Young Captain Nemo: The Door into the Deep

by Jason Henderson

  Which was kind of amazing when Gabriel considered what they regularly went through together.

  Peter looked at a printout his mom had fished out of her purse. “I want to bid on the snowboard.”

  “Snowboard?” Peter’s mom scrunched up her eyebrows. “We don’t have mountains.”

  “A guy can dream.”

  Gabriel scanned the room and the various corridors leading away to the exhibits. He saw a sign that read SHARKS off to the left. “I’m gonna go check out the sharks.”

  Peter shrugged like he wanted to go with him, but the snowboard was coming up soon and so he gave him a thumbs-up instead.

  “If your folks show, I want to say hi,” Ms. Kosydar whispered as Gabriel left them.

  In his ear, the coast guard voices rattled on.

  “Sqrrk. We’re out of warning buoys—can we call Santa Barbara and get some…”

  He stopped and touched his ear to listen for a moment. Apparently the coast guard was running out of warning buoys for all the huge containers that had fallen into the water. Not something he could help with.

  Gabriel paid more attention to the voices in his ear than where he was walking and collided with someone. He stepped sideways, headed for the shark exhibit, when a heavy hand on his shoulder whipped him around.

  “Hey!” Larry Fife, an enormous eighth grader whose voice cracked painfully, pushed him back. Gabriel kept his balance.

  “Sorry.” Gabriel backed away.

  “Whatsamatter, ET, the mother ship bothering you again?” Larry put his own hand to his own ear and made his eyes wide. “What’s that? You want me to come home?”

  “I said I was sorry,” Gabriel tried again.

  Larry, not as stupid as he appeared, had noticed Gabriel listening to the receiver several times at school. Gabriel usually tried to be more careful around other people, but with so much activity tonight he had gotten distracted. Gabriel cursed himself and vowed to keep from putting his hand to his ear when he was listening. The gesture was automatic, but it didn’t help him blend in.

  A goateed man nearby wearing a black suit cleared his throat loudly, and Larry slunk back to him. Gabriel took that opportunity to move on as he heard the man saying, “What have I told you? These people aren’t worth it.”

  Nice. Listening to the coast guard drone on in his ear, Gabriel headed into the shark exhibit.

  He found two great white sharks swimming in a relentless figure eight, as if patrolling the water as partners, one sweeping in right before Gabriel’s eyes only to rush away, the second arriving just as the other had left. Two inches of Plexiglas separated the domain of the sharks and the darkened room where Gabriel stood watching them.

  Gabriel heard a scuffling sound behind him and turned to see a line of chairs along the black-painted wall across from the tank. After a moment his eyes adjusted and he saw her: a little girl hiding underneath one of the chairs.

  “Next up, a massage, two hours, offered by…,” Mrs. Holsted said in the next room.

  Gabriel approached the line of chairs and crouched, resting a hand on the front of one leather seat. “What are you doing down here?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “I’m afraid of them.” The girl peered out from under the leather seat, her body pressed back against the wall.

  “Afraid of what?” Gabriel stayed crouched and followed her saucer-wide eyes toward the tank, where one of the sharks circled again. “Oh, them?”

  She nodded.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Molly.”

  “I’m Gabriel. Where are your parents?”

  “They’re in there with my sister.” Molly nodded toward the larger room where the parents and students were gathered. He figured her for about eight.

  “Do I hear seventy-five?” Gabriel heard Mrs. Holsted again. “A massage makes a fine holiday gift, and at seventy-five…”

  “Oh. Well, I could stand guard while you run back, but … you don’t have to be afraid of these guys.” Gabriel stood, walking over to the tank. He put his hand on the glass. “They’re my friends.”

  “They eat people.”

  He smiled. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Taylor Cartwright had a sleepover and we watched Jaws.”

  Ahhh. Gabriel gave her a serious look. “Yeah, I saw that, too. That was pretty scary.” A little too scary for her age, he thought, but then what did he know? His mom hadn’t really approved of scary movies, though he and his sister had been into a lot of mythology stuff, and that could get gruesome.

