This is a non-profit work of fan-fiction based upon The Phantom of the Opera. All related characters, places, and events, belong to Gaston Leroux, and are used without permission. This story, with all original content, belongs to the author, © 2005, 2007. Quotes from Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas, by Jules Verne, ©1869.
Journey to the Bottom of the Lake
by Orianna2000
-ooOoo-
Quite some time ago, a shortened version of this story appeared in a humor contest. To my surprise, it did not place last... however, it's more lighthearted and fun than actually funny. Here it is revised and expanded—with the help of the ever-wise and generous Toad. Thanks go to him for the Jules Verne quotes and the excellent beta job.
-ooOoo-
Erik closed the book with a loud clap. One could easily get bored living five stories beneath an opera house, even in Paris. Sequestered in this self-made tomb, he could either read or play music, and after several years of doing just that, he found his tolerance for both growing thin. He had read the book on his lap several times already—Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea held a special interest for him, or rather, the main character of Captain Nemo did.
How could he not feel kinship to a man with "a terrible past", who had renounced society and declared himself "beyond the pale of human laws"? A "misunderstood genius" like himself, who had similarly felt the need to take refuge in a place where no one could hunt him down. An outcast of society, who still appreciated the finer things in life, and harnessed his emotions into creating spectacular music.
And yet, even in his self-imposed exile from humanity, Captain Nemo had possessed the capability to explore the world around him, and had delighted in that freedom.
Erik stalked out of his house, still clutching the book in one hand. A pale blue mist illuminated his surroundings, stone walls that he had built up around himself. He knew every inch of the tunnels and passageways below the Opera House—how could he not? Here in his own "inaccessible medium", he felt as a prisoner with solid boundaries hemming him in.
Still... the glimmer of an idea pushed back the claustrophobic depression that had begun to settle on him.
He ventured to the edge of the underground lake and studied the water's surface with interest. In all his years here, he'd never actually measured the depth of the water, merely built around its edges. Who knew what lie beneath the black surface? The desire to explore this new arena, sparked by Jules Verne's underwater adventure novel, grew strong. With something akin to glee, Erik rubbed his hands together and started planning.
He wrote letters to several prominent universities and academies of science, requesting diagrams and specifications for underwater vehicles, then spent weeks poring over them. He feverishly began to sketch out his own design for a submersible craft.
"Must be small enough to build down here," he mumbled, leaning over the worktable with shirtsleeves rolled up and ink staining his hands. He only needed it to hold two people for a few hours at the most. No need for sleeping accommodations or dining rooms such as the Nautilus possessed! He merely wanted to explore, not live, beneath the water's surface. Unfortunately, that likewise meant there would be no room for a splendid organ, such as graced Captain Nemo's study.
"Too small for a steam engine... hydro power? Or... ah!" He scribbled his ideas quickly.
Before long, he began to order the necessary supplies. Once they arrived, he started work on his creation. Of course, he never missed a lesson with Christine, but at times he would appear late and out of breath. In reply to her curious questions, he explained that he was working on a surprise—a grand adventure for the two of them.
Finally it stood complete! The vehicle sat on the edge of the lake, about the size of a modest carriage and made of hammered copper over a frame of steel ribs. In form, it resembled an odd-looking fish. A large fin protruded from the rear end to serve as a rudder. Thick circles of glass riveted to the metal and sealed with rubber provided a view from the front and sides. Special tanks would hold enough air to explore for several hours, and Erik added a series of bladders that could be filled or emptied to allow the craft to sink deep into the water or rise up quickly.
For locomotion and power, Erik had used parts of a salvaged bicycle. He needed only to pedal at a leisurely pace and the vehicle would move steadily though the water. He felt proud of his creation and could hardly wait to share it with Christine.
First, however, it needed to be tested—lest the craft prove unworthy of submersion. As much faith as he had in his own abilities, he couldn't live with himself if he accidentally drowned Christine on their first voyage into the lake! So, he bravely pushed the vehicle into the shallow water and settled himself inside the cabin. He began pedaling, and once he knew that deeper water lay below him, he activated the first set of bladders.
