Part 1 · Chapter 22“ægri Somnia”

The next day, January tenth, the Nautilus kept going between two oceans, but seriously fast - I figured she was doing at least thirty-five miles an hour. The propeller was spinning so quickly I couldn’t even follow or count it.

Thinking about how this amazing electric thing gave us movement, heat, and light, and still protected the Nautilus from attacks, turning her into a super-safe haven that no one could mess with without getting zapped, I was totally blown away.

My admiration went from the ship itself to the engineer who built it.

We were headed west, and on January eleventh, we rounded Cape Wessel, which is at one hundred and thirty-five degrees longitude and ten degrees north latitude - that’s the east point of the Gulf of Carpentaria. There were still a lot of reefs, but they were more spread out, and the chart showed them super accurately.

The Nautilus easily avoided the breakers near Money to port and the Victoria reefs to starboard, located at one hundred and thirty degrees longitude and the tenth parallel - which we followed closely.

On January thirteenth, Captain Nemo reached the Sea of Timor and recognized the island of that name, at one hundred and twenty-two degrees longitude.

From there, the Nautilus turned southwest. She was pointed towards the Indian Ocean. Where would Captain Nemo’s imagination take us next? Would he go back to the coast of Asia, or approach the shores of Europe again? Both were pretty unlikely for a guy who’s escaping populated continents.

Maybe he's going south? Was he planning to round the Cape of Good Hope, then Cape Horn, and eventually reach the Antarctic pole? Would he eventually return to the Pacific, where his Nautilus could sail freely and independently? Only time would tell.

After passing the sands of Cartier, Hibernia, Seringapatam, and Scott - the last stands of solid ground against the water - on January fourteenth, we completely lost sight of land. The Nautilus slowed down a lot, and she sometimes swam deep in the water, sometimes floated on the surface.

During this part of the trip, Captain Nemo did some cool experiments on the different temperatures of the ocean at different depths.

Usually, scientists use complicated equipment to do this, but the results are often unreliable because the thermometers break under pressure, or the electrical equipment malfunctions.

Captain Nemo, though, went down himself to test the temperature, and his thermometer, connected to the different layers of water, gave him the exact reading right away.

So, by filling her tanks or tilting her planes, the Nautilus dove to depths of three, four, five, seven, nine, and ten thousand yards. The final result was that the ocean maintained an average temperature of four and a half degrees at a depth of five thousand fathoms, no matter where we were.

On January sixteenth, the Nautilus seemed stuck, just a few yards below the surface. Her electric systems were off, and her motionless propeller left her drifting with the currents. I figured the crew was working on some repairs inside, needed because of all the machine’s movements.

My friends and I saw something really weird. The saloon doors were open, and since the Nautilus’s lights weren't on, everything was super dim underwater. I checked out the ocean - the biggest fish looked like faint shadows - when suddenly the Nautilus zipped into bright light.

I thought the beacon had kicked on, blasting electric light into the water. But I was wrong. After a quick look around, I realized what was happening.

The Nautilus was floating in a glowing bed of light that was totally dazzling in the darkness. It was caused by tons of tiny, glowing creatures whose light got even brighter as they moved over the metal hull of the ship.

I was shocked by flashes of lightning in these glowing sheets, like rivers of molten metal or superheated metal glowing white-hot. Because of the contrast, some spots of light looked like they were casting shadows, even though it seemed like everything was lit up.

But this wasn’t the calm lightning we’re used to. It was full of energy and life - truly living light!

Basically, it was a huge bunch of colorful, microscopic creatures, like tiny blobs of jelly with threadlike tentacles. Scientists have counted up to twenty-five thousand of them in just a couple of cubic inches of water!

For hours, the Nautilus floated in these glowing waves, and we were totally blown away watching the sea creatures swim around like they were salamanders.

I saw the fast and graceful porpoises - like the ocean’s ultimate goofballs - and some swordfish that were ten feet long, those spooky signs of an upcoming hurricane. Their huge swords would occasionally bump against the windows of the saloon.

Then came the smaller fish, like the balista, leaping mackerel, and wolf-fish, all flashing through the glowing atmosphere as they swam. It was an absolutely amazing sight! Maybe some weird weather made the glow even brighter. Maybe a storm was stirring up the surface.

But way down here, a few yards deep, the Nautilus was totally calm, floating peacefully in still water.

We kept going, constantly amazed by something new. The days flew by, and I totally lost track of time. Ned, like always, tried to spice up the food on board. We were basically stuck to our seats, and I swear, living on the Nautilus is like living a snail's life!

This life felt easy and normal, and we forgot all about the life we used to have on land. But then something happened that reminded us just how strange our situation really was.

On January eighteenth, the Nautilus was at one hundred and five° longitude and fifteen° South latitude. The weather looked threatening, and the sea was choppy. There was a strong east wind. The barometer had been dropping for days, which meant a storm was coming.

