Page 79 of Daughter of the Deep

The fireplace glows cheerfully. I don’t know who started it, and I still don’t know how it works or where the smoke goes, but it does take some of the damp chill out of the air. I wouldn’t evenknow we were underwater except for the window looking out on the blue void, with the occasional silvertip shark swimming past.

I’m grateful for Ester’s company. I’m sure she has a million other things to do, but I imagine she also realizes that if she wasn’t watching me, I’d jump out of my chair and start working.

‘Relax,’ she chides me again.

It’s difficult to relax when someone keeps telling you to relax.

Only a few days ago, Ester and I sat in a different library, on board theVaruna, and I was trying to look afterher. Now we’ve switched roles.

I flip the pages of the novel. I stop on an illustration of an underwater funeral. A dozen people in old-fashioned dive suits gather solemnly around a grave. I remember the scene – one of Captain Nemo’s crew members had died – but I don’t remember the details. I hope finding this picture isn’t an omen.

‘Why did Dev do it?’ I murmur. ‘How could he have …?’

I can’t even put his betrayal into words. He lied to me, put a tracker on me, collaborated with our enemies. He destroyed our school, killed our teachers and fellow students … all for the sake of a submarine.

Ester puts down her pen. She stares at a spot just above my head. ‘Why do you think he did it?’

Oof. I forgot Orcas train in psychology. Still, her question is a good one.

I trace my fingers across the funeral illustration. ‘Our parents’ death. He blamed Harding-Pencroft.’

‘Did he ever tell you that?’ she asks. ‘I mean, before he broadcast it from theAronnax?’

I shake my head. ‘He always tried to stay positive for me. He was the perfect big brother. I guess I never thought about what might be going on behind that smile …’

It’s disturbing to think how little I knew about Dev. It’s evenmore disturbing to realize that he was holding together his positive facade for my sake, while inside he was stewing in bitterness.

I never saw it. Or at least I neverletmyself see it. Land Institute obviously did. They used it to turn him against HP, and me.

‘Captain Nemo had a lot of anger, too.’ Ester speaks in a monotone, as if recalling a dream from years ago. ‘When Ned Land and Professor Aronnax met him, he terrified them. The British had killed Nemo’s wife and oldest child. He hated the European powers. He wanted to dismantle their empires. He destroyed their ships, funded rebellions. If Nemo was around today, the world governments would probably call him –’

‘A terrorist.’ I remember Caleb South’s accusation about Harding-Pencroft:You were protecting the legacy of an outlaw.

Ester nods. ‘Land Institute has always been motivated by fear and anger. They want to destroy Nemo’s legacy. But they also want tobeNemo.’

I study the book’s illustration. It’s hard to reconcile the idea of Nemo the terrorist with Nemo the brilliant inventor. Then again, our labels always depend on who’s doing the labelling. Patriot, freedom fighter, terrorist, thug. Prince Dakkar was a brown man fighting the colonizers. I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t have helped his reputation in Europe.

‘Wait …’ I refocus on Ester. ‘Are you saying I shouldn’t judge Dev too harshly? Or …?’

Ester picks up a new index card. She frowns at it, as if the lines aren’t quite parallel. ‘I’m just saying that people are complicated. Nemo was a different man by the time Harding and Pencroft met him: older, bitter, disillusioned. That’s why he wanted his technology hidden away and guarded. HP was motivated by Nemo’s caution – paranoia, even. So you’ve got two completely different schools, Land Institute and Harding-Pencroft, inspired by different sides of the same person.’

My head throbs. The alt-tech aspirin seems to be stitching my skull back together in the most painful way possible. ‘Those are my two choices of which Nemo I want to be? The angry one or the paranoid one?’

‘No.’ Ester jots something down – hopefully not therapy notes. ‘Maybe Dev fell into that trap. He thought he had to choose. Maybe you don’t have to. You both have some Dakkar personality traits, sure. But you can decide to be a different kind of Captain Nemo.’

I stare at Ester, amazed by how obvious she makes it all sound.

‘I just want to do the right thing,’ I say.

‘So does Dev, I bet,’ Ester says. ‘The difference is, you have the sub. You have Nemo’s resources. You could build an entirely new Harding-Pencroft, if you wanted to. I’d like to help.’

‘Nemo’s resources?’ I get the feeling she’s not just talking about his cold-fusion engine, or his cav-drive, or his copious reservoir of seaweed slime.

Ester checks her watch. ‘Hasn’t been an hour yet, but I guess you’ve rested long enough. Come on. There’s one more door I want you to unlock.’

Every time I think theNautiluscan’t surprise me any more, I find out I’m wrong.

On the sub’s lowest level, in the back of the main storeroom, crates have been moved aside to reveal a large metal vault door like the one that leads to the subterranean lake in Lincoln Base.

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