by C J Lutton
I allowed Miss Verne to position herself in front of me. I rested one hand on her shoulder as though frog-marching her. Without hesitating, she stepped across the threshold and into the corridor. I followed her with my head slightly bowed. The clatter and clanging of the machinery drowned out any possibility of the crew hearing my wildly beating heart. All along the corridor, the seafarers were working on various projects. Their backs were towards us. Their duties made them too preoccupied to pay us any notice. Chancing a look over Miss Verne’s shoulder, I glanced ahead. About twenty feet from us, there was an open door, leading to the control room. Clusters of men in navy shirts and matching trousers stood around a chart table.
Thankfully, they were facing away from us. We escaped their notice because they appeared to be listening to someone who was hidden by the bulk of their bodies. Suddenly, two of the men shifted and I saw the Captain. Jaeger! The illustration in the newspaper had been accurate. There was no mistaking who the man was. He was the one they were listening to!
Miss Verne stiffened slightly and nodded her head to the right imperceptibly. At first, I did not understand the import of her signal. Then I noticed a man sitting in the shadows. He was bound hand and foot and tied to the periscope tube. His head was tipped down.
“My brother,” Miss Verne whispered so that I would hear.
I was shocked by her revelation and even more worried by the calmness with which she spoke. I whispered to her, “Keep moving. We must get closer.”
A single nod was returned by the courageous woman.
“Still no contact with the barge?” Jaeger asked his men, as we drew near enough to hear.
“Nothing, sir,” came the reply. “Something must have fouled the dwarf’s engine. If we had known in time, we could have stopped to reduce the drag, but the cable snapped, I’m afraid.”
“All right, thank you. As soon as Monsieur Verne explains the guidance of his torpedoes, we’ll bring the Nautilus to periscope depth. Perhaps Zeke will have the acumen to do the same. Where is Mr. Klarner with the woman?”
Miss Verne and I had arrived at the outer edge of the circle of three officers, just as Jaeger questioned our whereabouts. I managed to position myself so that her head blocked Jaeger’s view of mine.
“Ah, there you are,” Jaeger said, noticing us for the first time. Fortunately, he focused his attention on my faux captive. “Miss Verne, if you would be kind enough to take your place by your brother’s side, we will dispense with the unpleasantries straightaway. Stand to the right of him, please.” Jaeger pointed to a small dark space next to Mr. Verne.
She took the spot he indicated, holding the ropes loosely in her hands the whole time. I kept my head lowered, but I noticed her right hand had dropped the rope and was moving beneath the fold of her skirt. Suddenly I understood! She was readying the crossbow! She would kill her captors if she had the opportunity!
I stepped to the side, positioning myself for a clear shot at Jaeger, and recalled that Holmes had instructed me to kill Jaeger’s men. However, I thought that if I had the chance and took on Jaeger, the other three would panic without their leader.
“Monsieur Verne, I ask you one more time. How do your torpedoes work? Explain the guidance system to me.” Jaeger sounded irked and his small eyes shone with ferocity.
Jules Verne lifted his upper lip in a sneer. “Non.”
This infuriated Jaeger. He bellowed, “Are you willing to die for what you believe in?” It was clear that Jaeger’s question was not of a rhetorical nature. He expected an answer.
“Oui,” came the reply, full of anger.
“I see. I believe you, but are you willing to watch your sister die in your place?”
“Oui,” was the answer and it was delivered with a smile.
41
Miss Verne flinched at her brother’s cruel tone and I, being completely unprepared for his answer, felt my breath catch in my throat. My reaction caused one of the men to notice me.
At that very instant, a loud clanging noise was heard, far forwards of where we were. Reflexively, everyone turned towards the sound. I raised my weapon in that direction. A ceiling panel came swinging down and crashed violently into the back of Jaeger’s head, sending him sprawling to the floor. Above the din of confusion, Miss Verne fired her weapon and pinned a guard’s foot to the floor. I let loose of one of my own arrows and followed her example with the second seaman. Once my man was immobile, I used my sap to bring him down, flat on his face.