The water slowly rose past the window as he descended. Blackness closed in around him. For a moment, he began to panic, but it only took the flick of a switch to activate the lighting system. He'd designed it carefully, since the newly-invented electric lights cost a great deal of money. Someday, he expected, the idea would catch on and become immensely popular, but for now, the so-called "light bulbs" were terribly expensive and didn't last very long before expiring.
A dim glow appeared from the three glass spheres mounted to the front of the submarine, illuminating the sandy lake bottom. The kinetic generator performed flawlessly, storing the power created by his pedaling in a series of capacitors. It would keep the lights going for as long as necessary. Something similar might prove useful for carriages driving at night, rather than the limited light of hanging lanterns, but if they couldn't think of such things for themselves he certainly wouldn't help them!
The water appeared murky, but the lights penetrated well enough for about two meters. Beyond that, the water faded into obscurity. Even he, the master of darkness, felt a bit claustrophobic to know that water completely surrounded him and that only a few inches of steel and glass kept him from drowning. Only his sense of adventure managed to eventually push all fears to the side.
"Let's see what's out here, shall we?"
He pedaled steadily and leaned on the steering bar. The craft responded by slowly turning. The sandy bottom dropped away rather quickly, leaving him suspended in the dark water. He pulled on a lever—a gurgling sound indicated the second set of bladders filling with water. The little ship slowly sank several feet, exactly as designed.
-ooOoo-
Over the next several days, Erik explored a large area, but to his intense disappointment, nothing of interest ever appeared within the circle of light. A few fish swam by, pale and ghostly, but he discovered no hidden caves, no exotic plants or treasure. All in all, he found his underground lake to be rather boring. Yet, he had promised Christine an adventure! And desired one himself, as well.
Later, as he paced the shoreline, Erik scowled at the little submarine where it sat dripping on the sand. Certainly he'd enjoyed the challenge of building it... but now what? Images of killer squid, sunken treasure, and mermaids had swum through his mind as he'd worked. After all the work he'd put into the design and construction of his submarine, he couldn't just abandon the thing. And he couldn't very well take Christine into the lake and show her nothing but drab layers of sand and black water!
He moved into the house and thumbed through his copy of Twenty Thousand Leagues. One of the woodcut illustrations stood out and caught his attention. After a moment of scrutiny, he examined the rest, then pulled other books from his library and studied their illustrations. Ideas began to form in his mind, coalescing into an entirely new project of epic proportions. A half-smirk twisted his mouth. Yes, this would do nicely, indeed!
It took two and a half weeks of planning—simply getting his ideas onto paper and working out the intricate details; a full month of preparations—ordering supplies from around the continent, doing preliminary testing and revising; and then several more weeks of hard labor utilizing his new submarine and one of the newly invented diving suits. The compressed air tended to give him a headache after a while, so he could not work the long hours underwater that he desired. Still, much of the work could be done on the shore or in his laboratory ahead of time, so this proved to be only a small obstacle.
Working underwater, Erik became familiar with the undersea life, discovering more variety than he'd first suspected, including one or two species that shouldn't have existed there at all. After a time, he learned to catch the pale fish that populated that lake. He was disappointed by their flavor, but he found a use for them nonetheless.
Over the weeks, he laid hundreds of meters of cables, burying them beneath the sand, and he installed a great many electrical lights after carefully waterproofing them. Occasionally, he returned to find some of the lights smashed, but once he discovered the reason, he was able to avoid future problems. He worked on every detail with equal thoroughness, crafting and finalizing every small part of the project. He even made a few minor changes to his submarine, polishing it to perfection.
Once everything seemed to be done, he had to go through his scheme and look at it as though seeing it for the first time, as Christine would be, to make certain that everything looked realistic enough. In the process, Erik managed to amuse himself more than he'd imagined possible, nearly forgetting that he'd initially done all of this with Christine in mind.
