“All weapons offline,” Gem says. “No shielding.”

“No helm control,” says Halimah.

“Depth forty-two meters,” Lee-Ann reports. “I’ve only got analog readings, but the Aronnax…Oh.” Her voice shrinks. “There she is.”

She’s not looking at her controls. She’s looking out the windows.

For the first time, I see the enemy sub in person.

About fifty meters away through the clear blue water, the Aronnax looms over us. She appears smaller than the Nautilus, though much more sinister—a black triangle of death with zero sonar profile. Disappointingly, I see no damage on her hull from our torpedo. I doubt we look as intact or dangerous to them.

“Comm, can you pick up anything?” I ask. Then I remember Virgil is on the floor and his station is on fire.

The Nautilus responds to my request instead. The loudspeaker crackles. Garbled voices come over the line—Dev yelling from the skiff; a young woman’s voice yelling back from the Aronnax’s bridge. Apparently, Dev is miffed about her decision to fire a full complement of torpedoes at near point-blank range. His prize could’ve been destroyed. He could have been destroyed.

My mouth tastes like the bottom of a barbecue pit. Dev isn’t worried about me or any of the other lives on the Nautilus. He really is someone I don’t know.

“Engine room,” I say. “Nelinha, status?”

No answer. I can’t even be sure the engine room is still in one piece.

Over the comm, Dev snaps at his comrade on the Aronnax’s bridge. “Boarding party on our approach again. Now back off, Karen!”

Karen’s exasperated sigh could ignite kindling. “If the Nautilus tries any more tricks, I will blast her to pieces, whether or not you’re on board!”

My bridge crew looks at me with a mix of desperation and hope. I must have another idea, another ace to play. Except I don’t.

My heart compresses into a lump of nemonium. “Prepare for boarding. Issue Leyden guns to any of the crew still willing and able to fight. We’ll have to”—I gaze out the window—“wait.”

“Wait?” Ester asks, confused.

I fumble to unlatch my seat belt. I run to the giant bug’s-eye dome to get a front-row view as our payload returns from the deep.

Why he chose this exact moment to emerge, I don’t know, but the ways of lovesick giant octopuses are mysterious. Romeo’s enormous tentacles wrap around the Aronnax, pulling her into an embrace. Our comm fills with screams from the enemy sub. I imagine her entire crew tumbling sideways into the starboard walls.

Romeo’s bulbous head pulses with excitement as he shows his new friend some affection. I’ve heard all about you, he seems to be thinking. You need a hug.

At the same time, as if the Nautilus has a sense of humor, our cold-fusion reactor decides to come back online. The purple bridge lights glow. LOCUS displays flicker to life.

Nelinha’s voice says, “Sorry, Captain. Still not at full power, but…” She falters, probably checking her external displays. “VIXE MARIA what—? Oh, YES, BABY! That’s my cephalopod!”