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He sniffed the flowers -- and discovered something strange around a thick stem at the center. She had folded and wrapped a thin scrap of brown paper which matched the color of the twigs. Curious, Nemo unraveled the scrap and found that she had written him a note in tiny letters, painstakingly translated into French. He held his breath as he read, feeling cold horror grow within him.

“Nemo, my love, Robur intends to kill you and your men on this voyage. He no longer has any use for you. He does not realize, though, that it is already too late for him. While he is gone during these seven days, my father’s troops will sweep down from the mountains and overthrow Rurapente. The Sultan has issued an order for Robur’s execution.

“Protect yourself. Stay on your guard and be prepared to fight when the caliph makes his move. My father has promised me safety -- yes, all along I have been his spy at Rurapente, and I have sent regular reports via the shepherds on the plateau, who are my allies.

“I will take Jules into isolation and protect the families of your men -- but you must not return for at least a year. There is sure to be terrible bloodshed and political confusion. Because you have built this war vessel for an enemy of the Sultan, your life may also be forfeit.

“Do not worry about me, my husband. Just find me when the time is up. I shall wait for you, counting the days. I will make sure your son never forgets you, and when you return, you will receive the honor and glory you deserve.”

Nemo reread the letter through a hot haze of betrayal. He had expected treachery from Caliph Robur, and he vowed again that the evil warlord would not succeed in his mad goals. Robur represented the worst of mankind.

Grim and determined, Nemo knew he would have to rally his crew. They must find a way to outwit the caliph’s murderous guards.

When he felt ready to return to the bridge, he looked down and discovered that in his cold fury, he had crushed the delicate flowers in his hands.

viii

Like a metal shark, the Nautilus glided through the Mediterranean. The vessel cruised over ribbony masses of coral and underwater forests of seaweed. Schools of silvery fish flitted through the glare of the dazzling front lights. The captive crew watched for legendary mer-people, marvelous sunken cities, or frightening sea monsters.

Knowing the death sentence Robur had secretly pronounced for them, however, Nemo could see no beauty there.

Seeing that the burly guards were occupied and complacent, Nemo took aside Cyrus Harding, whom he had named as his second-in-command, and quietly told the English boatbuilder of Auda’s warning. Then, speaking a polyglot of French, English, and Italian, word passed among the captive crew. Now vigilant, they began making plans for their defense against Robur’s betrayal. Since the senseless execution of poor Conseil, the men had been eager to strike back against the bloodthirsty warlord. . . .

As they journeyed for days, Nemo stood at the helm, silently aware of Caliph Robur and his murderous guards. He watched the caliph’s narrow face for any sign of impending treachery. Robur seemed to grow more eager, his motions impatient, as he demanded that Nemo show him every control of the undersea boat. He overheard two guards whispering in Turkish, confident their language could not be understood, as they caressed their scimitar hilts and chuckled about “the true uses of steel.”

By the caliph’s command, Nemo guided the Nautilus south, following the coast of Lebanon toward Egypt. Robur grew agitated and then smugly satisfied, when they reached the northern Egyptian coast. Though de Lesseps’s massive excavation of the Suez Canal had already been under way for two years, the French engineer had fallen behind schedule.

Now, the Nautilus cruised up and down the coast, watching the trawlers and dredging ships. Silt from the gargantuan project had turned the water murky. Everyone aboard could see that this supposed threat to the