Finally, he declared his project finished and brought his pupil down. Excited at Erik's promise of an amazing experience, Christine had followed him willingly. But now she stared at the submarine as though it were some giant, exotic fish that had beached itself on the shore of the lake. Green veins stained the glistening copper skin, so that it looked alien indeed. Erik saw the suspicion and mistrust in Christine's eyes and quickly moved to reassure her.
"It is completely safe, my dear. I've used it many times these past months and never gotten a drop of water on me. Come along! We shall be undertaking quite an adventure!" He helped her up the ladder and held her hand as she climbed inside. A moment later, he sat beside her, the overhead hatch securely shut.
Christine peered around at the many knobs and levers, wondering at them all. Erik patiently explained what each one did and how the small craft worked. When she applauded his genius, he decided not to add that the basic design had been around for a couple of centuries. After all, he had improved significantly on the original, hadn't he?
As the submarine began to sink into the water, Christine gasped. Fearfully, she stared at the windows, but as Erik had promised, not a drop of water appeared around the sealed edges. Within moments, they were submerged. She grasped Erik's arm, reminding him of her fear of the dark; he quickly turned on the interior and exterior lights. Her grip relaxed slightly, though she remained tense.
With skill, Erik guided the little craft into the depths of the lake. For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, a ghost fish darted past the window. Christine squealed, first with apprehension, then with brave fascination. Erik smiled to himself. How she would love this adventure!
-ooOoo-
"Look there," he said, after a while, pointing to the left. Christine leaned over to peer into the darkness.
"I don't see anything," she replied. Then she gasped. "Oh! Is that... a ship? How marvelous! Do get closer, Erik!"
He steered toward the sunken ship, thrilled at Christine's delight. Though the murky water obscured much of it, they could clearly see the broken mast and shattered hull of the ship. A tattered sail quivered in the slight current, and after a moment, a black silk flag came into view, the skull and crossbones obviously marking the ship as a pirate vessel. As they came closer, two skeletons appeared, half buried by sand. A rotting leather patch covered the right eye of one, while the other clutched a curved cutlass in his bony hand. The nose of a rusted cannon poked through the sand, testament to the fierce battle that apparently sank the ship. A few feet away, a battered treasure chest cracked open, a fortune of gold coins spilling across the lake's floor. Strands of pearls coiled about like exotic snakes, now and then disappearing beneath the sand, only to emerge again nearby. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds sparkled when the light hit them, winking from beneath the fine layers of sand and debris that time had scattered across them.
"It's just like Treasure Island!" Christine sighed, leaving a patch of fog on the window. "Only... underwater."
Erik smirked and nodded. "Pirates get too greedy, you know. Always fighting one another, firing cannons back and forth, sinking each other's ships. I wouldn't be surprised if the entire bottom of the ocean is covered with treasure, lost long ago."
Christine looked thoughtful as she watched the ship pass by. "But Erik, how could a pirate ship get down here? I'm sure the lake is big enough for one to sail across, but it is underground, and the river that feeds the lake must pass though some narrow passages. How would a ship like that get though? Much less two of them, for one to be destroyed like this."
Erik tilted his head, surprised at his pupil's intuition. The way that she usually acted made him forget that beneath her childish demeanor lie the mind of a woman, and a bright young woman at that. Perhaps he had been mistaken in his thought that she would blissfully accept this adventure as real. So he considered his words carefully, deciding to blend facts with Christine's love of fairy tales.
"Perhaps my lake was not always underground. It may be that, hundreds of years ago, the river ran freely across the landscape, joining the lake to the ocean." He added a certain tone to his words now, a particular vibration that tended to react with the subconscious to inspire utter belief. "And perhaps, my child, we are not even in the lake anymore..."
-ooOoo-
Her eyes widened but she made no protestations. She leaned toward the window, watching the pirate ship disappear. Once it passed into darkness, she looked at Erik with a gleam in her eyes, which proved reward enough for all of his hard work.
