A CLUNK echoes through the corridors. The bridge lights suddenly dim.

“Hey, Captain,” Nelinha breaks in. “We’re stressing the old choo-choo engine. Maybe take it easy on the fancy maneuvers?”

“Just a little longer,” I tell her, hoping it’s true.

Our octopus-in-the-hole gamble has not paid off yet. Romeo is nowhere to be seen. I’m disappointed, but not surprised. I knew I was playing with things I didn’t understand.

On Halimah’s LOCUS, the enemy skiff is pulling away from us. The Aronnax turns her prow in our direction, trying to keep us in her sights. She seems to be moving sluggishly—or maybe that’s just my wishful thinking.

“Captain, torpedo in the water!” Gem yells.

“Fire second tube! Rig for depth charge!”

The floor shudders as our last working missile leaves the tube. This time, out the bridge windows, I can actually see the white wake line cutting through the blue. I hold my breath. I watch Gem’s LOCUS as two purple blips—our torpedo and theirs—hurtle toward each other. I don’t need the LOCUS to tell me when they collide. The explosion rolls the Nautilus on her starboard side, her hull groaning like she’s got intestinal distress. Only my newfangled seat belt keeps me from flying into the pipe organ.

Gem glances back, his eyes wide. “That was a seismic charge. If it had hit us…”

He doesn’t need to spell it out. Somebody on the bridge of the Aronnax is getting angry—or possibly panicked. With or without Dev’s permission, they are shooting to kill.

I make a fist. This time, the military maxim that comes to mind isn’t from Eisenhower—it’s from the Chinese general Sun Tzu: Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.

“Helm, turn us about,” I say. “Take us directly toward the Aronnax.”

Halimah and Lee-Ann both look at me like maybe they misheard.

“Captain—” Halimah stops herself, apparently tamping down her misgivings. “Aye, Captain. Bringing us about.”

The ship groans louder as we level off and turn.

“Engine room,” Nelinha says. “Captain, about that stress on the choo-choo—”

“I know, Nelinha,” I say. “Just keep her together a little longer, please. Weapons, power up the forward Leyden cannon. Stand by for Leidenfrost shielding. Comm, can you open a channel to the Aronnax and its skiff?”

“Aye, Captain,” Virgil says. “Channel open.”

I press my hand against the armrest’s control sphere, as if it can reassure me that I do in fact have Nemo’s DNA. This is the first time I’ve spoken to Dev since his betrayal. It’s the first time I’ve announced myself to our enemies. I can’t have my voice trembling.

“Aronnax,” I say. “This is Captain Ana Dakkar of the Nautilus. Stand down or you will be destroyed.”

Silence.

The hardest thing about making a stupid bluff is reminding yourself that your opponent doesn’t know it’s a stupid bluff. The Aronnax has seen us recover from an EMP blast. They’ve seen us fire two torpedoes. They won’t know if we have any more. They won’t know what other capabilities we might have.