My ears ring. The hull creaks, but I don’t stop the song.

I have a feeling that the Nautilus and I are really talking for the first time. She’s sharing her grief…. Maybe apologizing for what happened to my parents. We’ve both lost so many people.

When the song finally ends, my face is wet with tears.

At the helm, Halimah exhales. “We’ve leveled off at one hundred meters. Captain, I think the Nautilus likes Adele a little too much.”

A shadow falls across the keyboard. I wonder how long Gem has been standing next to me. “That was amazing, Ana. You keep surprising me.”

He offers me a linen handkerchief. Where did that come from? I wonder if he always keeps it handy, which seems like a very old-fashioned Gem sort of thing to do. Or maybe he just uses it to clean his gun barrels.

A few days ago, if he’d offered me a hankie, I would’ve laughed at him. Now, I take it and dab my eyes, grateful that my back is turned to the rest of the bridge crew. “Thanks.”

He nods. “It’s okay to be emotional.”

I sniffle. Why is he being nice to me? And why is it only making me feel worse?

“I—” I get to my feet shakily, then set the handkerchief across the keyboard. “I’ll be in my quarters.”

Ester finds me there an hour later. I suspect she’s allowed me that much time to pull myself back together after my emotional-wreckage mini concert.

Top jumps onto my bed. He knows the drill. When Ana plays sad music, the only remedy is dog-cuddling.

“That must have been hard,” Ester tells me, picking at her thumb. “But it was important.”

I nod glumly, though I’m not sure I understand her meaning. “The Nautilus and I were communicating, I think.”

“Mm.” Ester crosses to the far side of the stateroom. She presses her hand against the wall as if checking for hot spots. “It was more than talking. The Nautilus heals better when you play.”

“Heals. Like…physically?”

Ester tilts her head. “Maybe that’s the wrong word. But the pipe organ wasn’t just made for show. The music—”

“It’s a programming language,” I realize.

Why didn’t I see that sooner? I’m a Dolphin, specializing in languages. Yet I’ve completely missed the connection between language, music, and AI. Every time I play, I’m teaching the Nautilus new cognitive pathways, altering her operating system based on my input. Dread sinks into my gut like a bowling ball. “Have I messed up?”

Ester considers this question long enough to make me really worried.

“You’ve changed the Nautilus,” she decides. “You’ve heard of imprinting?”

“Like when a baby duck imprints on its mother,” I say. “They form an attachment.”

“Or when another species of animal attaches to humans,” she says. “Dogs, for instance.”

Top thumps his tail. He knows the word dog.

“You’re saying the Nautilus is my baby duck?” I ask.

“Or maybe you’re the Nautilus’s baby duck,” Ester muses. “Either way, you’re connecting to each other. I think that’s good. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”