Eagerly, he pedaled toward the next surprise. He activated another one of the bladders, allowing the submarine to sink further into the water, but kept their descent subtle, so as not to frighten Christine. Once they leveled off, he checked the compass and steered in the right direction.
Within moments, they passed through a great stone arch. The submarine's lights illuminated a number of Grecian pillars littering the lake floor around them, ancient architecture now worn and crumbling. Here and there, a marble statue rose up from the sand as if to defy the ravages of age.
"The lost city of Atlantis," Christine whispered, as she stood, breathless with excitement. "It has to be—just like in the stories you've read to me!"
Erik nodded. "An extravagant culture, long lost to the sea. Such a pity, isn't it? Look, over there is a temple to Aphrodite. Though, I must confess that I find your beauty to be far greater."
She blushed and stared out the window as they passed by. All too soon, evidence of the ancient culture vanished into the blackness of the water. Christine sighed, hoping to see even more wonders.
"Here you must sit down," Erik declared with a voice no one could argue with, "For we shall pass very close by an underwater volcano. Perhaps the very one that sank Atlantis! It could be dangerous, so I will need all my concentration to navigate safely by."
Christine nodded with wide eyes. She sat, arranging her skirts nervously. Her fingers curled around the edges of her seat as the water began to take on a reddish hue. Erik steered carefully, and she did not doubt his abilities to maneuver the underwater craft. All the same, she held her breath as a storm of bubbles surrounded them, obscuring the view. The reddish glow became much stronger. Erik's hands flew across the controls. Did she imagine it, or had the temperature increased? Surely they now passed over a field of molten lava!
Slowly the bubbles eased, then vanished. The water dulled in color until it once again turned black. Christine let out a sigh of relief that made a corner of Erik's mouth quirk upward.
"Now then," he said. "We should be in much safer waters. If I remember correctly... ah, yes! Just over there. Do you see?"
She leaned her face near the window, searching the darkness. There! Something moved ahead of them in a wash of turquoise light. They drew closer, and she watched intently. Again, a movement to one side. As the area became fully illuminated, Christine laughed in delight. "Dolphins! And a sea turtle! Look, they're playing!"
The giant turtle drifted slowly along the bottom of the lake, the light mottling of its shell making it almost blend in with the sand. Above it, a pair of dolphins darted back and forth, chasing each other in play. Clusters of tall seaweed undulated in the current, offering shelter to the brightly colored fish that flashed about, daring to leave their refuge for a moment, then disappearing again within.
Cheerful sounds filled the small cabin, the clicks and chirps of dolphins calling to one another. Christine looked at Erik in wonder, but he merely shrugged in his enigmatic way.
A little further along, a transparent shape drifted alongside the submarine. Up and down it floated, gently swelling with the movements. Slender tentacles hung from the diaphanous umbrella. After a moment's contemplation, Christine identified it as a jellyfish.
"Indeed, my dear." Erik gave her a nod of approval. Not everyone in a landlocked city would recognize the mysterious sea animal. He wondered if she knew from her visits to the beaches of Sweden, or from one of the many books she had read in his house. "Splendid creatures they are—beautiful but quite deadly. Look, there's another. Do you see how they move up and down? Remarkable," he commented.
"They're so delicate. You can almost see through them; their skin shimmers like silk." Christine smiled and settled back into her seat as darkness surrounded them once again.
Erik pressed a few buttons, trying to look busy and serious. After a moment, he glanced at Christine. "Reach over there and pull that lever, would you, my dear? Yes, that's the one. Just tug it a bit. There we go..."
The submarine ascended a few feet, and the water began to take on a bluish cast.
"It's going to get cold," Erik warned. "Right about now, we're passing beneath a layer of ice."
"Ice?" She looked at him with worry.
"You needn't fear," he assured her. "We are well insulated in here! Now, we are nearly to the Arctic Circle. If you watch carefully, you might see some penguins or even a baby seal."
