The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

THIRTY FIVE The Nautilus

The wounded Nautilus rose under a dawn sky, breaking the surface of the choppy ocean with a clumsy gasp and a groan. Air hissed out, water sprayed, and the scarred and damaged submarine vessel sprawled on the sea as if exhausted. The slow chug of propellers moved the ship drunkenly forward, and the engines coughed.

Crewmen vented the vessels foul interior to release smoke and stagnant atmosphere, pumping in fresh air. They flung open the upper hatch as the engines and pumps continued to labor. Haunted-looking men pressed their heads out into the open breezes, amazed that they had lived to see the surface again.

In dire need of repairs, the wallowing Nautilus creaked and moaned on the high seas. And Nemo and his men were the only people on Earth with the knowledge and skills to fix the exotic vessel.

Taking shifts inside, the surviving crewmen moved about in a daze, replacing broken fittings, resetting furnishings, and mopping up the last standing pools of sea water that had flooded the corridors.

Quatermain, Sawyer, Nemo, and Mina met in Nemo's stateroom to discuss the larger implications of his schemes, and to make plans of their own. With the exception of the ever-optimistic young American, all of them wore an air of defeat. Seeking an outlet for his anger and helplessness, Quatermain took the damaged gramophone disc from the player, and made a point of grinding it under his heel.

Looking shell-shocked, a restored Dr. Jekyll was the last to arrive. After his exertions, the elixir had worn off, leaving him in his frail and fidgety body. But he had served his purpose well. Quatermain nodded to the doctor in silent acknowledgment of his valor.

Jekyll shrank away, embarrassed. "Well… let's not make a saint out of a sinner. Next time, Hyde may not choose to be so helpful." Avoiding further discussion, he turned his attention to the damaged undersea map. The indicators of both the fleeing nautiloid and the larger vessel had fallen off, lost somewhere in the jumble of debris on the floor. "Can — can we still follow Gray?"

Mina made a disbelieving sound as she sat in Nemos desk chair. "Even if the tracer could still get a signal from the nautiloid, we barely have enough engine power to keep us moving."

"We were faster," Quatermain said. "Now we're a tortoise to his hare."

"Not even a tortoise. We are practically dead in the water," Nemo said.

"So we're… just done?" Jekyll said. "We give up?"

Sawyer took the challenge. "No, we're alive. If M has ideas to the contrary, that gives us an edge. He shouldn't be making assumptions." He grinned, trying to rally them. "After all, we're the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, aren't we? That stands for something."

Captain Nemo, though, was not impressed. "The sea is vast, young man. Even if the ship could move, Gray— and M — could be out there anywhere."

"Well, I'm an optimist. Maybe that's a crime to you twisted so-and-sos, but being the way I am keeps me from going crazy." Sawyer looked at Allan Quatermain, expecting to find support there… but he received none. "We'll figure out something."

"Your cheerfulness is out of place, Mr. Sawyer," Mina said.

"You're wrong. We will get our man — at least I will. Tom Sawyer of the American Secret Service." A shadow crossed his expression. "You all aren't the only ones with a grudge, you know. Remember when we first met, the other agent I told you about? The one who was first assigned to investigate the Fantom? Well, he was my childhood friend. He and I were agents together, until that masked madman shot him dead." He wrestled with his emotions, trying not to get choked up. His freckled face flushed red. "The rest of you may be done, but I'm not. I swear I'm going to avenge Huck Finn's death."

"But this isn't about any one of us, Tom. Certainly not anymore," Jekyll said. "It's bigger than that."

"Yes, it is, Mister. The fate of the world is in our hands. The world!" Sawyer looked at all the others, wanting to shake them out of their gloom. "Okay, so Dorian Gray was a traitor. And M tricked you into joining him, and you walked straight into his trap." Sawyer showed them a determined grin. "But the way I see it, that was his big mistake… he brought you—us—together."

The League members looked at each other, considering.

"He… he has a point," Jekyll said.

Quatermain cocked a brow at Sawyer, then finally responded with a wan grin of his own. "And the boy becomes a man. Perhaps a leader of men."

"And women." Mina stood again and smoothed her skirts down. "So now what do we do?"

First Mate Patel suddenly burst in. "Captain! We're getting a signal! I think it's from the nautiloid."

"M gloating, no doubt," Nemo said. "He'll want to know if we survived."

Patel shook his head. "I don't believe it's from the Fantom, sir — and not Mr. Gray either."

Spurred to action, the remaining members of the League rushed to the Nautilus's radio room. A communications operator adjusted his headphones as he jotted down a message on processed kelp paper, one painstaking letter at a time. The radio apparatus emitted beeps and clicks.

Quatermain recognized the chatter he had heard at numerous African outpost telegraph stations. "Morse code."

"What's it say?" Mina asked.

The radio operator read all the words he had so far transcribed. "It says, 'Hello my freaky darlings'."

Sawyer and Mina said in unison, "Skinner."

"So the invisible man has joined M's treachery after all," Nemo said.

That didn't make sense to Quatermain, though. He scratched his head. "Maybe… or maybe not."

The communications operator continued reading off the Morse code message. "Hiding on board little fish with Gray and M. On way to base. East by North East. Follow my lead."

"He stowed aboard!" Sawyer said.

Quatermain clapped the young man on the shoulder. "Our ace in the hole. You were right not to give up hope, lad." The American agent beamed.

"You heard him, Mr. Patel," Nemo said. "Fix our heading at East by North East. All repair crews get to work on our engines, highest priority. I want this vessel moving with every ounce of speed the engines can manage, as soon as possible. Once we begin the chase again, we will make the other repairs while we're under way." The new first mate rushed off to follow his orders.

As the Nautilus floated on the surface of troubled seas, the re-energized crew worked to repair holes in the hull, reattach armor plates, and shore up structural braces from the inside decks. But the damaged engines were the highest priority and underwent an urgent overhaul. Wrecked components were replaced with spares, pistons and shafts were ground and refitted, oil reservoirs refilled, and fresh lubricants applied.

On the bridge, Nemo worked alongside the men to rewire circuits and connect pipes and conduits. Because the entire submarine vessel was of his own design, the detailed plans remained in his memory. First Mate Patel tested the patched controls while plotting coordinates.

Mina and Jekyll tended to the severely wounded crewmen, saving many of them, though several of Nemo's longtime comrades had died. The dead heroes were buried at sea in a solemn ceremony the following foggy morning at dawn. Nemo allowed the desperate work to pause for only a few moments before sending the crewmen back to their tasks.

Inside the sooty and stained engine room, Tom Sawyer lent exuberance, if no particular expertise, to tightening pipes and fixing gauges, wiping away excess lumps of fresh sealant, and polishing the equipment to bring it back to a semblance of the way things had been.

Still, with every instant the nautiloid drew farther and farther away.

When all the members of the League had gathered in the control room, along with First Mate Patel and other Nautilus crewmen, Quatermain addressed the group. "Good work. All of you. Captain?"

Standing on the bridge, Nemo activated the controls. The tense and exhausted engineers and mechanics looked at the captain and at Patel. Then, with a throb and a hiss, the engines engaged, pumping with an ever-increasing roar until they reached full power.

Finally, the vessel began to move, straining with the effort. The Nautilus crossed many leagues, picking up speed as each additional repair was completed. The open seas posed no hindrance to the Sword of the Ocean. Her jagged bow sliced through the waters like a shark in pursuit of prey.

The map of the ocean inside Nemo's stateroom was partially repaired. Relief plates of the sea floor and longitude lines shifted to the left as the Nautilus traveled further east.