I want to scream at him. I want to demand explanations. But there is no way I will open communications.

An hour ago, I would have traded the Nautilus and the entire world to talk to Dev again. Now I want to be as far away from him as possible.

“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 backward across the bridge. I feel a dull crack as my head hits metal, and everything goes dark.