Something swam past the window, too quickly for her to identify. "Was that a seal?" she asked, thinking it too large to be a penguin, but not certain since she had never seen either before.
Erik frowned. "I'm not entirely sure, my dear. It did go by rather quickly. Keep an eye out—I'm sure we'll see something exciting."
The water grew brighter as they rose steadily. Opaque chunks of ice floated past the windows. Christine looked upward and saw a flash of black and white. A penguin dove into the water from an ice floe, swimming in an arc back up to the surface. A few moments later, a fellow penguin mimicked his friend. She clasped her hands together in delight. "Look, Erik! They're diving for fish!"
"Yes, indeed. Penguins are such playful creatures, always sporting around in the water, even when they're not looking for food." He allowed one of the bladders to fill again, and as they sank, the penguins disappeared from sight. They cruised through the dark blue water for several minutes before it started to grow lighter again. Erik squinted, scanning the waters in front of them. Of all the areas he'd designed, he particularly favored this next part...
"Ah, there! Christine, do you see that large white shape, just ahead? That is the bottom of an iceberg. They are much larger beneath the surface, you see. Only a small portion of that would be seen if we sailed by in a ship."
Christine nodded in understanding, her eyes riveted upward on the approaching shape. The blue lighting gave the iceberg an ominous cast. It really did seem colder in here! She shivered and rubbed her arms briskly. "And what is that dark shape, beside the iceberg?"
"Hmm? Oh, that must be a ship," Erik answered with a manic grin. "They are always sending vessels up to the North Pole to explore, you know. Shall we give them a fright?"
Before she could reply, Erik pulled a lever. The little submarine surged upward toward the ship. Christine gasped in apprehension, clinging to his arm. They bumped into the other vessel—a mild shudder rocked them. She gave a short scream, while Erik chuckled with amusement.
"They will think we are another iceberg just under the water, or perhaps a whale passing by," he explained, to mollify Christine. "No harm done, my dear. Just a little fun."
"But look!" She pointed out the window. A vague shape sank downward, slowly falling into the depths of the water. When the lights of the submarine briefly illuminated it, Christine could see the figure of a man in a proper naval uniform. Pale hair drifted around the head, obscuring his face. "Oh, Erik! Someone's fallen overboard!"
"So it would seem." He cleared his throat and cursed himself for being so careless in resetting the mechanism. Certainly he hadn't meant for Christine to see his effigy of Raoul!
"Oh, but we must rescue him!" She pressed her hands against the glass, trying to see the fate of the fallen officer.
Erik shook his head, gripping the steering bar. At least she hadn't guessed the identity of the "drowned sailor"! He guided the submarine away from the area and tried to comfort her. "Never mind, Christine. His fellows will pull him from the water. You don't think the Marine Nationale would allow one of their own to perish, now do you? They've probably already gotten him up on deck and wrapped in warm blankets by now."
"Do you think so?" She bit her lip in worry, still scanning the darkening water, trying to see.
"But of course, my dear. You needn't worry about the poor man. Erik wouldn't lie to you, would he?"
Christine finally sat down. She glanced toward the window once more, while fidgeting with her skirts. "No, of course not. You're right, I'm sure he's fine. It's only... well, the water is so awfully cold near the North Pole. And there are strange creatures around here. Suppose a whale decided to swallow him up?"
"Ah! You needn't worry on that account," Erik replied. "Whales tend to be gentle creatures, for the most part. Most haven't even any teeth!"
Seeing Christine's interest, he distracted her by explaining how whales caught tiny shrimp and plankton in the comb-like filtering system that grew in their mouths. "It's called baleen," he said. "You're probably wearing some right now, pulled from some poor, unfortunate whale."
"What?" She stared at him, startled.
He tried not to look amused. "Where did you suppose whalebone came from, my dear? Your corsets are lined with the stuff, as well as the bodice of your gown."
"Oh!" Her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink. "I didn't realize..."
