Jack returns, out of breath from his run through the ship. “No problems,” he reports.

Nelinha announces over the intercom: “Camouflage active, babe. I mean Captain. Captain babe.”

A moment later, the LOCUS displays flicker to life again.

“We’re out,” Halimah sighs.

“Yes!” Lee-Ann gives her a round of applause. Jack whoops and pumps his fist. From the hallway behind us, I hear the echoes of cheers from the rest of the crew.

Our enthusiasm doesn’t last.

“Ana!” Gem shouts, forgetting the whole “Captain” thing. “I’ve pinpointed the Aronnax.” He turns, his expression grim. “That explosion? It didn’t just hit the north side of the atoll. The north side of the atoll is gone.”

Gem flips a switch. His tactical holosphere expands, showing us a 3-D view of Lincoln Base. The main island rises from the lagoon, ringed by the atoll that used to be an almost perfect concentric circle. Now, in addition to the channel the Varuna navigated through a few days ago, there’s a much larger break in the northern rim. A section of beach and brambles the size of a soccer field has simply disappeared into the sea.

The purple blip of the Nautilus glows at the southern edge of the display. Directly opposite us, to the north of the broken atoll, floats a second purple dot: the Aronnax.

Weapons fire traces like shooting stars across the holosphere, back and forth between the Aronnax and the turrets along what’s left of the atoll. One after another, the island’s defenses go dark.

My mouth feels full of wet sand. “Gem, can you zoom in on the attacker?”

He fiddles with another knob. Suddenly, I am seeing the Aronnax up close and personal—or at least her holographic image.

As we saw on Dr. Hewett’s fuzzy drone footage, the ship is shaped like an arrowhead—as if Land Institute retrofitted a stealth bomber for underwater use. Surrounding its hull is a fuzzy violet halo that seems to be soaking up the discharges from the base’s defenses.

“What is that?” I ask. “Some kind of shield?”

No one has an answer. We stare in horror as the Aronnax continues its slow and steady advance toward the island.

Virgil turns. “Ana…Captain…if they hit the main base with one of those seismic torpedoes—”

“They wouldn’t,” Ester says. “Not if they think their prize is inside.”

Their prize.

I clutch my armrests. I have never hated anything as much as I hate the Aronnax, but Ester is right. The Nautilus and I are prizes in a game of keep-away. We can’t be combatants in this fight.

“Orders, Captain?” Halimah sounds composed, but her hands tremble over the nav controls—usually not a good thing for a pilot.

I imagine Dr. Hewett lying in his medical bed, Franklin shielding him as debris rains from the ceiling. I picture Lincoln Base’s corridors shaking, its lights flickering, Tia, Luca, and Ophelia running desperately from one control panel to another, trying to maintain power as their weapons systems are systematically destroyed.