Daughter of the Deep(30)

On the other hand, the secret of alt-tech does explain why they always looked at us so smugly. A lot of things make sense now. The tight security around Verne Hall. The armed guards. The gold-level crates.

I still can’t believe Dev kept all these secrets from me … about our family heritage, and especially about the circumstances of our parents’ death. The more I think about it, though, the less angry I am. It just makes me sad that Dev had to carry that weight alone. I wish I could have helped him. Now he’s gone …

‘We can’t let them have it.’ Brigid Salter’s voice draws me out of my thoughts. She still looks shaky, like she’s emerged from a three-day bout with the flu, but her expression is hard as iron. ‘This base. It might be all we have left of HP. We can’t let Land Institute take it. Or you, Ana … We can’t let them have you, either.’

I get a lump in my throat. It would be so easy for Brigid, for all my classmates, to blame me for what has happened, given the fact that I’m the one Land Institute is after. Instead, I can sense the anger rippling through the group, and that anger isn’t directed at me.

‘I call for a vote,’ Gem announces. ‘I say we give Ana command. We follow her orders, work together and find this base. Then we make Land Institute pay for what they’ve done. All in favour?’

The vote is unanimous. Everybody raises a hand except Top, and I like to think I have his moral support.

I swallow the metallic taste of fear. I’ve just been made acting captain of a ship with a crew of twenty freshmen, a dog, a dolphin and one comatose adult.

I do not want that responsibility. Just because I’m descended from Nemo does not mean I’m captain material. But my classmates need someone to rally behind, someone who will bring them better fortunes. God help them, they’ve decided that someone is me. For them, for our lost friends and especially for Dev, I have to try.

‘I won’t let you down.’

As soon as those words are out of my mouth, I think, How can I promise that?

‘Prefects, to the bridge with me,’ I say, my legs shaking. ‘Everyone else, to your assigned stations. We’ve got work to do!’

It’s only seventy-two more hours, I tell myself.

Then we’ll either find help at this secret base … or we’ll most likely die.





Turns out running a ship is hard work.

I guess I should’ve known this. I’ve been on the Varuna enough times before. But I’ve never been in charge of an entire crew, especially not one trying to figure out crates full of Nemo-based alt-tech.

My meeting with the prefects goes well enough. We organize our assignment schedule and daily shifts. One Dolphin and one Shark will be on the bridge at all times as quartermaster and officer of the deck. Orcas and Cephalopods will conduct a careful unpacking and analysis of our gold-level tech. Linzi and Franklin will alternate in the sickbay looking after Dr Hewett. Everyone will take turns preparing meals, keeping an inventory of supplies, monitoring the critical systems and cleaning the Varuna. (Ships get dirty quickly with twenty-one people and a dog on board.) Meanwhile, Top will follow Ester around and look cute. Socrates will come and go as he pleases, eating fish and playing in the ocean. Why do the animals get the best jobs?

Once all that’s decided, I set our course. I figure we’ll have to risk travelling in a straight line to the island. We don’t have enough time or supplies to be tricky and zigzag around the ocean, hoping to throw off any pursuers. Hewett’s advanced camouflage and anti-sonar tech had better work.

I leave Virgil Esparza and Dru Cardenas in command for the first watch. Tia Romero stays on the bridge, too. She’s been working on Dr Hewett’s control pad, trying to get access and route the encrypted data to the onboard computer. I wish her luck, though I’m not sure I can handle any more mind-blowing secrets that Dr Hewett might have been waiting to spring on us.

I spend the first part of the day making the rounds. I check on the crew. I give them encouragement. I try not to trip over the many open gold-level boxes now scattered around the ship. I get a lot of questions from excited Cephalopods and Orcas: what is this? How does it work? Most of the time, I don’t have a clue what I’m looking at. I might have Nemo’s DNA, but it did not come with any latent knowledge or a handy user’s manual.

By noon, rain is hammering down. Swells have risen to five feet. It’s nothing we haven’t handled before, but it’s not great for morale. If you’re stuck working belowdecks and can’t get fresh air or see the horizon, even those with the strongest stomachs can get seasick.

I find Nelinha in the engine room. She’s sitting on the corrugated steel floor, her legs in a V with a gold-level crate open in front of her. Today, she has refreshed her Rosie the Riveter look with a red top and red polka-dotted bandanna. She seems completely engrossed in sorting through wires and metal plates. I have a flashback to Dev in sixth grade, building Lego robots.

I turn to Gem, who’s been following me around all morning. ‘Why don’t you get some lunch? I’ll be fine.’

He looks torn between his duty as bodyguard and his discomfort at being around Nelinha. Finally, he nods and lopes off. This is a relief. He’s been standing behind me so long, I’m starting to think his breath is leaving an impression on my shoulder.

‘How’s that going?’ Nelinha waves her screwdriver at the spot where Gem was standing.