“Uh…” Franklin’s face is turning almost as blue as the streak in his hair, like he’s forgotten to breathe for the last several minutes. “Okay, sir.”

“Now, Miss Dakkar—”

“Alt-tech,” I blurt out.

I feel like I’m emerging from a trance, or maybe going into one. At this point, I’m not sure I’d know the difference. I don’t even correct Hewett on the Miss Dakkar thing, which I find incredibly patronizing.

“Your class,” I say. “Theoretical Marine Science. All the bizarre, dangerous tech you talked about. It isn’t theoretical at all, is it?”

He gives me that sad expression again. “Oh, my dear, I am so sorry.”

This apology scares me worse than anything he could have said. And my dear? He’s only ever called me Prefect Dakkar (my correct title), or Miss Dakkar (which I hate), or sometimes hey, you if he’s feeling particularly perky.

It seems dangerous to keep asking questions. It feels like I’m standing on the highest cliff I’ve ever dived from. I take the plunge anyway. “You said Jules Verne reported a few things correctly. You didn’t say he foresaw or imagined. Are you telling us the events in those novels actually happened?”

Hewett sets down his Leyden gun. His fingertips linger over the elaborate wiring on the barrel. “The age-old question: Where do authors get their ideas? In the case of Verne, the answer was personal interviews. He heard rumors. He sought eyewitnesses. Those witnesses lied to him about certain details to protect themselves. Verne changed other facts to make his stories read like, well, stories. But yes, my dear, the bulk of those tales is true.”

A fragile silence descends on the bridge. The only sounds are the hum of the engines and the thump of waves breaking on the prow. The other prefects look dazed. When Hewett talks again, they lean in, as if trying to hear a voice from a century-old phonograph.

“Since the school’s founding,” he says, “we have been able to reproduce some of Nemo’s alt-tech. Much of it we still do not understand. The mission of Harding-Pencroft is to safeguard his legacy, keep his technology out of the hands of human society, and thwart Land Institute, which would use alt-tech to dominate the world. I’m afraid, as of today, the balance of power that has existed between our schools for nearly a hundred and fifty years has been broken. Land Institute is on the verge of final victory.”

I study Dr. Hewett’s aggrieved expression. My nerves feel like a shoal of herring all swimming frantically in different directions. Finally, I can’t contain the chaos anymore. I burst out laughing.

I must look like I’ve gone crazy. I can’t help it. My life has been upended again. I’ve lost my brother, my school, my future. I’ve been running on adrenaline for hours. And we’re talking about Captain Nemo!

I hug my ribs. I wheeze and blink away the tears. I’m pretty sure that when I stop laughing, I’ll cry myself to death. Franklin steps toward me. He must sense I’m near a breakdown. Even Gem and Tia look worried.