Chapter Text
„Ah,“ Nemo’s voice broke through the silence as a rumbling could be heard in the water.
He stepped forwards to the edge of the pier, Sawyer following behind in curiosity.
“Our transportation is forthcoming.”
“A boat?” Sawyer asked, as the other members of the League also headed for the pier.
In front of them, the water was in constant motion, bubbling or moving in thousands of small waves.
“It travels on water, if that’s what you mean.”
Nemo stood proudly at the edge, looking down at the tremoring waters. Then, a large, dark pole emerged out of the water, followed by a platform, and then, an even larger structure. Gigantic even
“And beneath it.”
The structure had been dark only at the top, now revealing gleaming silver accents and a white body. Smaller windows were lined up at the top and a large, fish-eye window swept past the League as Nemo spoke. The thing had an enormous length and kept climbing in height, headed towards the height of buildings.
“Behold,” Captain Nemo announced, “Nautilus! The sword of the ocean!”
The captain stood proudly at the edge of the dock, the rest of the League behind him, watching in awe. The automobile had already been impressive, but this… this was even beyond that. It was a colossal structure, a structure that had just heaved itself out of the ocean – and they were supposed to travel in this thing? Even the great Allan Quatermain seemed impressed. He had heard of the Nautilus, of course, but this had exceeded his expectations.
“And what do you call this kind of vessel, Captain?” Quatermain asked.
“I call it a ‘submarine’.”
“Apt naming.”
“Step back, please,” Nemo asked the other and motioned them further away from the vessel. “The entrance needs space to open.”
Really, as soon as they had all taken enough steps back, part of the hull opened and a boarding ramp emerged.
“Next stop: Paris,” Nemo announced and gestured his passengers into the Nautilus.
The hallway the League stepped into was comfortably wide, like in the more prestigious parts of a passenger ship. But it was nothing compared to what they were about to see. As per Nemo’s wish, they were first guided to the bridge. As they stepped further upwards and towards their goal, the hallways became wider, until, finally, they reached the main part of the vessel. Here, the walls were white and ornate, doorways wide and swung in shapes that a European would only know from books if at all. They were a further testament to Nemo’s pride in his Indian heritage, like his clothes, like the uniform his crew wore, like the ornaments on the hull of the Nautilus had to be. Finally, they were close to their end of the journey through the ship. In front of them were a dark pillar with a door – clearly the one leading up the platform crowning the ship – and a staircase at either side. Nemo led the way as the others followed. At the top of the stairs, they were at the bridge.
It was a spacious room with a navigator’s table nearest to the staircase, the wall behind it covered in thin tubes. Right in front of the passengers were three steering wheels beneath spacious windows, a larger one in the middle and two smaller ones at either side, flanked by various instruments at the sides of the room. Waiting in front of the steering wheels were two people. One was Ishmael, the first mate, who had clearly brought the gigantic vessel – the lady – to his captain. But judging by who was standing next to him, the term lady gained a different meaning.
Standing next to Ishmael was a young woman with dark skin, large brown eyes, and long black hair. Her face was mesmerizing to look at, appearing almost otherworldly. There was something about her eyes and her smile that made you trust her, want to protect her at all costs, but it also gave you a feeling of safety, of hospitality. But it didn’t end at her face, of course. It was in her clothes, too, a white top showing off her midriff, covered by winding, indigo-colored fabric - a saree, of silk - with a fine pattern of silver that gleamed in the light of the lamps. A thin chain went along where her hair was parted, leading down onto her forehead to a golden ornament, a similar design shared by both her earrings and the stud gracing her left nostril. But the gold and silver didn’t clash, no, it was far from that. They harmonized in a way that should not be possible. Or, to put it into one sentence: She looked regal. As soon as she laid her eyes on the guests entering the bridge, she placed both her palms together under her chin and gave a deep bow.
Skinner whistled in astonishment. “Wow, I think I’ve just found the most beautiful thing on this ship!” he called out and had already started heading for the woman when Nemo grabbed him and held him back.
“Nobody is to touch her,” the Captain immediately declared.
“Sorry,” Skinner quipped back, “didn’t know she was your daughter.”
“That honour isn’t mine to claim.”
“Clearly, Skinner, she’s out of your league,” Gray declared and pulled him back towards the group.
“This, gentlemen,” Nemo said as he gestured towards the woman to come closer, “is Miss Varsha Devi, the jewel of this ship. She may not speak our language, but she understands every word.”
“I always thought women on a ship meant bad luck,” Quatermain regarded with a smirk.
“Not this one. In fact, since Varsha has been on board, the seas have been nothing but kind to me. - Perhaps due to her navigation.”
With these words, Nemo turned to Ishmael, giving the orders to sail off to Paris. After all, they had little time and there was still one more member of the League to recruit – and it wouldn’t be an easy task. Then, Nemo offered to give his fellow members a further tour of the ship. Mrs Harker, however, had other wishes.
“Nemo, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go freshen up instead after our encounter with the Fantom.”
“Of course, Mrs Harker,” Nemo nodded. “Varsha, if you’d be so kind to lead Mrs Harker to her room.”
Varsha gave a nod, then moved around the men to gesture Mina back down the stairs with a bright smile.
“Thank you,” Mina mumbled and pulled her collar a little higher.
The two ladies walked a little before Mina raised her voice, trying to fill the silence – and maybe find out some more about her guide. As soon as she spoke, Varsha’s eyes were on her, showing she was listening intently.
“I’m really glad I’m not the only woman in this endeavor,” Mina said. “You’re usually the only woman on board, aren’t you?”
Varsha nodded gracefully.
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
To this, Varsha shrugged and bobbed her head from side to side, something that Mina interpreted as a ‘more or less’ or ‘sometimes’.
“And you’re the navigator of this ship?”
Another nod, accompanied by a proud gleam in Varsha’s brown eyes.
“Then you know how to read and write.”
She did.
“English too?”
Yes, English too. Delighted, Mina pulled a small notepad and pen out of her pocket, which she handed to Varsha.
“Would you tell me what language you speak?” Mina continued to ask.
Quickly, Varsha wrote her answer on the little notepad. Her handwriting was small, neat, and curved.
“I speak Hindi and Sanskrit,” the letters showed.
“Sanskrit as in the ancient language?”
Varsha put a checkmark beneath her last sentence.
“Incredible.”
They had reached Mina’s room now, as clearly indicated by Varsha opening one of the doors along the hallway. Inside was a comfortable bed, a closet, and a large workspace. Mina’s things had long since been carried there and were waiting there for her. Varsha attempted to give back the notepad and pen, but Mina declined.
“Keep it,” she said, “in case you need to tell Skinner off.”
To this, Varsha gave an amused smile before leaving and closing the doors behind her.