Captain Nemo_ The Fantastic History of a Dark Genius - Kevin J Anderson [156]
Finally, without a word or sign from Cyrus Harding, the men let out a loud cheer that signified their victory and their freedom at last after so many long years held hostage. Now the Nautilus belonged to them.
Harding went back to the helm and stared out the thick windows, watching for his captain to return.
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Nemo waited until they approached the Nautilus. The running lights from the sub-marine boat shone out, overpowering the shimmering illumination from the sun far above.
He moved his gloved hand in a secret signal to Liedenbrock. Nemo fumbled inside a wide pocket in his underwater suit and withdrew the long knife he had secreted there. He stepped in front of their captor and turned so that his eyes, dark with hatred, could stare through the viewing plate at Robur’s scarred face. He had waited long years for this moment.
When Robur saw the knife, a burst of bubbles evacuated from his air tank as the caliph flailed backwards, clumsily trying to get away. Nemo gracefully slid forward and slashed the air hose behind Robur’s brass helmet. Helpless, the warlord struggled, but to no avail.
Air poured from the severed hose the way blood had sprayed from Conseil’s neck. Nemo watched impassively as the once-powerful caliph fought to breathe . . . but all of his air bled away. Gratified, thinking of the years of oppression he and the other captives had suffered, Nemo watched every moment and felt no sympathy whatsoever. . . .
Liedenbrock struck at the same moment, cutting the guard’s air hose with another knife. As the burly man lumbered about in confusion, the pressurized air propelled him like a jet, knocking him forward and off balance. In desperation, the guard swung his spear, but the metallurgist sidestepped the jagged blade, then plucked the weapon from the guard’s gloved hand as if it were a welcome gift.
Liedenbrock lowered the spear and thrust it into his enemy’s chest, killing him instantly. Nemo regretted that extra bit of violence, because now it would take longer to repair the valuable watertight suit.
When Robur finally ceased his struggles, Nemo looked down to see that the warlord’s helmet had filled with water, and his eyes and mouth were open. The fearsome caliph looked like nothing more than a dead fish. With a heart of stone, Nemo had no regrets for what they had been forced to do. He grasped Robur’s body by the thick sleeve and dragged him to the Nautilus airlock.
Liedenbrock did the same with the guard. The crew would have plenty of time now to repair the underwater suits. When Nemo emerged from the airlock into the sub-marine, dripping and exhausted, he saw that Cyrus Harding had done his part. They had succeeded in capturing the Nautilus.
Nemo lifted the brass helmet from his shoulders as the ecstatic crewmen set up a loud cheer. He was their captain, and these men would follow him around the Earth, if he asked it. They had lived and worked and suffered together for years. They had built an unparalleled sub-marine vessel, they had slain a brutal warlord who wanted to be master of the world -- and now they were free again.
The Nautilus remained submerged while the crew washed the blood off the deck and disposed of the bodies, feeding the caliph and his hated guards to the fishes.
Nemo stood at the helm of his great sub-marine boat and studied his loyal and devoted men. They were now in command of their own destinies. According to Auda’s note, it would not be safe to go back to the Ottoman Empire for some time. Instead, he would take the Nautilus and head out of the Mediterranean.
“Captain . . .” Cyrus Harding said, looking at the other men as if they had elected him to speak for them. “We’ve all been away for six or seven years. The things we’ve done, and the things we’ve seen since then -- well, sir, our homelands are just memories now. They ain’t nobody’s home anymore.”
Liedenbrock stomped his foot on