Dr. Hewett arches his shaggy eyebrows. “Oh, yes. You are Captain Nemo now. The Nautilus has accepted you. The remaining students have accepted you. And the faculty…what remains of us…we have seen your potential. We will assist you, continue your training if you wish. But you will set our course. Whatever you decide, we are here for you.”

I’m grateful to hear this, but I also feel strangely uneasy. I wonder if this is what it means to be a leader, and if the doubts ever go away.

“I have to talk to Ester,” I tell him. “And the rest of the class, of course. But, yes, I think I know what happens next….”

Chapter Sixty-One

The answer is dinner.

The answer is always dinner.

First, I check with Ester. She is in complete agreement with my plan. Then I run my ideas past Gem and Nelinha. They are both on board. Nelinha’s only comment is “Of course. Duh.”

Top listens and wags his tail, which either means he loves the way I think, or he wants a treat.

That night, the entire crew gathers around the dining table in the main hall of Lincoln Base. The Great British Bake Off is playing in the background—our comfort soundtrack of choice. Jupiter waddles around, handing out plates of crespelle alla fiorentina. The wafer-thin pancakes are made from porphyra flour and buttery-tasting algae oil. The “ricotta-and-spinach” filling is carrageen-moss extract and seaweed. The sauce…You know what? I don’t care. I’m just going to eat it, because it tastes good.

Luca regales the crew with stories about how he resisted the Land Institute attack on the island. We’ve already heard them a dozen times, but each time they get more elaborate. Ophelia just shakes her head and smirks, occasionally pulling her husband toward her and kissing him.

“I have married a brilliant man who is also an idiot,” she muses. “How is this possible?”

After we’ve finished our main course, I ask Gem to turn down The Great British Bake Off. I clink a fork against my glass to get everyone’s attention. I rise, because this feels like something I should stand up for.

“Crew of the Nautilus,” I say, “freshman class of Harding-Pencroft, we’re only alive today because of your brilliance and bravery.”

Nelinha raises her glass. “Here’s to being alive!”

This gets some laughs. Glasses are clinked.

When the noise dies down, I forge ahead. “Now we have choices to make. I know that many of you…” My voice falters. “Many of you have families on the mainland. You’ll want to let them know you’re still alive, probably spend the summer at home. After what we’ve been through, some of you may decide you’re done with this craziness and you want a normal high school experience.”

“Normal?” Franklin mutters, like it’s the worst insult he can think of.