by Laura Martin
“We have to tell Captain Reese,” I finished.
“You let me take care of that,” he said, turning to Kate. “Do you remember the protocol for a hostile takeover?” Kate nodded. “Good,” Hector said. “Follow it. Go tell the boys, and stay out of sight. Do you hear?” Before we could answer, he’d gathered the hose he’d been carrying and rushed down the hall. Kate and I watched him go, too shocked to do much else.
“Did I just hear you guys tell Hector that we’d been boarded?” Garth said as he sloshed down the hall.
“I heard hostile takeover,” Max said.
“Shhhhhhh,” Kate and I both hissed as the boy’s voices echoed down the hall.
Max immediately dropped his voice. “But that’s impossible. We’ve never been boarded before.”
“It’s not only possible; it’s happening,” Kate whispered back with a nervous glance over her shoulder. “Hector went to warn the captain.” She looked like she was about to say something else, but then she stopped and really looked at the two boys. “Wait a second, why aren’t you two still pumping?”
“Hector took the hose,” Garth said. “He said we’d done all we could do in there, and he was going to track down the engineers.”
“Oh,” Kate said, and then shook her head sharply and refocused on Max. “Hector said it was time for the protocol.”
“What protocol?” I asked, although secretly the thought of having a protocol was incredibly reassuring. Even if it was a protocol for pirates.
A loud thump came from the hallway behind us, and Kate put a finger to her lips and shook her head.
“No time,” she whispered. “We have to go to ground. Hide.”
“Where in the world do you hide aboard a submarine?” Garth said, his low voice still somehow coming off as a yell. I had to nod in agreement. The Britannica was large by submarine standards—huge, even—but every nook and cranny of the place was being utilized. There was a low woof behind us, and we turned as Tank came trotting down the hall, the water sloshing up around his chest. I reached down and scooped up the sopping-wet dog. I didn’t know much about pirates, but I doubted they had a soft spot for chubby dogs. As I picked him up, I heard a faint jangle in my pocket, and I remembered Mr. Weaver’s keys. I turned back to the group, Tank tucked firmly under my arm.
“I know where we can go,” I said. “Follow me.” Together we slipped down the hallway. It was time to go into hiding.
14
“So now what?” Garth said, shifting uncomfortably in the cramped space behind the classroom aquariums.
“Now we wait,” Max whispered. I’d led everyone quickly and quietly down the halls of the Britannica and into Weaver’s abandoned classroom, where I’d unlocked the two small metal knobs along the wall and swung three of the tanks forward. Garth had stared at this process in openmouthed amazement, and I didn’t blame him. I’d been in this classroom countless times, and I’d never noticed the small hairline seam in the wall that indicated there was a hidden door—until the day Weaver had unlocked the thing to show me the proper way to clean the tanks.
“So tell me more about the protocol,” I said as soon as the door was bolted behind us.
“I’m surprised Weaver never reviewed it with you,” Kate said. “Basically, we are supposed to go to ground, like I said. Hide and try not to let the pirates spot us. Captain Reese won’t give them a list of who’s on board, and most submarines don’t have any kids, so they won’t expect us.”
“But why did they board us?” Garth asked. “What are they hoping to get?”
“Anything and everything,” Max said grimly. “The Britannica has cutting-edge technology that makes every other submarine out there look old and outdated. They’ll do one of two things. Strip the Britannica of everything they can use, or”—he glanced nervously at Kate—“abandon their submarine and take ours, keeping just enough crew alive to run it.”
“I don’t like either of those options,” Garth said.
“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Kate said. We stood in the dark, taking that in for a minute, as we stared out from behind the tanks into the classroom beyond. Finally, Garth broke the silence with an elbow to my ribs.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me the backs of the tanks were two-way mirrors?” he hissed in my ear. “Do you know how many times I picked my nose in here when I thought I was alone? Mr. Weaver was probably watching me the entire time!”