  “What do you mean they’re your friends?”

  Gabriel stepped back and scanned the tank until he saw a gold plaque that read: DINO AND GRACIE, RESCUED AND TEMPORARILY HOUSED THANKS TO THE SUPPORT OF ANONYMOUS DONORS.

  Anonymous. He thought about the morning he’d had to sneak away from school to untangle Dino and Gracie from a tuna net then hand them off to someone who could see to it that they’d be taken care of. That was a good day, the kind of day that made him forget that he was here alone. Because how could you feel alone when there was a mission to complete? When it was done, Gabriel had swum away and returned to school. It was all …

  Anonymous. No one.

  There was another, older word for no one.

  Nemo.

  Gabriel gestured to Molly to come out. The smaller shark—only by a few inches—swam by. “Well, that one, the smaller one? That’s Dino. There he goes. And this … is Gracie.”

  Molly crawled out from under the bank of chairs and came a few steps closer.

  He continued, “These two sharks are rescues. That means they were injured in the ocean and the aquarium is giving them a place to live until they’re better. And in the meantime you get to see them.”

  “But in Jaws…” Molly had stepped out to stand next to Gabriel.

  “Do you eat fish?”

  “Sure.”

  “That’s what sharks eat. Mostly. Fish. Dolphins. They’re not much interested in people.” That wasn’t entirely true, not if people got unlucky or stupid, but generally sharks were more interested in things that didn’t intimidate them, and a human could be pretty intimidating.

  Molly stared at him. “But they could, you mean. You’re not sure.”

  She had him there. “Nothing’s ever sure.” Gabriel sighed. “I wouldn’t want to lie to you.”

  “Molly!” A high voice called from the entrance to the shark exhibit. Gabriel turned to see Misty Jensen hurrying toward them, relief showing across her face.

  He smiled wide. He had basically one other friend besides Peter, and that was Misty. “This is your sister?”

  “We had no idea where you were!” Misty looked stern for a second and then melted as she hugged Molly. Then she addressed Gabriel, and her expression hardened ever so slightly again. “You couldn’t bring her back where everyone else is?” She pushed back the bushy brown curls that insisted on falling over her face even when she tied them all back.

  Gabriel spread his hands. “Well, she was asking about sharks.”

  Misty winced. “She’s afraid of sharks, Gabe.”

  “Gabriel says sometimes they eat people. Like in Jaws!”

  Misty’s wince turned into a glare. “Did you tell her that sharks eat people?”

  “No … maybe?” Gabriel blinked. “I was just standing here.”

  “There you are!” A woman spoke, and now two adults that Gabriel took to be Misty and Molly’s parents came in. Both were dressed smartly in casual slacks and short-sleeved shirts that showed off what Gabriel had to admit were some pretty impressive physiques. He had only heard about them before. He had spent countless hours with Misty, but she had somehow maneuvered things so that he had never actually met her parents.

  But oh, she worshipped them. Misty had told him that her parents were both retired from the air force. She said they lived with purpose, getting up at five in the morning to run and working out every afternoon. Truthfully, except for her longer hair, Misty was a dead ringer f
or her mom, down to the tan slacks.

  “I was hiding from the sharks,” Molly told her mom.

  “Yeah.” Misty jerked her thumb at Gabriel. “And then Bill Nye here started lecturing to her about how they eat people, apparently.”

  “She asked me…” Gabriel turned to her parents. “I’m Gabriel. And really, I don’t lecture.”

  “He lectures all the time.”

  Gabriel turned to his friend. “No, no, see, this is a cool thing. It’s really important to answer people when they ask questions, because that’s when the brain is most engaged. All the neurons start lighting up. It’s amazing! Actual physical changes occur, just because of a question.”

  She waved her arm. “See?”

  Misty’s parents extended their hands one at a time, and Gabriel shook them awkwardly. All these rituals. They’d rarely had visitors at home before his folks had sent him here. He always felt like he was pretending to know how to act. He was sure his hands were clammy.

