Best of all, our special cargo has been loaded into the sheath along the ship’s belly.

Ester and Robbie return to the bridge after a visual inspection, both of their dive suits still dripping wet.

Robbie looks shell-shocked. “That was the most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen.”

“You mean amazing,” Ester says.

I can’t believe it actually worked. I find myself grinning.

“Don’t celebrate yet,” Gem warns. “The extra weight may make it impossible for us to use the cav-drive.”

“I heard that,” Nelinha says from the engine room. “Don’t bad-mouth my engines, Spider-Man. They’ll do just fine. Captain, waiting on your orders.”

I take my chair. I strap myself in with a newly installed alt-tech modification the Cephalopods call a “seat belt” (patent pending).

I open ship-wide communications. “All hands, this is the captain.” As if they don’t know me. “We’ve worked hard for this moment. You all know your jobs. We can do this. Assuming our course is plotted correctly—”

“It is,” Halimah assures me.

“Our cavitation shot will be two hours forty-six minutes, exit point-two kilometers south-southeast of Lincoln Base. Brace for cav-drive. Stand by battle stations. We have to expect the Aronnax will see us when we arrive.”

“They will,” Gem mutters. “The cav-drive will make us light up like an explosion.”

“Let’s not talk about explosions,” I say. “I’ll need quick targeting resolution when we arrive, Mr. Twain. Watch that LOCUS.”

He gives me a faint smile, then puts one fist on his chest and bows slightly. “Aye, Captain.” He turns back to his console.

Not long ago, I would have assumed Gem was making fun of me. Now, I realize he’s offering me a genuine show of respect and deference. The rest of the bridge crew smiles in turn and looks to me for orders. It’s time to go to work.

I square my shoulders. “Helm,” I say, “set course.”

“Course set, aye,” says Halimah.

“Engine room.” I take a deep breath. “Punch to cav-drive.”

FOOOM!

This time I remain conscious, so I can appreciate the display. Torrents of air sheet over the prow, whiting out the windows like a blizzard. The extra g-force pushes me into my seat. The lights dim. The hull creaks and shivers, but the ship stays together.

“Engine room, status,” I say, gritting my teeth. “Any injuries?”

“Status nominal,” Nelinha says. “No injuries down here. Told you she could handle it.”

The wait that follows is the hardest part. Almost three hours at heavy g-force is not fun. I feel like I have a walrus sitting on my chest. We can’t move around or do much of anything except watch our control panels. It doesn’t help that LOCUS displays don’t work during a cav-shot, so we’re essentially blind.

“Stay with me,” I whisper to the Nautilus. “We’re going to show our enemies what you can do.”

I have to believe the Nautilus understands. She’s attuned to my voice now. She’s ready to fight. I just hope she has enough tricks in her arsenal to go up against a much newer sub. We’re going to need every advantage we can get.