Holmes dropped from the blackness above, landing on his feet. With his sap, he knocked down the last of Jaeger’s men. Miss Verne hurriedly tossed her rope around the man she had pinned to the decking and with surprising industry tied him to a post. Whipping a handkerchief out of her pocket, she gagged him. Only then did I realise he’d been whimpering.
When our work was done, we faced each other in shocked silence. Our plan had worked! The quickness that had exploded in a fraction of a moment held us spellbound.
Holmes recovered first. Walking over to the prone figure of Jaeger, Holmes turned him face up with the toe of his shoe. “Is everyone all right with you, Watson?” my friend asked, bending down and tying Jaeger up with a length of rope.
“Yes,” I managed.
Miss Verne ran to her brother and untied him—and, to my surprise, lovingly embraced the man who just moments earlier coldly offered to sacrifice her life. “Jules!” she said as she threw her arms around his neck. “I am so sorry that I dragged you into this!”
Monsieur Verne jumped to his feet and moved past her. He unlocked the remaining three doors into the Control Room before speaking into some sort of sound system. “Attendez!” he shouted and then he told them that the mutiny had been quelled. As he explained that he had regained control of the ship, crewmen came running. He ordered his crew to disperse and go about the duties of inspecting the ship for other intruders.
“How can you tell which ones are your crew?” I asked.
Miss Verne gave me the faintest of brave smiles. “I chose their uniforms myself. They are the men in the striped shirts, the navy trousers, and the flat caps with a red kerchief at the throat.”
A particularly imposing sailor arrived and spoke to Monsieur Verne in urgent but hushed tones. At the conclusion of the conversation, the seaman dragged the groggy Jaeger to his feet and shoved him rudely down the hallway we’d used earlier.
“Monsieur Holmes, Dr. Watson, please follow me,” Verne said. “We have much to prepare for.”
Verne was an austere-looking gentleman, with a receding hairline made more obvious by a large forehead. His hair color had once been black, but now was threaded with gray and white. His brows were still black as coal. They met at the center of his face and undulated in wild abandon over darkly penetrating, intelligent eyes. Monsieur Verne sported a beard and mustache showing signs of maturing into salt-and-pepper. His features couldn’t help but convey an eerily intense expression.
His bearing and demeanor declared Verne to be a man whom I would have avoided at any cost. Under normal circumstances at least. Without regard to civility, he spun on his heels and left us standing there. One would have thought he could have spared a few words of appreciation for freeing him and his sister. Certainly, he should have asked after his sister’s welfare. But he did none of this, and I was shocked. Glancing at me, Miss Verne pleaded with her eyes to excuse his coldness, before following her brother.
Sherlock Holmes squinted after them and shrugged his shoulders. “Come, Watson,” he said, dramatically. “We have been summoned.”
“Tell me, Holmes,” I whispered, as we followed the disparate siblings. “Would he have let her die under such terrible circumstances?”
“No. He may be poor excuse for a brother, but he knew I was above him.”
“Oh? And how did he know that?”
“Miss Verne signaled him with her eyes. From your vantage point, you couldn’t observe her, but I was in the perfect position. She’s a remarkable woman, Watson.
”
Before I could respond in the affirmative, we entered the Captain’s suite. There we found Verne sitting at a massive ornate desk. Miss Verne was nowhere in sight.
“Ma soeuror est malade. Ce n’est rien de grave,” said, the man, stonily.
Recalling my early days of language courses during my schooling, I struggled with the translation. Then it came to me what Verne had said. He’d just said his sister was sick, but we shouldn’t worry about it. “I am a doctor!” I responded, a little too harshly. “Perhaps if I could see your sister, I may be of help.”
Non!” came his angry reply. Monsieur Verne’s face went red with the threat of a tantrum. “Ce n’est rien de grave!” For emphasis, he pounded his fist on the desk’s surface.
