Part 2 · Chapter 22The Last Words of Captain Nemo

The panels had closed on that awful sight, but the lights hadn’t come back on in the main room - it was totally silent and dark inside the Nautilus. Going super fast, about a hundred feet below the water, it was leaving that desolate spot. Where was it headed? North or south?

Where was that guy flying to after such a crazy revenge? I went back to my room, where Ned and Conseil were quiet as could be. I felt totally creeped out by Captain Nemo. Whatever he’s been through at the hands of those guys, he had no right to punish like that.

He’s made me, if not an accomplice, at least a witness to his vengeance. Around eleven, the electric lights flickered back on. I went into the main room. It was empty. I checked the instruments.

The Nautilus was speeding north at twenty-five miles an hour, sometimes on the surface, sometimes thirty feet below. Checking the chart, I realized we were passing the entrance to the English Channel, and our course was rushing us towards the northern seas at a crazy speed.

That night, we crossed two hundred leagues of the Atlantic. Darkness fell, and the sea was black until the moon came up. I went to my room, but I couldn't sleep. I had awful nightmares. That horrible scene of destruction kept flashing before my eyes.

From that day on, who knew what part of the North Atlantic we’d end up in? Still unbelievably fast. Still lost in those northern fogs. Would we stop at Svalbard, or on the shores of Nova Zembla?

Would we explore those unknown seas, the White Sea, the Kara Sea, the Gulf of Obi, the Liarrov Archipelago, and the unknown coast of Asia? I had no idea. I couldn’t even guess how much time was passing. The clocks on board had stopped.

It felt like, as in the polar regions, night and day no longer followed their normal pattern. I felt like I was being pulled into that weird zone where Edgar Poe’s imagination ran wild.

Like the fictional Gordon Pym, I expected to see "that veiled human figure, bigger than any person on Earth, thrown across the waterfall guarding the way to the pole" at any moment. I figured (though maybe I was wrong) - I estimated this wild journey of the Nautilus had lasted fifteen or twenty days.

And I had no clue how much longer it might have lasted, if it hadnn't been for the disaster that ended this trip. I hadn’t seen anything of Captain Nemo or his second in charge. Not a single crew member was visible for even a second. The Nautilus was almost always underwater.

When we surfaced to get fresh air, the panels opened and closed automatically. There were no more markings on the world map. I had no idea where we were. And the Canadian, too, his strength and patience gone, didn’t show up anymore.

Conseil couldn’t get a word out of him; and, fearing he might snap and kill himself, watched him with constant care. One morning (I couldn’t even remember the date) I’d fallen into a deep, painful sleep early in the morning, when I suddenly woke up.

Ned Land was leaning over me, saying in a quiet voice, "We’re going to get out of here." I sat up. "When are we going?" I asked.

"Tonight. Everything on the Nautilus seems to have stopped. Everyone looks totally zoned out. You’ll be ready, right?" "Yeah; where are we?"

"We can see land. I figured it out this morning in the fog - twenty miles to the east." "What country is it?"

"I don’t know; but, whatever it is, we’ll find refuge there."

"Yeah, Ned, yeah. We’re getting out of here tonight, even if the sea swallows us up."

"The sea is rough, the wind is strong, but twenty miles in that little boat of the Nautilus doesn’t scare me. Without anyone knowing, I’ve managed to get some food and a few bottles of water."

"I’ll follow you." "But," the Canadian continued, "if I get caught off guard, I’m defending myself; I’m making them kill me."

"We’re dying together, friend Ned."

I’d made up my mind about everything. The Canadian left me. I got to the deck, where I could barely stand against the waves crashing over. The sky looked threatening, but with land hidden in those deep shadows, we had to go.

I went back inside, both scared and hoping to see Captain Nemo, wanting to see him but not wanting to. What could I even say to him? Could I hide the fear he gave me? No. It was better not to face him; better to forget him. But still - - How long that day felt, the last I’d spend on the Nautilus.

"I was alone. Ned Land and Conseil didn’t talk, afraid of letting something slip. At six, I ate dinner, but I wasn’t hungry; I forced myself to eat despite feeling sick, so I wouldn’t get weak. A little after six, Ned Land came to my room, saying, "We won’t see each other again before we leave.

It’s ten o’clock, and the moon won’t be up yet. We’ll use the darkness. Come to the boat; Conseil and I will be waiting.

"The Canadian left without giving me time to reply. To check where the Nautilus was headed, I went to the main room. We were speeding along N.N.E. at an insane speed, and over fifty yards deep."

I took one last look at all the natural wonders, at the incredible art piled up in this museum, at the amazing collection about to disappear at the bottom of the ocean with the man who’s created it. I wanted to burn the image into my memory.

I stood there for an hour, bathed in the glow of that luminous ceiling, looking at all the treasures shining behind their glass cases. Then I went back to my room. I changed into sturdy sea clothes. I gathered my notes, putting them safely around me. My heart was pounding. I couldn’t stop it.

Definitely, my worry and nerves would have given me away to Captain Nemo’s eyes. What was he doing right now? I listened at his door. I heard footsteps. Captain Nemo was still up. He hadn’t gone to bed. Every moment, I expected him to appear and ask me why I wanted to escape. I was totally on edge.

