The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen by Kevin J. Anderson Page A

Quatermam knew you as a
grown man when he was just a boy? Even before, when we were together, I wasn't
naive enough to think that your 'youth' was due to clean living. You haven't
aged a day."
    "Its an overrated practice. And you yourself don't appear a moment
older."
    "I have an excuse."
    "So do I."
    As she turned away from Gray and started toward the conning tower's hatch,
Sawyer watched the beautiful woman with obvious admiration.
    Quatermain continued to study his elephant gun, gazing through the sight and
never taking his eyes away, but still he sensed Sawyers fascination with Mina
Harker. "She's out of your league, boy."
    With good-natured American cockiness, Sawyer said, "Fortune rewards the bold,
Mr. Quatermain." He stepped forward with his disarming grin, intending to be a
gentleman and open the hatch for Mina. "If you require any help during the
voyage, Mrs. Harker, let me know."
    Mina let him work the heavy hatch. "Help? I'm curious as to how you think you
could assist me, Agent Sawyer."
    The young man struggled with the wheel, still grinning. "Oh, heavy lifting.
Light banter. Whatever you need. I'm a useful guy."
    "Not to me," Mina said as he finally hauled open the hatch. "You're sweet and
young, Mr. Sawyer. Neither of which are traits I hold in high regard."
    Sawyer managed to keep a straight face as Mina descended into the confues of
the
Nautilus
. "Well, you're sure to the point, Ma'am. I'll give you
that."
    Gray followed a moment later with a smug smirk, enjoying a moment of
amusement at the young agent's expense. Sawyer stayed outside on the upper deck,
not sure what to do next.
    As he stared across the open, peaceful waves, Captain Nemo received a message
from Ishmael. He called to the others still on the conning tower. "We will be
diving in a moment. Please come back inside."
    "Good," said Sawyer, humiliated. He glanced back at Quatermain, who remained
farthest from the hatchway.
    Their eyes locked as the old hunter cracked open the gun and ejected
shells.

    Only a few minutes later, the
Nautilus
dove beneath the waves,
slowly descending like a leviathan. Turbines churned, propellers cut the water,
and a great belch of ballast bubbles boiled upward.
    The golden statues on the conning tower and the bow stood against the brine,
as if resisting the depths to the last moment, and then they too sank deep
beneath the waves.

FIFTEEN
The
Bridge of the

Nautilus
    Nemo sat in his scrolled captains chair, using nautical logs of his own
design to plot their best course to the northeastern coast of Italy. Lead
scribing pencils and protractors lay spread out on the chart table.
    Outside, schools of silver fish swirled about, attracted by the submarines
dazzling running lights, but fleeing from the swift approach of the armor-plated
vessel.
    So far they had traveled down the Thames and out of London, across the
English Channel and along the French coast to the Seine, which they had followed
to Paris. They had navigated back out to the Atlantic, keeping to the deep
waters around the Iberian Peninsula, and passed through the Strait of Gibraltar
into the calm, blue Mediterranean on their way to Italy.
    Not bad for little more than a day's sailing.
    When a low whistle signal sounded from the galley, Nemo looked at the ticking
enclosed clock in its alcove on the bridge. He rose from his labors, stretched,
and turned to the apparently unoccupied room. "Dinner is imminent, Mr. Skinner.
Put some clothes on, there's a good fellow."
    He walked off the bridge, leaving it empty, save for the silent invisible
man. Skinner coughed, as if disappointed that the captain had remembered his
presence there…

    Hearing Nemo approach, Quatermain stepped quickly out of his cabin, nearly
bumping into the
Nautilus
captain as he passed by. "Dinner is served,
Quatermain. I can offer you a jacket, if you require one."
    "Thank you, no. I've lived in Africa too long to stand on stuffy old ceremony
like