“You ungrateful fool!” Holmes glowered at the fiery man. “We nearly died saving you from your folly! And we risked our lives to save your sister. But you don’t seem to care! You and your cursed ship were about to commit an unspeakable crime!”
Monsieur Verne jumped out of his chair, kicking it and propelling it against the wall in a fit of anger. The Captain’s face played a symphony of emotions before eventually settling on one—despair. “C’est plus qu’un crime, c’est une faute,” he responded with a ragged edge to his voice.
“What do you mean worse than a crime? What mistake?” asked Holmes, translating instantly.
Verne collected himself and righted his chair. Gesturing with his hand, he motioned us to take up the chairs that faced his desk. “This ship—” he replied to Holmes’ question, “—it was a mistake to ever create it. Twice the Nautilus has brought us to the brink of a calamitous war. It was built for science, not for fighting! And now! Je vous prie de m’oxcuser! I must apologize to you for my—how did you phrase it? Ah yes, my folly. But it is not over. Do you accept my apology?”
I ached to ask what part his sister played in all of this, but some instinct told me that was a tale for another time. If we lived that long.
Holmes nodded impatiently. “Yes, yes, but revenons a’ nos moutons.”
Again a momentary flash of anger crossed Verne’s face but it quickly dissipated. “Ainsi soit-il—so be it. Of course, you’re correct. Apologies can wait. At least, the Nautilus is under our control, although the barge is still out there. And that should be your primary concern. What the dwarf doesn’t know is that the barge is in all actuality a bomb. I have made sure there are enough explosives built into her to destroy the entire fleet. So you see, gentlemen, all of your actions have led to failure—it’s all the same.”
“But,” I said, “the barge is loose. She’s no longer tethered to the Nautilus.”
Holmes sat slouched in his chair, making a steeple of his fingers. He was deep in thought.
“It does not matter,” replied Monsieur Verne. “The cable is not what controlled the explosives. It was nothing but the means for the crew to travel back and forth from the Nautilus and the barge without getting lost. Jaeger installed it. That was before I knew of his treachery! I take it that that is how you arrived here—by following the cable?”
I nodded.
Holmes asked, “What triggers the explosives on the barge?”
“Percussion. When the charges placed on the last ship detonate, a concussive wave will result. The ensuing shock wave, spreading outwards from the dying ship, will apply a calculated amount of pressure on a series of plungers built into the hull of the barge. These plungers, collapsing in on themselves, will pierce a thin diaphragm, creating an electrical charge. Once the circuit is open, the entire barge will explode.”
“What kind of man are you?” I said with a scowl. “You are willing to kill untold numbers of men, for what? Did Jaeger promise you gold?”
“Not now, Watson!” Holmes snapped. “We’ll leave the recriminations to the Almighty.”
“Think of me what you will,” Verne responded, indignantly. “But they had my sister! Despite what you have recently seen, Monsieur Holmes and Docteur Watson, she means everything to me. She is in this predicament because I demanded that she come with me to meet your Queen. Her Majesty was very taken with the book I wrote and requested an audience. Once that loathsome Prince Bertie saw Maria, he would not leave her alone. He wooed her, made promises, and broke her heart. The loss of his affection made her mad with grief. Since then, she has done things to get back at the Crown—and her mistakes are my fault, I fear.”
42
Holmes plunged ahead. “Are we safe? How many men did Jaeger bring aboard? We trussed up two in the diving room and two who held your sister. That’s before we met you in the control room.”
“Then I believe you have almost all of them. They are of no consequence,” said Verne. “My men are loyal to me. Now that my life and that of my sister are no longer at risk, my seafarers will dispose of Jaeger’s thugs.”
“Let me see if I understand you correctly, Monsieur,” said Holmes. “The barge will detonate when a ship on the surface explodes. Those were the charges attached by the crew members who work for Zeke, the Bard. Am I right?”
“I did not see the devices,” said Verne. “S’il vous plait, describe them to me.”
Holmes did, estimating their sizes and mentioning their magnetic manner of attachment.
