I took a big step forward, off the dock and onto the metal walkway that led to the top of the sub, not the sticking-up part of the sub, but the topside of its nose. I don’t know the technical term.

There was an open hatch there, and I strode toward it, trying to keep abject terror from showing on my face. I began to climb down the ladder, managing a smile and a wave that I hoped was at least in the neighborhood of jaunty. Then Gazzy stepped on the walkway, followed by Total, and I knew the others weren’t far behind.

There was no going back now.

Get this: if there was nothing inside the submarine, it might not be so bad. It really was a great big one. On the outside. On the inside, it was crammed chock-full of people, walls of instruments, panels of lights and switches, huge pipes and bundles of thick cables — basically, there was hardly any room to walk. And we’re skinny.

There were not enough relaxation tapes in the world to get me through this.

Then Fang came up behind me and put his hand on my waist, just for a second. And I felt a little better.

The two officers zipped down the ladder, and one of them shouted the order to seal the hatch. Then he looked at us, these six weird, mostly tall, somewhat ungroomed children who had permission to be on a naval submarine. Plus their dog, who almost seemed like he could talk.

“Come with me,” he said. “The birds are working again.”

48

WALKING THROUGH the narrow corridors of the sub was like being inside someone’s intestines, like we were making our way through the digestive tract. I kept expecting the Magic School Bus to show up and dump bile on us.

I absolutely refused to think about the fact that we were sealed inside this thing, sinking below the surface of the water. I kept repeating, We’re saving my mom, over and over inside my head.

The officer stopped outside a door. All the doorways on a sub are shaped like Vienna Fingers cookies, kind of oblong. Each door has a sill about six inches high so that if the sub springs a leak and water gets in, each room can be sealed off. Oh, God, I was gonna die.

We stepped over the threshold and found ourselves in a small conference room. A tall man with short silver hair and dark brown eyes stood up and smiled. “I’m Captain Joshua Perry,” he said, coming to shake hands with all of us. “I understand we have a mission to accomplish.”

This wasn’t what I was expecting.

Your mind creates your reality. If you expect nothing, you open up the universe to give you options. If you expect the worst, you usually get it.