“I guess so.” I study the intricate controls. I remember the way the Nautilus reacted the first time I played the organ on the bridge. This keytar was important enough to hold in the treasury, so it must have a purpose beyond entertainment. I decide to come back later and figure it out. For now, though, I can’t shake the image of Captain Nemo dancing through the corridors of the Nautilus with his keytar, jamming to “Little Red Corvette.”

Did that song come out during the Victorian era? Close enough.

I look at Ester, still cradling the box of pearls like it’s a litter of kittens.

The sight gives me a warm sense of satisfaction. “At least something good came out of our troubles,” I tell her. “You don’t need your trustees anymore. You can rebuild Harding-Pencroft all on your own.”

Ester stiffens. “No, I wasn’t…” She hastily offers me the box of pearls. “It’s not my treasure. I would never…I would only do that if you decided—”

“Ester.” I push the box gently back to her. “I trust you. We’ll figure out the details later, but I can’t imagine a world without Harding-Pencroft Academy. As Prince Dakkar’s descendant and captain of the Nautilus, I ask you to please take this gift. I know you’ll make HP even better than it was. We will, together.”

Her mouth quivers. She blinks back tears. For a moment, I worry I may have misjudged her wishes and given her a burden she didn’t really want.

Then she says, “I love you. I’m going to put this under my bunk.”

And off she goes with Top at her heels.

As I stand alone in the treasury, I wonder if Nemo ever worried about his crew walking off with a few hundred million in gold and jewels. I guess not. What would it have mattered to him if they did? The sea gave him everything he needed.

Yet with all his wealth and advanced tech, he still ended his life bitter and defeated. He was so alone he had to trust his legacy to shipwrecked strangers.

He didn’t believe in humanity. He didn’t believe in himself. He tried and failed to change the world—and ended up being written off as a fictional character.

I think about Dev aboard the Aronnax. I remember him telling me he had to destroy HP because it was the only way to take what was rightfully ours: this ship, Nemo’s legacy.

I wish he were here now. I would punch him. Then I would give him a hug. Next I would force him to look at all this wealth and see how pointless it was for Nemo. Absolute power can corrupt anyone. Nemo knew that. In the end, all he could do was bury himself with his sub and his riches and hope that maybe someday human nature would improve to the point where we could handle his power.

And yet here we are, more than a century and a half later, still fighting over the Nautilus like it’s a prized toy in the sandbox.