Nemo Rising by C. Courtney Joyner

Author:C. Courtney Joyner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

* * *

“General, certainly glad you survived the melee,” Lime said, pouring new powders into a flash pan set next to his camera, both on tripods, and facing the other side of the cellar, toward the breathing machinery. “I didn’t think your friend there would let me make it without another beating, but here I am. Not quite big as life, but still here, eh?”

Lime cackled, slipping on his dark glasses, framed gold, and dangling around his neck on a chain. He checked apertures on the studio-folding camera, the price still on its bellows. He attached a cable plunger to camera and flash, then set off a bigger burst of light.

“A little yellow,” Lime said, “but, it’ll have wonderful detail.”

He bowed toward Grant. “Despite the manhandling, I owe you a debt, sir. I even had time for new equipment, to celebrate our little arrangement.”

Grant said, “Just honor it.”

“Oh, yes.” Lime brushed sprinkles of magnesium from his new green shirt, reset his trouser crease. “You’ll be telling me what to print, and when, or I’ll face a bloody firing squad. That’s motivation enough.”

“But isn’t it coincidental,” Lime pointed to the other side of the cellar, “that all these secrets take place underground? Or under the sea?”

Lime hooted through his nose, the voice of a crow. Behind him, the machines continued their breathing, drawing air and exhaling more rapidly. He set his camera. Ignited the flash pan. Still brighter.

He said, “When these are on the front pages, General, the entire world will be envious of your United States and your wondrous toys.”

Lime quickly pulled the exposed negative plate, replaced it, then brought the camera to a corner, taking in all of the secret apparatus with its short lens.

His voice was almost singing: “This creation of yours will soak the hearts of your enemies with fear. Just like Captain Nemo. You really should have Mr. Spilett write it up that way.”

Grant tore his glasses off. “What about your damn spying?”

“Your man got every single picture I took of Nemo, the Nautilus, and the waterfront,” Lime said. “And destroyed my specialty cameras. So, did any of Norfolk survive?”

Grant ignored this last, turned to Duncan. “Mrs. Grant’s waiting. In five minutes, we’ll be buried in half-guesses and ignorant battle plans for all this insanity, and I need to speak to someone.”

And then, to Maston: “The Leprechaun stays until we’re gone.”

* * *

The White House was on high-alert.

Guards patrolled the lawns, and a wash of light from their lanterns spilled into Duncan’s corner office, throwing shadows across the submarine diagrams on the walls. Slicing them into sinkable sections.

Duncan sat at his desk, back to the submarines, teakettle boiling, and the Phono-tele-Photo coming to life.

Fingers moved expertly over the dials, finding optimum signal strength, before he spoke into the receiver horn. “Sweet, it’s your father. Can you hear me? Nemo, are you getting this transmission? This is Duncan, calling the Nautilus. The situation’s changed, and I want to talk to my daughter, know that she’s faring well. This is Duncan.

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