My imagination was running wild. The feeling became so intense that I thought about going to his room, seeing him face to face, and challenging him with a look and a gesture. It was a crazy idea; thankfully, I fought it off and lay on my bed to calm my body.

My nerves were a little calmer, but in my excited brain, I replayed everything that happened on the Nautilus - every event, good or bad, since I disappeared from the Abraham Lincoln - the submarine hunt, the Torres Straits, the people of Papua, the near-run aground, the coral graveyard, the Suez Canal, the Island of Santorin, the diver from Crete, Vigo Bay, Atlantis, the iceberg, the South Pole, being trapped in the ice, the fight with the giant squids, the storm in the Gulf Stream, the Avenger, and the horrible scene of the ship sinking with all its crew.

It all flashed before my eyes like a play. Then Captain Nemo seemed to grow enormous, his features taking on a superhuman look. He wasn't my equal anymore, but a creature of the water, a genie of the sea. It was almost ten-thirty. I held my head in my hands to stop it from exploding.

I closed my eyes; I wouldn’t think anymore. There was another half-hour to go, another half-hour of a nightmare that could drive me crazy.

I heard the distant organ music then, a sad, haunting melody mixed with a weird chant, like a soul yearning to break free from this world. I listened, holding my breath; totally lost in the music, like Captain Nemo, pulled towards the end of his life.

Then a sudden thought hit me - a total panic. Captain Nemo had left his room. He was in the main hall, and I had to cross it to escape. I'd see him there, probably talk to him. A look or a single word from him could ruin me, trap me on board for good.

But ten o'clock was almost here. It was time to leave my room and find my friends.

I couldn't hesitate, even if Captain Nemo was standing right in front of me. I carefully opened my door, and even then, it seemed to creak so loudly. Maybe it was just in my head.

I tiptoed down the dark hallways of the Nautilus, pausing at each step to feel my pounding heart. I reached the door to the main hall and opened it gently. It was pitch black inside. The organ music was faint. Captain Nemo was there. He didn’t see me.

I doubt he would have noticed me even in bright light, he was so lost in the music.

I crept across the carpet, trying not to make a single sound that would give me away. It took me at least five minutes to reach the door on the other side, leading to the library.

I was about to open it when a sigh from Captain Nemo froze me in place. I knew he was getting up. I could even see him, the light from the library spilling into the hall. He came towards me silently, arms crossed, gliding like a ghost, not really walking.

His chest was heaving with sobs, and I heard him whisper these words (the last I ever heard from him): "God, enough! Enough!"

Was it a confession of regret escaping from this man’s conscience?

In desperation, I bolted through the library, raced up the main staircase, and followed the upper steps to the boat. I slipped through the opening, where my two friends were already waiting.

"Let’s go! Let’s go!" I shouted.

"Just a sec," replied the Canadian.

First, they sealed the hole in the Nautilus’s hull, locking it down with a fake key Ned Land had grabbed. Then they closed the opening in the boat. The Canadian started loosening the bolts that still held us to the submarine.

Suddenly, we heard noise - loud voices answering each other. What was happening? Had they figured out we were escaping? I felt Ned Land slip a knife into my hand.

"Yeah," I murmured, "we know how to go out."

The Canadian stopped what he was doing. But one word, repeated over and over, revealed what was causing all the chaos on board the Nautilus. It wasn’t us they were worried about!

The maelstrom! The maelstrom!

"Could any word sound more terrifying in a more terrifying situation? We were right off the dangerous coast of Norway. Was the Nautilus being pulled into this whirlpool just as our boat was trying to escape?"

We knew that during high tide, the water between the Faroe and Lofoten islands rushed together with incredible force, creating a whirlpool that no ship ever escaped.

Huge waves were meeting from every direction, forming a gulf called the "Navel of the Ocean," with a pull that reached out for twelve miles. There, not only ships but whales and even polar bears from the north were swallowed up.

That’s where the Nautilus, whether on purpose or not, had been steered.

It was like a spiral, getting tighter and tighter, and the boat, still tied to the side, was zooming along super fast. I felt that weird, dizzy feeling you get from spinning around for too long.

We were seriously freaked out. Our fear was off the charts - like, everything stopped working, all the nerves were shot, and we were drenched in cold sweat, like a full-on panic attack! And the noise around our little boat? It was insane! Roars echoing for miles!

The sound of the water smashing against the jagged rocks below was deafening - the kind of place that could crush anything, even trees, "stripped bare," as the Norwegians say.

Being stuck in that situation was terrifying. We were rocking like crazy. The Nautilus was fighting it off, like a person defending themselves. Its steel hull was straining. Sometimes it felt like it was standing straight up, and we were with it!

"We gotta hold on," said Ned, "and check the bolts. We might still make it if we stick with the Nautilus."

He didn’t even finish the words when we heard a huge crash, the bolts snapped, and the boat was ripped free, flung out like a rock from a slingshot into the middle of the whirlpool.

My head slammed against a piece of metal, and the impact was so hard, I totally blacked out.