“A misunderstanding?” I don’t mean to shout, but she’s talking about my parents’ deaths. I don’t feel like remaining calm.

Ophelia grimaces. She faces Ester.

“Would you like to explain, my dear?” Ophelia says. “I can tell you’ve figured it out.”

Ester picks at her blouse. “Ana, like I said, your parents’ death wasn’t an accident. The submarine killed them. I’m so sorry.”

My legs turn wobbly. “You make it sound like it was on purpose.”

“It must have been angry,” Ester says. “It had been sitting at the bottom of the ocean for a hundred and fifty years. Nemo abandoned it.”

“Nemo died inside it,” Ophelia says grimly.

“Even worse,” Ester says. “It didn’t have anyone to maintain its systems.”

“Angry?” I still refuse to understand. “Abandoned? How can a sub feel… ?”

Dread washes over me. Some things I just do not want to realize, even when all the evidence is right there in front of me. “No,” I say. “You can’t be serious.”

“Yes, my dear,” Ophelia says. “Nemo created a prototype of what we would call AI, artificial intelligence. The Nautilus is alive.”

Chapter Thirty-One

My whole life has led to this moment.

My parents sacrificed everything. I lost my school and my brother. My classmates risked their lives to cross the Pacific Ocean. Generations of Dakkars, Hardings, and other HP graduates have lifted me onto their shoulders, living and dying in the expectation that someday a descendant of Nemo might once again board his submarine.

And all I want to do is run away.

When you dive, you learn to equalize pressure in your ear canals by pinching your nose and gently puffing air into your sinuses. The deeper you go, the more you need to do it. Otherwise your head starts to feel like a can of soda in the freezer. (Hint: Never put a can of soda in the freezer.)

I wish there was a way to equalize my brain emotionally. I keep getting deeper and deeper. The pressure keeps getting worse. I can’t just pinch my nose and adapt to each new level of misery.

First, I believed my parents died in an accident. Then I was told they died recovering a priceless scientific artifact. Now I’m informed that this artifact is a living thing, and it killed my parents—maybe on purpose, maybe not. Gee, we really don’t know.

Oh, and by the way, it’s right through this door. Would I like to meet it?

I’m not fully aware when I cross the bank-vault threshold. My mind is too busy seesawing between rage and terror. I hear Ophelia saying, “Come.”

Nelinha takes me by the elbow. “I got you, babe. Let’s go.”