“Shhhhh,” Max hissed, holding up a finger. “Someone’s coming. They may not be able to see us, but these tanks aren’t soundproof.” Garth snapped his mouth shut and we stood frozen as the sound of footsteps got closer. A moment later the door to the classroom slammed open, and we all stiffened as two men and a woman stalked in. All three of them were dressed in tattered, worn clothes liberally spotted with stains. The men were both bearded and hunched, with a lean, hungry look to them that made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. The woman’s hair was black and matted into straggly chunks that hung almost down to her waist. All of them were armed to the teeth with an odd assortment of knives, swords, and spears.
“Nobody in here,” growled the first man, spitting something red onto the lab table.
“What kind of freak show were these people running?” the woman said, spinning slowly to take in the tanks. “What is that thing?” she said, thrusting a finger at the exact tank we were all crouched behind, and I flinched back even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “Looks like a big glob of snot,” she said, her beady brown eyes peering closer. I held my breath and glanced down at Tank, who was sitting at my feet, his teeth bared in a silent snarl, and said a prayer that he wouldn’t decide to bark and give us away.
“Think we can eat it?” asked the other man.
“You must really be hungry to eat that thing,” said the first man.
“I’m not just hungry—I’m starving. This place better have some edible grub.”
“Did you see the size of the crew?” said the women. “This sub is funded by somebody with deep pockets. I bet they have rations coming out of their ears.”
“What do we do with these things, then?” asked one of the men as he ran a long, jagged knife down the front of one of the tanks. I clapped my hand over my ears to keep out the painful squeal of metal on glass as the women chuckled.
“Whatever we want,” she said. “This is your new home, boys. We better make it comfortable.”
“As long as this one doesn’t have rats on it,” said the first man. “I hate rats. The ones on board the Piranha are so gutsy they don’t even have the decency to wait till you’re asleep to nibble on ya.” With that they slammed back out of the room, and we listened as their footsteps retreated down the hall.
“This is bad,” Garth said.
“Ya think?” Max snapped.
“Stop it,” Kate said. “Bickering isn’t helping. We need a plan.”
“Do you think we’ve lost control of the sub?” I said.
Kate shook her head. “It doesn’t look good. Even if Hector managed to get to the hub to warn the captain and the rest of the crew, it’s not like anyone walks around armed.”
“Maybe they should,” Garth said.
“Don’t be dumb,” Max said. “The only threats we ever face are outside the submarine. What good would it do to carry weapons inside? Can you imagine the damage a harpoon gun could do in here?”
“Especially in your hands,” Kate said, and Max paused mid-rant to glare at her.
“It’s useless to debate something we can’t change now,” I said. “Hector told us to stay out of sight and to follow the protocol, so that’s exactly what we’re going to do. We say hidden and assess the situation, help if we can, escape if we can’t.”
“Escape where?” Garth said. “We’re at the bottom of the ocean, in what we all know full well to be sea-monster-infested waters, with no clue how far away the nearest boat might be.”
“I’d never bail and leave the rest of the crew in the hands of pir
ates,” Max said.
Garth made a face at Max. “I was being hypothetical.”
Max nodded. “If the pirates have gained control of the Britannica, the first thing they’re going to do is go over this place with a fine-tooth comb, trying to find all of the crew. Chances are they’re armed to the gills. If we give it some time, they may relax a bit, and we’ll be able to get the jump on them.” We all looked to Kate to see what she’d say, but she just shrugged.
“So it sounds like the odds are that the only people who aren’t captured right now are standing in this room,” I summarized, more for my own spinning head than for their benefit. “That means it’s up to us to figure a way out of this mess. Now, I don’t know much about a submarine getting taken over by pirates, but I do know that the first thing you do when you’re trying to solve a problem is figure out what your resources are.”
“This is a bit different from laying out a bunch of junk before putting together some harebrained invention,” Garth said.
