Daughter of the Deep(68)

‘Engine room,’ I say. ‘You were talking about options?’

A moment of static, then Nelinha responds, ‘Yes, but you’re not going to like –’

‘I don’t like anything right now. Talk to me.’

‘The cav-drive,’ she says. ‘It might still be operational. It uses a different starter system to communicate with the engines –’

Dev’s voice overrides hers. ‘Harding-Pencroft are not our friends, Ana. They’ve been hoarding our family’s inheritance for generations. Their stupidity got our parents killed. They’re using you. Land Institute gave me command of their prize ship. They want to use our tech to make the world better. Harding-Pencroft would never. They refused to let me even see the Nautilus. This was the only way to force their hand. I’m sorry, but it had to be done. Now we can take what is ours. Yours and mine.’

‘N-Nelinha, this cav-drive …’ I try to tune out Dev’s words, but I feel like I’ve been gargling with sea-snake venom. ‘Are you sure it will work?’

‘Absolutely not,’ she says. ‘If I push this red button, maybe nothing happens. Maybe we explode right here. Or maybe we shoot halfway across the Pacific and smash straight into the side of an underwater mountain. But that’s all I’ve got, unless you can keep Dev talking for another six or seven hours while we make repairs.’

I’d rather explode.

‘If we manage to get away,’ Gem warns, ‘the Aronnax will turn on Lincoln Base.’

I know that. Ophelia, Luca, Dr Hewett, Tia, Franklin … How can we leave them at the mercy of that sub … of Dev? What has my brother become? On the other hand, I can’t surrender this crew. The defenders in Lincoln Base gave me a mission. They stayed behind to make it possible.

‘Nautilus, listen to me,’ I tell the sub in Bundeli. ‘We need to leave immediately. We need to find somewhere safe. If we don’t –’

‘All right, then.’ Dev’s pained voice reminds me so much of our father’s. Dad’s disappointed sigh whenever we misbehaved was always the worst punishment. ‘Ana, we’re launching an EMP tornado. It won’t destroy you. It’ll just knock out your remaining systems. Then we’ll board you. You can’t stop us. You’re a bunch of freshmen on a derelict ship you don’t understand. Please don’t make us kill your crew.’

Gem yells, ‘Torpedo in the water! Ten seconds to impact!’

‘Engine room!’ I shout. ‘Punch the cav-drive now!’

For three heartbeats – nothing.

Then sheets of aerated water blast over the front windows like we’ve plunged into the world’s most powerful carwash. The ship shoots forward so violently I am thrown backwards across the bridge. I feel a dull crack as my head hits metal, and everything goes dark.





When I wake, Ester is standing over me, wearing surgeon’s scrubs. My temples throb. The back of my skull feels like it’s encased in ice.

‘You’re in the sickbay,’ Ester says. ‘You’ve been out for four hours. You need to rest –’

I roll sideways out of the bed, trying to find my feet. I step on Top, who yelps in protest. Ester grabs my arm to steady me.

‘This is not resting,’ she observes.

‘I have to … the ship. Are we safe?’

From somewhere nearby, Nelinha answers, ‘For now.’

I try to focus. Multiple da Silvas swirl in the doorway. She’s wearing combat boots, a black-and-white plaid kilt and a black hoodie, with black lipstick to match so she looks like a highlander commando. On her forehead is a puffy white bandage the size of a dollar bill.

I point unsteadily at her patch. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Who, me? I’m peachy. When we went to cav-drive, my face had a disagreement with a crankshaft. How are you feeling?’

That’s a good question. My headache is generating an explosive yield of about fifty megatons. I’ve been unconscious for four hours. At least that saved me from four hours of ugly crying. My brother is alive, and a traitor, and a mass murderer.

‘I’ll live,’ I decide. ‘Who’s piloting the ship?’

‘Well, Gem has the bridge,’ Nelinha says, with less distaste than I would have expected, ‘but nobody’s piloting at the moment. We’re stationary.’

I struggle to process that. ‘How is the crew?’

‘We had seventeen injuries,’ Ester says. ‘Mostly minor.’

‘With Franklin and Tia gone, we only have a crew of eighteen.’

‘I know,’ she agrees. ‘I was lucky. I have good balance. Also, Jupiter is fine. And Top is fine.’

Top wags his tail. Can confirm.

Ester prods my scalp with her fingers. Maybe she’s looking for holes in my head. She hates physical contact, but when I’m just a patient, she has no problem mercilessly poking.

‘Your ancestor invented super-cavitation drive,’ she says, ‘but he didn’t invent seat belts. We have three people with broken arms, two concussions and one second-degree burn.’

‘Who got burned?’

‘Kay Ramsay.’ Nelinha points behind me.

Kay is lying fast asleep in the next bed over. Her arm is bandaged from shoulder to fingertips. Poor Kay … I hope this med bay has some kind of skin-grafting technology.