I went up to the deck just as the second lieutenant was measuring the angles, and I waited, like I always did, for the daily report. But this time, the usual phrase was replaced with something even more confusing.

Almost immediately, I saw Captain Nemo appear with binoculars, staring out at the horizon.

He stood frozen for a while, eyes glued to what he was looking at. Then he lowered his binoculars and exchanged a few words with his lieutenant. The lieutenant seemed really shaken up, trying to hide it. Captain Nemo, who had more control, stayed cool.

He also seemed to be making some points, which the lieutenant responded to with formal promises. At least, that’s what I gathered from the difference in their voices and body language. I’d looked carefully in the direction he’s pointed, but I didn’t see anything.

The sky and water just blended into a clear line on the horizon.

But Captain Nemo paced back and forth across the platform, without even glancing at me, maybe not even noticing me. His steps were steady, but not as even as usual. He stopped sometimes, crossed his arms, and watched the sea. What was he looking for out there on that huge expanse?

The Nautilus was hundreds of miles from the nearest land.

The lieutenant had grabbed the binoculars again and scanned the horizon, moving back and forth, tapping his foot, and showing way more nervous energy than his boss. Besides, this mystery needed to be solved, and soon.

Because, at Captain Nemo’s order, the engine kicked into high gear, making the propeller spin faster.

Just then, the lieutenant got the Captain's attention again. The Captain stopped walking and pointed his binoculars toward where the lieutenant was looking. He stared for a long time. I was totally confused, so I headed to the lounge and grabbed a really good telescope that I usually used.

Then, leaning against the railing that jutted out from the front of the platform, I started scanning the sky and sea.

But the second I put my eye to the telescope, someone snatched it out of my hands.

I turned around. It was Captain Nemo, but I didn't recognize him. His face was completely changed. His eyes flashed angrily; his teeth were clenched; his stiff body, clenched fists, and head hunched between his shoulders showed the intense agitation that shook him. He didn't move.

My telescope, dropped from his hands, rolled to his feet.

Had I accidentally upset him? Did this strange guy think I’d discovered some secret he wanted to keep hidden? No, he wasn't mad at me; his eyes were fixed on that distant point on the horizon. Finally, Captain Nemo seemed to calm down. His agitation faded.

He spoke a few words in a foreign language to his lieutenant, then turned to me.

"M. Aronnax," he said, in a sharp tone, "you need to follow one of the rules that bind you to me." "What is it, Captain?"

"You and your companions are confined until I say otherwise."

"You’re in charge," I replied, looking him straight in the eye.

"But could I ask you one question?" "No."

There was no arguing with that, it would have been pointless. I went down to the cabin where Ned Land and Conseil were, and told them what the Captain had said. You can imagine how the Canadian reacted.

But there wasn’t time for a fight. Four crew members waited at the door and led us to that cell where we’d spent our first night on the Nautilus.

Ned Land wanted to protest, but the door slammed shut behind him.

"Master, what does this mean?" asked Conseil.

I told my companions what had happened. They were as shocked as I was, and just as puzzled about why.

Meanwhile, I was lost in my own thoughts, and couldn’t shake the strange fear I’d seen on the Captain’s face. I couldn’t figure it out, when these words from Ned Land interrupted my thoughts: "Hey! Breakfast is ready."

And for real, the table was already set. Clearly, Captain Nemo had given that order at the same time he sped up the Nautilus.

"Will master let me suggest something?" asked Conseil. "Go ahead, my boy."

"Well, it's just that master should eat breakfast. It's a good idea, 'cause we don't know what might happen." "You’re right, Conseil."

"Unfortunately," said Ned Land, "they only gave us what the ship provides."

"Friend Ned," asked Conseil, "what would you have said if they’d totally forgotten the food?" That stopped the harpooner’s complaining, for sure.

We sat down to eat. The meal was totally silent. Suddenly, the glowing ball that lit the room went out, and we were plunged into complete darkness. Ned Land was out like a light, and what surprised me was that Conseil just crashed.

I was wondering what could have made him so sleepy, when I felt my brain getting fuzzy. Even though I tried to keep my eyes open, they just kept closing. A creepy thought hit me. Obviously, something to make you sleepy had been mixed into our food.

Being locked up wasn't enough to hide Captain Nemo’s plans from us; sleep was even more important. Then I heard the panels slide shut. The rolling of the sea stopped completely. Had the Nautilus left the surface of the ocean? Had it gone back to the still water below? I tried to fight off the sleep.

It was impossible. My breathing got shallow. I felt an icy chill freeze my stiff and numb limbs. My eyelids felt like heavy weights, falling closed. I couldn’t lift them; a weird, dream-filled sleep took over, erasing me. Then the visions faded, leaving me completely unconscious.