“Is it?” I challenged. “It feels awfully similar. Now, what does everyone have on them?” One by one we turned out our pockets, revealing a hodgepodge of stuff. Max had three kelp bars, which we promptly divided up, since it had been a long time since breakfast. I had Weaver’s key, Kate had nothing but some lint, and Garth had a tablet.
“Garth wins,” Max said, snatching the tablet out of his hand. “We might be able to communicate with some of the crew with this.”
“How do you figure?” I said.
“Did those pirates look intelligent enough to steer something like the Britannica?” Max said, eyebrow raised.
“They didn’t look like they could steer themselves out of a bucket,” Garth said.
“Don’t underestimate them,” Kate warned. “They did manage to take over the Britannica, and as far as I know, that’s never happened before.”
“Good point,” Max said, “But I’d still bet just about anything that they can’t work our technology, which means we might be able to get a message out to Captain Reese or Wilson. What we need to do is find a way to turn the tables and get the Britannica back in our control, and getting in touch with them would be a good start. I’ll check and see if Captain Reese managed to get a distress call out. Maybe there is another sub nearby that could help us.”
As he began tapping away at the tablet. I slumped down to the floor next to Tank and ran a hand over his head.
Max looked up a moment later and shook his head. “I’ve managed to access the captain’s account. No distress signal went out.” I was about to ask how in the world he’d managed to get into the captain’s account that fast when the tablet suddenly beeped and we all jumped.
“Seriously?” Kate said. “You didn’t think to put it on silent?” Max just glared at her and hit a button on the side of the tablet before looking back down at the screen. His forehead bunched in concentration as he read whatever new information had just popped up. Kate leaned over his shoulder to read as well and let out a low whistle.
“What?” Garth said. “Don’t do that—just spit it out.”
“Well,” Kate finally said, “you know how it kind of seems like this particular situation couldn’t get much worse?”
“It couldn’t get any worse,” Garth said.
“It could,” I said. “We could get swallowed.”
“Did we get swallowed?” Garth said.
“No,” Max said. “So, I guess that’s kind of good news. However, the Britannica just got a pretty serious distress call from a nearby ship that’s being chased by a sea monster.”
I nodded and wondered if the crew on board knew they were being attacked, or if their captain was like Captain Brown on the Atlas and had kept them in the dark until it was too late. Ships needed a way to defend themselves, I thought for what felt like the thousandth time since learning the truth about the sea-monster situation. A distress call that went out after an attack had already begun wasn’t nearly enough.
“Tell them that we’re really sorry about their luck,” Garth said, interrupting my thoughts, “but we have enough problems at the moment. We can’t even help ourselves, let alone anyone else.”
“The ship is the Atlas,” Max said.
For a second I didn’t think I’d heard him right, but from the way all the blood drained out of Garth’s face, I knew it was true. I launched myself off the floor to look over Max’s shoulder and saw the very same map I’d spotted that time in Captain Reese’s office. There was the tiny blinking Atlas, and right behind it was a tiny hydra.
“Everything I just said, I take it back,” Garth said. “We have to help. We have to do something. How far away are they?”
“Fifteen miles south,” Max said, consulting the tablet.
“How fast could we make it there?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off the tiny blinking ship.
Max shrugged. “Under normal conditions? Fast. But we don’t have control of the sub. Plus we have no idea how much damage we sustained in the attack.”
“Well, we aren’t neck-deep in water,” Kate said. “So the engineers must have been able to bandage it up.”
I felt a surge of anger and frustration at Kate and Max as they calmly discussed the fate of what had been my entire world for essentially my entire life. My family was on that ship, and they’d never seemed more fragile or horribly out of reach than they did in that moment. “We have to do something,” I said, my voice tight.
“Understatement of a lifetime,” Garth said simply, his hands pressed tightly together in front of his face like he was praying.
“I agree,” Max said. “But we can’t do anything to help your ship until we help the Britannica. I know you’re worried, but your ship has been able to keep ahead of the hydra so far, so, who knows, they may be able to hold out a while longer. They got away from it the last time.”