"Few do," he assured her. "The actual bones of a whale would be much too stiff to use in a corset. Baleen is flexible enough to mold to your body, you see, and that is why they use it."
"How clever," she murmured, her arms wrapped around her torso, as if to hide from view the unmentionables being discussed.
Sensing her embarrassment, Erik adjusted one of the controls and changed the subject. "Now then, since you've seen a number of rather spectacular things, let's head back toward home, shall we?"
"So soon?" She looked disappointed, despite the recent traumatizing event in their adventure.
Erik glanced at her fondly. She had a brave spirit, his Christine. "Not to fret," he said. "I'm certain the voyage home won't lack excitement."
-ooOoo-
He consulted the compass, allowing the little submarine to sink down a couple of meters. They drifted along in silence for a time. Idly, Erik wondered what sort of acoustics his homemade vehicle had and whether Christine's voice would sound good underwater. The idea put a whole new slant on the concept of his Siren... although he doubted anyone above the water would be able to hear, should Christine sing down here.
"Speaking of sirens..." he murmured. He leaned forward to be sure they were passing the right area, and then got Christine's attention. "Look there, on the rocks ahead. Do you see them?"
She squinted at first, able to see only a blurred shape in the distance. A faint sound filled the cabin, reverberating through the metal hull. It almost sounded like someone singing from far away. As they grew closer, the sound resolved into a quiet series of arias, very sensual and otherworldly. When the lights of the submarine began to illuminate the scene, Christine cried out in delight.
"Mermaids! Oh, Erik. How enchanting! It must be them singing, and look! One is brushing her hair. She must not see us."
Upon a cluster of rocks sat two mermaids. Their long hair floated about their shoulders, rippling with the current. One held a silver brush, attempting to tame her wild tresses, while the other curved her head back in song. Each wore a corset to match her tail—one the color of seaweed, the other of rich coral. Even in the dim light, their fins shimmered like silk. Never had Christine seen anything so beautiful. She expected them to swim away at any moment, but they seemed not to notice the passage of the strange fish that carried two live observers.
Erik felt a surge of pride at the obvious success of his many months of work. He hadn't been sure if the illusions would fool any, save the youngest of children, but Christine seemed more than willing to suspend reality for a few hours. No doubt his quietly voiced suggestions did much to blur the line between reality and fantasy—she had always been susceptible to the power of his voice. And as many times as he'd made the rounds by himself, privately enjoying the series of dioramas, he loved having Christine along, to see it through fresh eyes.
"Well, then. We are nearly home. Have you enjoyed yourself, my dear?"
Christine smiled at him. "Oh, yes! Tremendously."
"Good." Erik nodded, emptying the last of the bladders to allow them to rise. "Perhaps we can do it again sometime. Who knows what we'll see next time?"
"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, and grabbed hold of Erik's arm, clearly frightened.
He glanced out the window, but saw nothing to cause alarm. "What is it, my dear? Did one of the mermaids follow us home?"
"Not... not a mermaid!" she said, her voice quavering. "Didn't you see?"
He frowned thoughtfully and stopped pedaling. "I didn't see anything at all. Was it, perhaps, a fish swimming by?"
Christine looked at him petulantly. "I wouldn't be frightened of a fish! This was... well, I don't know what it was. But it was awful!"
"Hmm. Let's take a look." He adjusted a series of knobs that maneuvered a number of mirrors about the underwater vehicle. Certain ones reflected the light as well, so that he could see in all directions quite clearly for several meters. And he saw—nothing, for the moment.
He began to pedal again, but slowly, not eager to get home quite yet. "Was it quite big? We haven't seen anything large, yet, have we? But, you know, this lake feeds into an underground river that empties into La Manche, or the English Channel as they so originally dubbed it in England. I suppose that, in theory, any sort of sea creature might find its way in here."
As he'd hoped, Christine shifted closer to him, her eyes growing wider. While he spoke, her hands tightened around his arm. She was clearly frightened, but trusted in him completely. He looked at her with a longing he couldn't quite hide, but the mood vanished the moment she screamed.