  Misty’s mom looked him up and down. “We’ve heard of you. You’re in the…”

  “Marine research club?” Mr. Jensen tried to remember. “You do a lot of group excursions, right?”

  Misty shot Gabriel a look that told him to go with it, and Gabriel obeyed. “Yep.”

  “Are your parents here?” Ms. Jensen asked. “We’d love to meet them.”

  “They’re around somewhere.” Which was true if you figured somewhere wasn’t necessarily close by and included the bottom of the ocean.

  The receiver in his ear burst to life with a woman’s voice: “Mayday! Mayday! Pleasure vessel Dandelion requesting assistance. We have had a fire and are taking on water, requesting assistance at—” followed by a stream of numbers that were the coordinates for the woman’s location.

  Gabriel froze. Misty’s mom was saying something, but he wasn’t hearing it. He stared into space as he listened for a response.

  Come on, guys, he thought. Answer.

  “Excuse me.” Gabriel took out his phone and started a note to himself. “I have to…” He stopped talking and typed the coordinates before he forgot them. Gabriel glanced up at Misty and her parents. “I was supposed to text … them. My parents. They may have gone to the wrong place.” He babbled nonsense as he backed out of the exhibit. “I just realized. Uh, thanks.”

  As he hurried into the main room, he realized he never ended the conversation with the usual “nice to meet you.” Whoops.

  In the main room he tried his best to stick to the wall as he listened intently again.

  “Come on, guys,” he whispered.

  The coast guard did not answer. Gabriel waited for the Mayday to come again.

  Instead another voice came back: “Sqrrk. Can someone tell Santa Barbara we know they have at least thirty buoys? I mean, I’ll get in a pickup and go get three of them right now.”

  This was followed by a lot of cross-traffic and laughing. It was as if the other call, the distress call, had never gone through.

  Gabriel stared at the crowd and kept listening as the reality sank in. Incredible. The droning about the mess with the container vessel went on, and no one mentioned or responded to the call for help. The Mayday did not come again, and it was as if it had never happened.

  There was a distress call, and the coast guard had missed it. No one knew that somewhere out there, someone was in trouble.

  Except him. Gabriel Nemo had heard it.

  When Gabriel was nine years old, his mother had taught him about cascading events, how tiny decisions and accidents can lead to large results, even catastrophes. Somewhere out there, at the spot described by the numbers Gabriel had just tapped out, a ship was in an emergency.

  He had gotten his wish. Something terrible had happened.

  Gabriel opened a new text on his phone and tapped a message to a group called CREW. He heard it whoosh away as he scanned the room for Peter.

  Peter was standing with his mom right where Gabriel had left them, and Gabriel did his best to look only mildly excited as he tapped Peter on the shoulder.

  “Hang on, the snowboard is next.” Peter waved him off. Just then Peter’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. Knowing it was the same text he had sent to Misty, Gabriel peered over Peter’s shoulder to see the one-word message flash as a notification: OBSCURE.

  Peter looked back furtively. “Are you sure—now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Isn’t there anybody…”

  “There isn’t. I’ll fill you in once we get out of here.”

  “But I’ve got my mom. And what about Misty?”

  “She’s surrounded.” Gabriel put on what he sincerely hoped was his best smile. “Ms. Kosydar? I’m totally sorry, but my dad just texted me to remind me that he’s preparing this amazing, uh, kelp … dish.” This wasn’t far from likely. The Nemos were all about kelp. “Anyway, I have to go, but Peter is invited.” He pointed at Peter as though she might not be sure who that was. “Dad, uh, said we could watch some movies and, you know, stay up late.” He laid it on thick, knowing the clock was ticking.

  They both waited expectantly.

  “Well, I guess we don’t both have to be here,” she said.

  “Great!” Having been given an out, Peter seemed determined not to wait around. He urged Gabriel on and they started running.

  “But how will you get there?” she asked.

  “We’ll order a car!” Gabriel shouted, waving his phone. He brought up the app as they ran.

  “Be very polite!” Ms. Kosydar called, but by that time they were out the door.

