• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“We all deserve to be happy, Caroline.” Verne regretted hurting her, snuffing her dreams. But his own dreams of a life with her had long ago been vanquished. “It just doesn’t always work out that way.”

v

The Nautilus traveled secretly beneath the waters, circling the oceans of the Earth. All aboard remained isolated from the world . . . and at peace. Following their years-long ordeal, Nemo and his crew reveled in freedom.

Finally, after staying away for as long as Auda had asked, the sub-marine boat passed again through the Straits of Gibraltar. With growing anticipation, Nemo headed east toward the Turkish coast. He felt cold and uneasy about returning to Rurapente, which bore so many violent memories for him. Isolated on the Nautilus, they had learned little about world news, but he’d had enough of war and bloodshed. He hoped the political turmoils had settled down in the Ottoman Empire, as Auda had promised.

He longed to see his wife and son again, and the rest of his crew missed their families as well. On the Nautilus they would take their wives and children and be free to make their lives wherever they wished. They clung to that hope.

In his gruff British accent, Cyrus Harding proposed that they search for Nemo’s mysterious island, which presumably remained uninhabited. There, they could establish a wonderful new colony, a utopia based on principles of cooperation and support. With the extensive engineering and technical knowledge the sophisticated crew possessed, they could build anything they wished. The Swiss Family Robinson would be mere amateurs by comparison.

Nemo set a course through the sparkling blue waters, threading a maze of scattered Greek islands until they reached the isolated cove where they had been imprisoned for so many years.

As they traversed the deep channel to the rocky shore of Rurapente, Nemo kept the Nautilus submerged. Through the round windows they could see dock pilings and other wreckage covered with silt. When he blew ballast to raise the craft and the sea washed clear of the portholes, Nemo and his crew pushed forward, hoping to see cheering, victorious rebels.

Instead, Rurapente had been devastated. The entire industrial compound, its factories and drydocks, its ore smelters and kilns, its village of dwellings -- all had been burned and destroyed. Reduced to charred rubble, nothing more.

The Nautilus rested against the empty docks, and a moan of despair rose from the crew. Nemo said nothing, jaws locked in a grim expression only partially hidden by his dark beard. His intense eyes stared at the devastation. Somewhere in the dead emptiness of his shock, the fires of anger sparked and blazed.

He opened the upper hatch and emerged blinking into the sunlight. The air smelled of greasy smoke. “Come with me,” he said to no one in particular. Every member of his crew felt as desperate and shocked as he did. He didn’t try to provide false assurances or unrealistic hopes. “We must learn what we can.”

After tying up the sub-marine boat, the men stepped carefully across rotting dock planks. When they reached the compound itself, they hesitated, afraid to proceed.

The foundations of buildings stood like blackened stumps of teeth. The smelting refineries had caved in, windows smashed, bricks crumbled. The living quarters had been burned to ash and slag. Everything . . . destroyed.

The oppressive silence was broken only by a faint whistle of wind that trespassed in the cove. Nemo thought he could hear the shouts of raiders, the crackle of flames, the clang of scimitars against makeshift weapons . . . or against soft flesh, hard bone. Screams of pain and pleas for mercy from the desperate slaves, the women, the children -- everyone who had endured life at Rurapente.

Auda had allied herself with her father, Caliph Barbicane; she had known about the impending attack and arranged for her own rescue and the safety of the others. . . . But now it appeared that no one had listened to her. Nemo could only pray that she had escaped. Or had she and young Jules