Daughter of the Deep(74)

I go to sleep that night in my ancestor’s stateroom, staring at the conch-patterned bas-relief on the ceiling. I wonder what the Nautilus thinks of her new crew. I hope, as we continue to clean her ancient brain, she doesn’t start remembering the downsides of working with humans.

The next day is my fifteenth birthday. Ester and Nelinha bring me a cupcake for breakfast and sing to me quietly, but they understand I don’t want any other recognition. We have so much else going on, and so little to celebrate … Also, I do not want to spend this day reflecting on how much has changed in the past year, or even the past week. And, as for blowing out candles and making wishes, I’m not sure I could express any of my wishes without breaking into tears. Better to just keep moving forward.

We’ve given ourselves a week to repair the ship, which isn’t nearly enough time, but we also know that every day we spend here is another day our friends are prisoners of Land Institute.

I wish I could believe the Aronnax had left Lincoln Base alone. I’d feel relieved if I knew they were following the Nautilus, hoping to catch us. But I suspect Lee-Ann was right about Dev taking hostages and waiting to see if we would come back. I just have to hope this old submarine still has some surprises up her torpedo tubes. We have to figure out a way not to cav-drive ourselves right into a trap. Otherwise, all our tech and all that treasure in the hold aren’t going to do us any good.

The day after my birthday, we finish de-gunking the innards of the Nautilus. As near as Nelinha can tell, the cav-drive is back online. The Sharks repair the forward and aft Leyden cannons. They also manage to piece together two working torpedoes by cannibalizing parts from the others on board.

‘They would have exploded in the bay if we’d tried to fire them at the Aronnax,’ Gem assures me. ‘So it’s a good thing we didn’t.’

The next day, Halimah and Jack get the skiff operational and take it out for a spin. They manage not to crash or drown. Robbie figures out how to run Jupiter’s Great British Bake Off Blu-rays through the LOCUS display in the galley, so our chef can watch Mary Berry in holographic purple 3-D (which is just as terrifying as it sounds). I discover that Captain Nemo’s keytar can be synched with the bridge’s pipe organ, so I can play music from anywhere in the ship.

‘Or even outside the ship,’ Ester guesses. ‘That keytar thing looks waterproof. I bet you could broadcast music while you’re in the deep.’

Nelinha frowns. ‘Why would she want to do that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ester says. ‘Because it’s cool?’

That afternoon, I spend most of my time on the pipe organ. I don’t plan it that way. I run through one Bach fugue just because the crew is curious. Most of them have never heard me play.

When I finish, I realize everyone on the bridge is staring at me.

‘That was beautiful,’ Virgil says.

From the overhead speaker, Meadow Newman says, ‘Engine room. Hey, Ana? Keep doing that. Panels lit up down here that we haven’t been able to get working before.’

So I play another Bach piece. After that I play ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon. A few tunes later, I get wild and play my favourite, Adele’s ‘Someone Like You’.

The bridge lights brighten. The keyboard seems to warm under my fingers. The notes come more easily, as if the organ is anticipating the tune.

Then the Nautilus joins in. She begins to play her own countermelodies. The song becomes even richer and sadder. I feel the submarine start to dive.

‘Whoa,’ says Lee-Ann. ‘Depth now forty metres … fifty. Is it supposed to be doing this?’

My ears ring. The hull creaks, but I don’t stop the song.

I have a feeling that the Nautilus and I are really talking for the first time. She’s sharing her grief … Maybe apologizing for what happened to my parents. We’ve both lost so many people.

When the song finally ends, my face is wet with tears.

At the helm, Halimah exhales. ‘We’ve levelled off at one hundred metres. Captain, I think the Nautilus likes Adele a little too much.’

A shadow falls across the keyboard. I wonder how long Gem has been standing next to me. ‘That was amazing, Ana. You keep surprising me.’

He offers me a linen handkerchief. Where did that come from? I wonder if he always keeps it handy, which seems like a very old-fashioned Gem sort of thing to do. Or maybe he just uses it to clean his gun barrels.

A few days ago, if he’d offered me a hankie, I would’ve laughed at him. Now, I take it and dab my eyes, grateful that my back is turned to the rest of the bridge crew. ‘Thanks.’

He nods. ‘It’s okay to be emotional.’

I sniffle. Why is he being nice to me? And why is it only making me feel worse?

‘I –’ I get to my feet shakily, then set the handkerchief across the keyboard. ‘I’ll be in my quarters.’

Ester finds me there an hour later. I suspect she’s allowed me that much time to pull myself back together after my emotional-wreckage mini concert.

Top jumps onto my bed. He knows the drill. When Ana plays sad music, the only remedy is dog-cuddling.

‘That must have been hard,’ Ester tells me, picking at her thumb. ‘But it was important.’

I nod glumly, though I’m not sure I understand her meaning. ‘The Nautilus and I were communicating, I think.’