“The last time, we were there,” I snapped. Max’s eyes narrowed, and he sat back down with a huff of frustration. Garth sank down to sit next to Max, looking defeated, but I hesitated, glancing back through the tanks at Weaver’s empty classroom.
“What?” Kate whispered. “Do you hear someone coming?”
I shook my head as I took in the sea creatures anxiously circling in their tanks. For a second I thought that they could somehow sense the wrongness of the situation, but then I realized they were just hungry. I glanced over at the small clock on the wall behind me and saw that it was way past the time the animals usually had breakfast. With a huff I turned away from the group on the floor.
“Where are you going?” Kate said.
“To do my job,” I answered stiffly. I needed to think, and the habit of routine was calling me like a siren. The small walkway behind the tanks extended along the perimeter of the room, and I edged my way around, stepping over the random buckets and pieces of equipment that Weaver kept stored back here. On the far side I found the three narrow tanks that Weaver stocked with the baitfish and other sea life that he used to feed the creatures that made their home in his classroom. The minnows flashed with a silver shimmer in the water, and I grabbed a net and scooped some of them into a bucket. Someone reached out to take the bucket from my hand, and I jumped before noticing that it was only Garth.
“Let me help,” he said quietly. “It’s better than sitting and doing nothing.”
“I can’t stand it,” I whispered. “The Atlas is in trouble and we’re supposed to just sit around and wait to see how things play out? No thanks.”
“I know,” he said. “But we’re kind of stuck. Kate and Max said it was protocol or whatever.”
“I don’t care about protocol,” I hissed. “I care about protecting our families. What was the point of spending all these weeks learning about sea monsters if we can’t do anything when one attacks our ship?”
“We couldn’t have known the Atlas would get attacked again,” Garth said.
“I knew,” I said. It was time to come clean. Garth blinked at me in surprise and then set down the bucket and
crossed his arms across his chest.
“Explain,” he said, so I did. Out of my mouth came a flood of words, starting with the description of the hydra I’d found in the sea-monster encyclopedia our first morning aboard.
He listened and then turned away from me to stare unseeingly at the tank in front of him. “You could have told me, you know,” he said. “I’m not some fragile seashell that can’t handle things.”
“I know,” I said, feeling guilty. “And I should have. I just wasn’t sure how to process it myself, and I didn’t want to worry you. You seemed to be having a hard enough time adjusting to life on the Britannica.”
“That’s because I hate it down here,” Garth spit. “I miss the sun, I hate getting dunked by that stupid octopus, and diving without salvaging feels pointless. Besides that, I’ve almost been eaten I don’t know how many times, and weirdos like Weaver care more about their precious monsters than they care about us half the time. Do you know there are days where I’ve seriously considered asking Captain Reese to just drop me off at the nearest work ship?”
“You can’t mean that,” I said, reeling from Garth’s confession. I’d known he wasn’t particularly happy aboard the Britannica, but I thought things had gotten better after we’d switched jobs. Although, honestly, I’d also kind of stopped paying much attention. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“For what?” he said. “It’s not your fault I hate it here.”
“It’s my fault you’re here in the first place,” I said. “Just like it’s my fault that the hydra is after the Atlas. If I hadn’t dropped one of my dumb inventions on that monster’s head, none of this would have happened. We’d still be living on the Atlas, working as scavengers.”
“Maybe,” Garth said. “Or maybe we’d be dead.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again as I scooped the tiny silver minnows into the bucket Garth was holding. He opened his mouth to protest, and I held up a finger before he could talk. “I’m sorry for not noticing how miserable you were,” I said.
“It’s fine,” Garth said. “I was working really hard to hide it from you. I didn’t want to make us both miserable.” With that we made the rounds to each of the tanks. The creatures inside thrashed happily as they devoured their meals. I found myself smiling despite the situation, and I realized that, like Weaver, I’d actually gotten a little attached.