by Deb Mercier
The moon appears beyond the edges of a thick cloud. The surface of the sea glitters with light. You stop to tread water and scan the horizon.
“There it is!” You see the ship—a dark mass off in the distance.
“Help! Help!” Conseil shouts.
You both wait and listen.
“Did you hear?” you murmur, thinking you heard an answer to Conseil’s call.
“Help! Help!” Conseil repeats.
This time there is no mistake. A human voice responds to Conseil. You both begin to stroke toward the sound.
It’s been a long night, fighting the waves, and you feel your strength leaving your body. Suddenly, you’re struck by something hard. You cling to it, then feel yourself being hauled out of the water. It’s the last thing you remember before you pass out.
***
When you awaken, you’re staring into the face of Ned Land.
“Were you thrown overboard as well?” you ask.
“Yes, Professor,” he says, “but I was luckier than you. I was quickly able to find safety on a floating island.”
Your mind whirls, still foggy. “A what?”
Ned laughs. “I landed on our Giant Narwhal.”
“What?” you exclaim as you sit up.
“I found out why my harpoon didn’t enter the beast,” says Ned. “This beast is made of sheet iron.”
You kick the smooth, black surface that you’re sitting on and hear a metallic klang in response. Your fingers run over riveted plates. This is no mammal. Your Giant Narwhal is actually some sort of man-made submarine.
A bubbling begins at the back of this strange machine. You scramble to hang on as it starts to move.
The submarine begins to sink. As the water rushes over your feet, you yell, “There has to be a way in!”
Ned kicks the sub’s metal surface, making as much racket as possible. “Open up!” he yells.
The submarine stops, and you hear a scraping noise. One of the iron plates on the top of the hull moves aside, and a man appears. He looks right at you, gives an odd cry, and disappears back inside.
Moments later, eight men wearing masks emerge from the opening. They rush toward you, and you remember that these men attacked your ship. They are your enemy, and they may intend to kill you. Yet you are tired and outnumbered. Can you hope to fight them off? Or should you surrender and pray for the best? What will you choose to do?
Fight the men.
Surrender.
“We must fight our way into the submarine!” you yell. “It is our only chance!”
With a surge of energy, you rush the men. Ned and Conseil follow.
Conseil leaps to your side, as always, doing his best to defend you. You try to fight through the men, but you are no match even for the first whom you encounter. You are exhausted after a night spent swimming, so you do not have much left to give.
Blows rain down upon you. One strikes you squarely in the nose. It sends you to the ground. You bang your head hard against the submarine’s metal surface, and you know no more.
You do not notice your body slip off the edge of the submarine. You do not even feel the ocean swallow you as you sink into an endless darkness.
Try again.
3. Moving in a Moving Thing
The men grab you, Ned, and Conseil. You are roughly pulled into the vessel. The panel closes above as you crawl down a ladder. You are led into a room so black that you can’t see even the faintest light.
“Confound it!” shouts Ned. “These people may as well be cannibals for all the kindness they show us. But they won’t eat me without a fight!”
“Calm down,” says Conseil. “Let’s wait and see what happens. We’re not hurt.”
But Ned won’t be calmed. He threatens to use his knife on the next person who comes through the door. You want to tell him not to make things worse, but part of you thinks he may have the right idea.
While Ned fumes, you and Conseil feel around the walls for doors or windows. You find none.
After several moments, the room’s dense darkness is replaced by extreme light—the same intense brightness that lit up the sea around the submarine. Though it’s painful at first, your eyes slowly adjust. You see that the light is coming from a large half-globe embedded in the room’s ceiling.
“At last, we can see,” cries Ned. He stands with his knife as if he’s ready to fight.
“We’re still in the dark about where we are,” you say.
“Have patience,” says Conseil.
You hear a metallic scraping, and a door opens into your cell. Two men walk through. One is short and muscular with black hair and a thick moustache. The other is taller with pale skin and sharp, dark eyes. Both wear caps made of sea otter fur, seal skin boots, and strange-textured clothes. Both appear ready to do you and your friends harm.
Ned seems ready to spring. He takes a few steps forward, knife in hand. Part of you wants to fight along with him; you don’t trust these strange sailors who attacked your ship. But another part wants to see what the men have to say. What will you choose to do?
Fight for your freedom.
Keep Ned from attacking.
Three of you, two of them—you like these odds much better than before. While Ned rushes the taller of the two men, you attack the shorter, stockier one.
His eyes narrow as he meets your charge. Within seconds, your arms are pulled painfully behind your back. Ned’s knife clatters to the floor.
More men rush into the room before Conseil can even join the fray. The short fight is over in seconds.
The first two men talk in a strange language you’ve never heard. They seem to be arguing—but not for long. You, Ned, and Conseil are marched roughly up the same ladder you came down not long ago. The shorter man throws open the top panel. The harsh sea air hits your face with a sharp and salty tang.
