Dru steps forward, raising the butt of his Leyden gun, but Gem stops him with a stern look.

Caleb watches the exchange with obvious amusement. “As for why you, Ana Dakkar…You really don’t know anything, do you?” He glances at Dr. Hewett. “I guess the professor hasn’t told you the truth about HP. Were you even trained in Leyden guns until today? Did you even know they exist?”

An uncomfortable ripple goes through our group.

“That’s what I thought,” Caleb says. “At LI, we aren’t afraid to use our knowledge. How many world problems could you cowards have solved if you just shared?”

Behind me, Gem says, “Shared what, exactly?”

“You had two years.” Caleb sounds bitter, even regretful. “You could have cooperated with us. You could have negotiated.”

I can’t tell if the ship is pitching or if it’s my own lack of equilibrium. Two years since my parents’ death. Two years Hewett has been fearing an attack. Two years in which Caleb says Harding-Pencroft could have negotiated.

I fix my eyes on Dr. Hewett. “What happened two years ago?”

His gaze is sadder than Top’s when he begs for dog biscuits. “We will have that conversation soon, my dear. I promise.”

Caleb snorts. “You aren’t really stupid enough to believe Hewett’s promises, are you? He promised us a bunch of stuff, too, when he was at LI.”

Hewett’s knuckles whiten as he clenches his fists. “That’s enough, Mr. South.”

“Professor, how about you tell them what you were working on for LI back when I was a freshman?” Caleb suggests. “Before you lost your nerve. Tell them who had the idea for the Aronnax.”

He might as well have thrown another flash-bang grenade. My skull rings like a struck bell.

Gem takes a sharp breath. “Professor, what is he talking about?”

Hewett looks more annoyed than ashamed. “I did many things I wasn’t proud of at LI, Prefect Twain, before I knew what they were capable of.” He returns his glare to our prisoner. “And today, Mr. South, Land Institute proved why they can never be trusted with advanced technology. You destroyed a noble institution.”

“Noble institution? You were protecting the legacy of an outlaw.” Caleb squirms in his pink-ducky inner tube. “If you’re going to kill me, go ahead and do it. This thing is uncomfortable.”

Dru and Kiya stare coldly at Dr. Hewett. Even Linzi looks shaken. Maybe, like me, they didn’t know before today that Hewett once worked at Land Institute. But it’s worse than that. Dr. Hewett had the idea for the Aronnax. He helped create the weapon that destroyed our school and killed my brother.

“We don’t execute prisoners,” Hewett announces. “Dru, Kiya, throw him overboard.”

Caleb’s arrogant expression crumbles. “Hold on—”

“Sir,” Linzi protests.

“He’ll be fine,” Hewett assures her. “He has his buoyancy-control vest, his wetsuit, his water wings. Guards, proceed.”

Dru and Kiya look like they’re tempted to dump the professor instead, but after a glance at Gemini Twain, the Sharks follow orders. They untie Caleb from his chair, then drag him thrashing and cursing to the port side and chuck him into the sea.