He’s been positioned facing west, so he has to squint into the sun whenever he looks up at Dr. Hewett. Dru and Kiya, brandishing their new Leyden guns, stand to either side of the captive. Kiya still looks grumpy from getting electrocuted. Behind Dr. Hewett stands Linzi Huang, one of the Orcas.

I’m relieved to see Linzi. It means Dr. Hewett is still following standard procedures. An Orca is supposed to be present at all important negotiations. Aside from being the school’s medics, they’re our recorders and witnesses, our school conscience. Having them around tends to keep everybody else on good behavior. I don’t really think any of my classmates would do something like beat up a prisoner to get information, but after what we’ve been through, nerves are frayed. Tempers are high.

Considering Caleb’s broken nose and the fact that he was recently body-slammed by a dolphin, he looks pretty good. The only torture he’s endured is Harding-Pencroft’s trademark form of humiliation. Around his biceps are children’s inflatable water wings, bright yellow with pink duckies. A matching inner tube circles his waist. This is how upperclassmen treat chum-year kids who prove inept at their assignments. They’re forced to wear pink duckies for an entire day. Many kids never get over the shame. Why we had some inflatables on board, I’m not sure, but I’m also not surprised.

Caleb scowls when he sees me, but he offers no snide comments. The duckies must have broken his spirit.

Hewett leans toward the prisoner. “Mr. South, tell Miss—tell Prefect Dakkar what you told me.”

Caleb curls his lip. “This boat is going to end up at the bottom of the sea.”

“Not that part,” Hewett says wearily. “The other part.”

“The Aronnax is coming.”

“Your submarine,” I say, remembering my conversation with Gem.

Caleb lets out a broken laugh. “The Aronnax is a submarine the way a Lamborghini is an economy car. But yes, genius, it’s our ship. You’ve got maybe an hour if you’re lucky. They sent us to take you alive….” He spits a flake of dried blood from his lip. “Since we failed and never reported in, they’ll follow. They’ll torpedo this hunk of junk and confirm the kill afterward.”

Confirm the kill.

I feel a coldness in my belly that’s as sharp as the edge of a fillet knife. I wonder if the Aronnax crew talked about Dev and me this way before they destroyed our school, as if we were nothing more than impersonal targets.

I want to slap him. I hold back the urge. Linzi’s presence is a calming reminder: That is not who we are. We don’t stoop to their level.

“Why the attack?” I ask Caleb. “Why me? And why did they send a bunch of students who couldn’t do the job?”

He shakes his head in disgust. “You just got lucky with that stupid dolphin. LI doesn’t coddle their students the way HP does. Destroying HP…” He gives me a bloodstained grin. “That was our senior project, and I’d say we aced it.”