“Mais, oui,” said Verne. “One of them alone is not enough to cause the sort of percussion to set off the barge. But any two of them? C’est fini.”
Holmes frowned. “I assume they would be set for a predetermined time?”
“Yes. I believe the Bard calculated approximately how long it would take the Royal Navy to set sail and arrive in these waters. He has his spies, n’est pas? A note with news of your kidnapping was delivered to the Prime Minister along with a separate message regarding the Queen’s Grandson. The young Prince was taken off of the Clarity with an escort for his safety.”
“But how?” I asked. “How was he removed?”
“One of my trusted men left the barge using diving gear. He boarded the Clarity and used another invention of mine, an inflatable boat. You see, Jaeger removed all the lifeboats from his vessels so that none of his men could cut and run. But this invention of mine starts as the size of a small trunk and expands. Once you get it into the water, you can row to your destination. That escape from the Clarity allowed ample time for the discussion of the note’s contents with the proper naval departments so the Prime Minister could issue orders for the Fleet to intercept us. The arrival of the Fleet has been calculated. The last ship in the convoy is the Collier, and it will explode in four hours’ time.”
“To be so precise is impossible,” I argued. “If the Fleet doesn’t arrive in that four hours timeframe, then that barge will explode and kill the Bard’s crew and those on the ship.”
“I wish it were so,” Verne replied, grimly. “That variable, of course, was taken into account. Jaeger’s trio of ships—the Collier, the Curzon, and the Clarity—will maneuver into position to intercept the Fleet, one hour before the rendezvous. According to the plan, Jaeger’s three ships will allow themselves to be seen. They will run for a little while—always losing ground, mind you. At precisely one hour after being observed, the ships will stop all engines and allow the Fleet to move in. It is then that the explosives will detonate.”
“All those men will die!” I said.
Holmes took a deep breath and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Remember, old friend, if they were brought back to England, there’s little doubt they would be hanged for piracy or thrown in jail for the rest of their lives. Perhaps it seems heartless, but I would rather go out like a lighted match, wouldn’t you?”
He had a point. But I couldn’t stop, “What about the Queen’s Fleet? We must save those men. They are loyal to the Crown.”
Rather than answer, Holmes said, “Four hours doesn’t give us much time. Oh, one more question. Where will the barge be positioned when the Fleet arrives?”
“The barge is to be one hundred meters on the port side and amidships of the triggering ship,
the Collier, the last ship in the line-up. That’s the one with the six explosive devices on the hull, thanks to the Bard’s men,” said Verne. “The barge will be precisely sixty feet below the surface. Why do you ask?”
Holmes ignored the question, drumming his fingers on the desk. Speaking more to himself than to us, he muttered, “I must find a way of disarming those explosives on the Collier, and a way to stop the barge from moving close to its target.”
“Impossible,” argued Verne. “Even if you could get to the Collier, the explosives are not accessible to you. They are attached to the outside of the hull beneath the water line. As you described them to me, they are magnetized. And the only way to stop the explosion is to physically turn the timers off. Also, there is no way of knowing where the barge is right now. We can’t risk moving the Nautilus alongside Jaeger’s fleet. One of his ships might hit the barge and cause it to explode. That’s why we have gone lower than the barge can go. We can only hope to pick up any survivors after it is all over. There is nothing else we can do.”
“There is something we can do!” I said. “We have to turn the Nautilus around and intercept the Fleet. They have to be warned that they’re sailing into a trap.”
“Good thinking, Watson!” Holmes smiled, clapping his hands together. “Monsieur, how fast will the Nautilus go?”
“She is much faster than the barge. She will do twenty knots submerged. We can cut the distance in half, and I…” Verne paused, with a curious look upon his face.
Holmes and I glanced at each other, realising that the engines had stopped. In fact, we hadn’t moved for some time.
“Why are the engines stopped?” I asked.
Surprised by my question, Verne leaned back in his chair and felt the wall for vibrations. “This is impossible,” he yelled as he jumped out of his chair.
“What is?” I asked.