  “How did you get here earlier?” Peter asked as they ran down the front steps to the curb.

  “My bike, but it’ll be fine.” This was true. Anyone tampering with a Nemotech lock was going to get a zap a lot like that of Peter’s imaginary jellyfish.

  For a moment they stood at the edge of Ocean Highway, which was still thick with traffic at 7 P.M. Gabriel’s address, a tiny wooden house on the cliffs of Santa Marta, was just a few miles up the highway.

  “How long till your mom gets suspicious, do you think?” Gabriel asked.

  “Could be a while.”

  Their driver was just pulling up as they heard another voice from behind them.

  “You two could’ve waited for me,” came the voice of Misty Jensen. Peter opened the car door and Misty slid in.

  Peter laughed. “You got away! Gabe said you were surrounded.”

  She smirked. “What? You didn’t think I was gonna miss this.”

  2

  ON OCEAN HIGHWAY in Santa Marta, California, Gabriel’s little wooden house lay silent as he, Peter, and Misty burst from the car at the curb and ran up the path. The dilapidated gate and door swung open as each sensed Gabriel drawing near.

  Once safely inside, they kept moving but finally discussed what they had dared not let their driver overhear.

  “Why isn’t the coast guard taking this?” Peter asked. The house was so narrow that they could see out one window to the street and out the other straight over the cliff behind Gabriel’s house to the Pacific Ocean, as calm as its name.

  “They missed it, I guess.” Gabriel and his friends moved into the living room. “There’s an accident with a container vessel a few miles offshore. The radio has been crazy all afternoon.”

  “How long ago did you hear this distress call?” Misty asked as she reached the ratty old recliner in the living room, shoved it aside, and stepped on a tile in the floor.

  “It came through while we were talking with your parents, so … ten minutes at least.” A trapdoor opened, and the three peered down to see lapping black water and a dark, round hatch, whose rivets shone in the dim light with mother-of-pearl inlays, sticking up above the waves eighty feet below.

  Gabriel’s house rested on a sturdy latticework frame crafted out of a polymer that Gabriel’s family had been perfecting since before his father was born. The frame allowed the house itself to hang out over the rocky cliff. The beach at
the bottom had been dug out when this house—really just a facade with a kitchen and some furniture—was built. A metal ladder extended all the way down, interrupted occasionally by platforms and walkways to allow passage to a variety of equipment and data-collection tools. The whole structure glowed with its own light, a phosphorous blue-green paint devised by Gabriel’s ancestors, and was hidden on the other side by an artificial cliff. From the water, an observer would see only weeds where the house ended and rock all the way down.

  With his crew close behind, Gabriel put his feet on either side of the ladder and slid down, away from a home that was barely a home at all and toward a better one.

  * * *

  Stepping onto the command bridge of the hidden submarine, Gabriel tapped the coordinates of the distress call into a touchpad embedded in a polished-coral panel and looked up at the enormous view screen currently showing a map of the Pacific coastline. Noting the blinking green spot, he turned his attention back to the pad, going through the prelaunch checklist.

  “Still no more Maydays?” Misty called out as she bounded down the ladder and disappeared into a small changing room Gabriel had designed and installed for her when she joined the crew.

  “Nothing since the first one.” Gabriel touched a button. Electrical cells at maximum. No surprise there. They hadn’t taken the Obscure out in two weeks, and he’d been careful to recharge the seaweed-conversion alternators before they docked.

  Peter moved quickly to his own panel and put an earpiece in as he glanced up at the large map. “That’s only about forty miles out. Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “It’s what we do, Peter. We’ll handle it. It’s up to us.”

  “But you could be seen.”

  “We’ll … handle it.” Gabriel waved his hand.

  Peter reached under the panel and grabbed a green wet suit, then hurriedly tore off his shirt and pants. “Heads up!” Peter shouted. “Changing.”

  “Okay,” Misty called. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “You check the engines?”

  “Yes.” Gabriel pulled on his own wet suit and nodded at Peter. “I have a protective suit for you, too. You never know what might get scratched up.”