”
16
OCTOBER 24, 1910
For the past three days we have been steaming for Rio de Janeiro, there to meet up with the rebels that Captain Nemo has felt such affinity for. I was there when he gathered us on the shore of Lincoln Island and told us of the uprising that gave him such hope.
What a figure is the captain! When he speaks, everyone falls silent, and even in the wind and against the ocean, his voice strains not at all. He told us that the workers of Brazil, long abused, have begun a movement—not to overthrow their masters, no, but to demand treatment such as may become a man. This would be the mission of the Nautilus—to take to them a gift that would bring them power and with any luck might fund their new, more equal world.
That gift is the Dakkar’s Eye, a silver device no bigger than a coconut; this I know because he displayed the small wooden casket in which the thing was kept. He explained that the Dakkar’s Eye will power machines many times greater and more in number than the Nautilus, and he wants to give it to the world, allowing it first to be used by these men in Brazil.
That was all we needed—the word of the captain that we bore a great gift and are bound for worthy recipients.
I have seen little of the captain in the last two days, although I did observe him working in his laboratory aft. It was my duty to peek my head in and remind him of his luncheon, and I observed him before a small leaden wall about the height of his shoulders. He was looking through a slit in the lead while he worked his arms inside sleeves that I could barely see in holes in the lead wall.
Next to him, Umberto, his assistant on this trip, took notes as Nemo muttered things to him that I could not hear. Umberto is a pleasant sort, tall and young, with thick glasses, wearing a long heavy smock. He looks at every moment like a barber, the kind that may need to cut you open and
would know how to do it.
Strange work, but such is the work of Nemo!
The kitchen calls me, and it is time to serve the crew.
OCTOBER 26, 1910
A strange day: Halfway through the night I was awakened to hear the screaming of men and rose from my bunk ready to do battle—but with what? When I looked out the nearest portal, I saw only the sea. No fool would attempt to board such a craft as this. So, then, what occurred to cause the screaming?
I ran toward the lab with two of my fellows and found the captain outside the lab door, his hair in disarray, shouting for everyone to stay back. The screams we heard were no more, but now I realized that the one I had heard had been Umberto.
The captain ordered the ship to surface, and so we rest and have gone about our regular duties waiting to hear from him.
OCTOBER 27, 1910
Stranger still. Today the captain pulled me aside for special work, because, he said, unlike my fellows, I had at least seen into the laboratory. When I followed him to the corridor outside the lab, he bade me put on a diving suit—heavier than any I have ever experienced. The helmet was thick, with special glass in only the narrowest slit near the eyes. The body of the suit was heavy, leaden, and indeed when I asked if it were lead in the suit, he said aye.
Clad in a suit identical to the one he had given me, the captain led me into his lab. It is not very large, about the size of our galley, and the lead wall I had observed before was the focus of the room. Captain Nemo led me to and around the little wall.
Behind it, seated at a table, was Umberto, dead, and this is all my Christian heart can bear to relate. Before him was the wooden casket that held the Dakkar’s Eye. It was cracked, and I could see blue light seeping out of the cracks, the wood itself giving off streams of heat.
Captain Nemo bade me pick up a pair of tongs, and he did the same, and we lifted the wooden casket from the hands of the poor assistant and gingerly—gingerly, said the captain—nestled it into the lead box.
Captain Nemo pointed out to me a silver box on the shelf. It was larger than the wooden casket, and ornate, with engravings of the orient that I could not read. It had a hinged top that opened in two down the middle and was not fastened. At the captain’s instruction, I laid this box on the table, and we used the tongs to lift the lead casket and drop this into the silver. Then with the tongs, the captain closed the two sides of the top of the box and turned the fastener, an ornamented lotus flower. He turned it once, twice, and again, and then, satisfied, stepped away.
Quest for the Nautilus Page 9
