Captain Nemo_ The Fantastic History of a Dark Genius - Kevin J Anderson [185]
He opened the battered book and showed Nemo the colorful stamps from customs officers, inscriptions by local officials, postmarks and clippings from newspapers. “This is how I intend to prove that I did indeed complete my journey, that I traveled around the world in eighty days.”
Fogg turned to blank pages. The date ended with the sinking of the American warship. “If I must keep the existence of your Nautilus a secret, how am I to document my travel across the Atlantic? The sinking of the Invincible will be a matter of public record. How shall I explain my travels?” He scratched his head. “I doubt I can convince the members of the Club that I managed to swim the remainder of the distance. . . .”
Nemo pondered for a moment, continuing to look off into the mist. The shadows of chalk cliffs pressed closer. “You will have to concoct a story, Mr. Fogg. You must think of some way to explain your travels -- and I suggest you find an alternative other than swimming. I will hold you to your promise, Monsieur.”
Phileas Fogg’s long fingers clutched the logbook in a tight grip. “But everything in here is true and documented, sir.” His voice now took on a tone of indignation. “How can I falsify such an important part of my trip? That would be . . . most dishonest.”
Nemo refused to back down. “Monsieur Fogg, one thing I have learned in my life is that what is written down and published is not necessarily the truth -- even if it is purported to be so.” He brought to mind how his adventures had been recounted in the novels of Jules Verne, how the events had been altered for the sake of the story.
“At its core, you will not be lying. You will have done as you proposed, according to the terms of your wager. You traveled around the world in eighty days. No one can argue that fact. The rest of the story is just . . . details.”
“But details are like schedules. Too many people ignore them.” Staring into the cold, moist air, Fogg remained stoic for a long moment until he broke into a broad grin, the first overt emotion Nemo had seen from the scarecrowish man. “Well . . . it will, after all, be only one more falsehood.” Fogg turned to the dark-haired captain. “I’ve just realized that of all people in the world, you are the one person in whom I can confide. I can tell you my secret, Captain Nemo, because you have no means and no motivation to reveal it to the authorities.”
“I have no respect for authorities,” Nemo agreed bitterly.
Fogg continued. “As you might guess, sir, arranging such a trip around the globe involved more than careful scheduling. It required substantial monetary resources as well. While I had a comfortable enough life in London, I was by no means a rich man, not the sort of person who had the funds to engage in such a lengthy and expensive trip. So I was forced to acquire the financing by . . . unorthodox means.”
Phileas Fogg fell silent for a moment, and Nemo looked at him as the Nautilus cruised onward. “You stole it?”
Fogg met his dark gaze. “I robbed a bank.”
Nemo stared at the tall Englishman in astonishment.
“Oh, not with a gun or any sort of violence, I assure you.” Fogg waved a long-fingered hand. “I simply found the means to walk off with a large stack of pound notes that were left unattended by a careless clerk.”
Fogg sniffed, twitching his large nostrils. “And while the Bank of England and Scotland Yard were in a frenzy searching all over London to track down the thief, I was traveling around the world to great fanfare and popular reception. No one has ever suspected that the stolen money is in my possession -- or was, that is. It’s all been spent on my trip.
“However, if I do return home in time, the amount I shall win in my wager is several times greater than the sum I . . . withdrew. Before I left England,