The taller of the two men stares at you. He gives an order, and you feel strong hands push you from behind. You tumble helplessly into the dark and waiting waves of the Pacific. You have little strength left after the grueling events of last night. Soon, you sink below the dark waves, where you remain forever.
Try again.
You put your hand on Ned’s arm, warning him with your eyes to wait. You can’t take the risk of attacking when you don’t know your foe’s strength—or even the way out of the submarine.
The taller of the two men eyes you up and down. He looks like he’s in command, possibly the captain of this ship. He turns to the other man and speaks in a language you’ve never heard. The shorter man shakes his head and replies with more words you can’t understand.
You interrupt their conversation and ask, in your native French, “Who are you?”
They do not seem to understand.
Conseil suggests telling the men your story. He thinks they may at least get some of what you say.
The men listen quietly as you speak. You can’t tell if they understand. Ned repeats the story in English. Conseil repeats it in German. You try again in Latin.
Nothing.
The two men exchange a few words in their own language and then leave. A lock slides into place as the door shuts.
Ned snaps, “We spoke to them in French, English, German, and Latin. But neither one of them had the manners to answer!”
“Keep calm,” you say. “Your anger isn’t doing us any good.”
“We’re going to die of hunger in this iron cage!” Ned shouts back.
You remember the stinging taste of saltwater and the exhausting hours spent fighting the sea. “We’ve been worse off than this,” you remind him. “Let’s not assume the worst.”
“I already have my opinion. They’re villains!”
“From what country?” you challenge.
“From the country of villains!” shouts Ned.
“I don’t think that’s on the map,” you say, trying to turn the argument into a joke.
Your conversation is cut short as the door opens a second time. A man enters with dry clothes and food. While you change, the man sets the table with three elegant meals, complete with engraved silverware. Each piece has a saying etched into it: Mobilis in Mobili N. Roughly translated into English, these Latin words mean “moving in a moving thing.” And you’re pretty sure the “N” is the initial of the captain, the taller man you saw earlier.
You can’t remember the last meal you’ve eaten. Hunger takes control of you. The food is strange but delicious, and the three of you dig in.
When you’re full, Ned and Conseil stretch out on the floor. Soon they are snoring. Tiredness overwhelms you, and you also plunge into a deep sleep.
***
You wake when you hear the locks drawn back. The door swings open, and a crewman enters.
Before you can react, Ned launches himself at the crewman and grabs him by the neck. Conseil rushes to pull Ned from the choking man. You go to help Conseil, but you’re stopped by calm words spoken in perfect French.
“Unhand him, Mr. Land,” says the tall man.
Ned jumps back and lets the crewman go. The man coughs and stumbles from the cell.
The captain leans against the table. “I speak French, English, German, and Latin equally well. I could have answered you any time, but I chose to think about what you said first. Because each of you told the same story, I believe you.”
You are stunned by this turn of events.
The captain continues, “Chance has brought me Pierre Arronax, Professor of Natural History at the Museum of Paris; his assistant Conseil; and Ned Land, a Canadian harpooner. You are all from the United States’ navy ship Abraham Lincoln. Once I knew who you were, I wanted to consider what to do with you. I have broken all ties with humanity. Your presence here is troubling.”
“It is by accident,” you say.
“An accident?” replies the captain, his voice loud with anger. “Was it an accident that you chose to board the Abraham Lincoln? Was it an accident that you pursued my ship all over the seas? Was it an accident that Ned Land struck the Nautilus with his harpoon?”
“Sir,” you say. “Since you have broken ties with humanity, you do not know the stories being told in Europe and America. The crew of the Abraham Lincoln thought they were chasing a Giant Narwhal.”
The captain’s lips curl in a half-smile. “So your ship would not have fired if they had known they pursued a submarine rather than a monster?”
You feel a flush of embarrassment. You think the Abraham Lincoln’s captain would have fired even if he knew the “monster” was a submarine full of people.
“So you understand, I have the right to treat you as enemies.” says the captain. “I could place you three upon the deck of this vessel and sink beneath the waters, forgetting that you exist. Wouldn’t that be my right?”
“Maybe the right of a savage,” you say. “But not of a civilized man.”
“I am not a civilized man!” shouts the captain. “I don’t obey society’s laws, and you will never mention them again to me!”
As the captain speaks, you catch a glimpse in his eyes of a terrible past. You don’t dare press him further.
“I have decided that every human being has a right to kindness,” the captain explains. “Therefore, I will allow you to remain on my vessel. You will be free to roam the ship, but there is one condition. At times I will ask that you stay in your cabins for hours, even days. I expect that you will comply. Do you accept my offer?”
What will you choose to do?
Accept the captain’s offer.
Make a counter offer.
“That hardly seems fair,” you protest. “There are only three of us, and we mean you no harm. If you allow us to be free aboard your ship at all times, we will agree not to get in your way. Or do you plan to keep us prisoners forever?”
“You fired upon my vessel. You attacked my crew,” the captain says, shaking his head. “And now your answer proves that you will be more trouble than you are worth.”
He barks an order, and quickly you are surrounded by stony-faced crewmen. You, Ned, and Conseil are marched up the same ladder you came down not long ago. The panel leading to the outside is thrown open. The harsh sea air hits your face with a salty tang.
The captain gives an order. You feel strong hands push you from behind. You tumble helplessly into the waiting waves of the Pacific Ocean.
Saltwater fills your mouth as you struggle against the ocean waves. Soon, the cold, dark water swallows you, and you disappear below the waves forever.
Try again.
4. The Nautilus
So there are things going on that the captain doesn’t want us to see, you think. That makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t know what will happen if you refuse the captain’s offer.
“You said we would be free on board, but what do you mean by that?” you ask.
“You will be free to come and go, to see all that goes on here—except for those rare times when I say you must stay in your quarters. You will have the same basic freedoms that my companions and I enjoy.”
“You mean we will never see our family, our friends, our countries again?” you ask.
“Yes, but you’ll find it’s not as bad as you think.”
Ned finally speaks up. “I will never give my word that I won’t try to escape.”
“I didn’t ask you,” says the captain coldly.
“What you ask of us is cruel,” you tell him.
“No,” says the captain, “it’s fair. You attacked me. You are my prisoners of war. I’m keeping you alive and comfortable when I could plunge you into the depths of the ocean. My life is a secret that cannot be revealed to the world. In keeping you here, it isn’t you I guard—it is myself.”
“So our choice is between life and death?” you ask.
“Simply put, yes,” says the captain. “But I don’t think you and your companions will have much to complain about. I know you, Mr. Arronax. Your book on the depths of the sea is one of my favorites. But you haven’t seen half of what lies under the oceans. You will discover marvels you never imagined.”
You have to admit, that does sound exciting. Yet you wonder if it is worth losing your freedom.
“What should we call you?” you ask.
“I am Captain Nemo. You and your companions are passengers on board the Nautilus.”
Captain Nemo calls for a crewman and talks to him in the strange language of theirs. Then he turns to Ned and Conseil. “There is a meal waiting for you in your cabin. Follow this man.”
The captain invites you to have breakfast with him. You follow him down a lighted hallway and into a decorated dining room.
Your meal is made up entirely of food prepared from the sea. Captain Nemo describes each course—where it comes from and how it is caught and prepared. He tells you that he gave up food from the land a long time ago, and he never gets sick now.
To get him talking about something other than food, you ask the obvious. “So you like the sea, Captain?”
Captain Nemo’s whole attitude changes. “I love it!” he exclaims. “It covers seven-tenths of the globe, and it is pure and healthy. In fact, Professor, the globe began with the sea. Who is to say it won’t end with it? The sea doesn’t belong to evil men. On the surface, men fight and kill each other. But at thirty feet below the surface, they have no influence. Their power disappears. Here I am free!” He slams the table with his fist.
His attitude changes to calm again. “Now, if you would like a tour of the Nautilus, I will take you.”
You follow Captain Nemo to the back of the dining room. He opens
a set of doors which lead into a large library, complete with leather couches, reading desks and an enormous center table covered with old newspapers.
“There are thousands of books here,” you exclaim.
“These are all that bind me to the earth,” says Captain Nemo. “On the day the Nautilus first plunged beneath the waters, I bought all of my books and newspapers. You are free to make use of the library.”
Captain Nemo leads you through another set of doors. You find yourself in a huge room filled with paintings, sculptures, and cases upon cases of natural wonders. Everything on display is carefully labeled. There’s even a piano in the corner.
“Come, Mr. Arronax. I will show you your cabin.”
You follow Captain Nemo down a hallway that leads toward the front of the submarine.
Your cabin is an elegant room with a bed, dresser, and other fine furniture. Captain Nemo also shows you that his room is next to yours.
However, his room is nothing like yours. It feels like the room a monk would have, with only a small iron bed, a table, and a few personal items.
When you ask about the source of the submarine’s mysterious lights, Captain Nemo replies, “Electricity. It lights, warms, and powers everything.”
“That’s impossible,” you say. In your experience, electricity has only been made in small amounts, not even close to what is needed to power a ship like this.
Captain Nemo smiles and explains that his ship can produce electricity straight from seawater.
You are amazed.
The captain has more wonders to show you on board the Nautilus. He takes you to the center of the submarine where there is a sort of well that opens between two walls. An iron ladder leads to the upper end.
“What is the ladder used for?” you ask.
“It leads to a small boat,” he says.