"There!" she cried, pointing to one of the mirrors.
Erik had to squint to make out the dark shape that appeared behind them. It approached quickly, and he raised an eyebrow as the shadow split into several shapes. With Christine wailing in his ear, he recognized eight tentacles plus two longer, thinner ones. They reached toward the submarine with alarming speed. He began to pedal faster.
Christine's screams sounded muffled in the enclosed area, not at all the way he'd imagined her voice would be underwater. She clung to him, but he could not enjoy her proximity due to the high pitched sounds of fright.
One tentacle wrapped around a protruding mirror, snapping it off. After a moment's debate, the tentacle returned, coiling firmly around a different part of the submarine. Christine whimpered, her terrified gaze moving from the window to Erik, as he pulled away from her. She stared as he walked to the back of the craft.
"You needn't be afraid," he said, oddly calm.
The little submarine shuddered in the grasp of the giant squid, belying Erik's words, but he remained composed, pushing buttons and flipping various switches. "When I built this craft, I never had any intention of using this feature," he said. "It was more of a whim, to imitate the Nautilus. Now then, that should be just about right. Listen carefully, Christine—I want you to draw your feet up. Be certain that you aren't touching the floor at all, do you understand?"
She nodded and curled up in the seat, tucking her skirt around her knees for good measure. "Are you going to kill it...whatever it is?"
"It seems to be an uncommon creature, to say the least. A giant squid, if I'm not mistaken! No one has ever seen a live one—they've only ever washed up on the shores, dead. It would be a travesty to kill such a beast. No, I shall merely try to stun it so that we may get away."
"I'm glad," she replied, her voice shaking just a little. "It only thinks we're food, doesn't it? The poor thing."
Erik sat back down and gazed at Christine with considerable respect. Such courage she had! As he watched, she tried to look out the window to view the squid as a majestic creature of the seas, rather than a monster trying to kill them. When a tentacle covered with huge suckers slapped against the window, she couldn't help but shriek and grab onto Erik's arm once more. Courage, yes, but still afraid. Who wouldn't be, with such a beast shaking their tiny world about?
She leaned against him, shivering, and he slipped one arm around her shoulders, delighted beyond words that she let him comfort her in such a manner. With a quick flick of his other hand, a vibrating hum filled the air. Static caused Christine's hair to rise on end, and he felt his own scalp tingling. The lights dimmed as the power diverted from the capacitors. A small charge of electricity flowed through the metal hull. With an indignant screech the squid let go.
"There, you see? We're not worth the trouble, it seems." He chuckled, and began pedaling once more.
Christine kept an anxious watch on the mirrors, but the water remained black and empty behind them. Within a few minutes, he announced that he could see the dock just ahead. Home, safe and sound.
-ooOoo-
The craft emerged from the water with a slight splash, and Erik moved swiftly to open the hatch. Christine climbed out, not pausing until her feet rested on dry land. Once he joined her, she clung to him.
Speechless at first, he patted Christine's hair gently and looked down at her, savoring the moment. She did not often feel the need to touch him. A hug, no matter the reason, would always be an event to be treasured.
"There now! Quite the adventure, was it not? Just as I promised," he said, once he could speak without betraying his emotions. He hoped she'd enjoyed the underwater trip, even with the squid attack. He had loved every moment, treasuring her delight and wonder, and even her fear, for it brought her closer to him.
She smiled bravely. "I'm glad you let me go with you. Is your little ship all right?"
He hadn't even thought of that. Curious, he let go of Christine and inspected the sides of the submarine. In several places, the copper surface appeared marred. One such spot clearly showed the squid's size—round marks left by the suction cups, each considerably larger than a silver five-franc coin. That alone signified a beast of immense proportions. Had it been so inclined, the squid could have cracked the vehicle like an egg!
"It will take a while to repair the damage," he said, with a sigh. "That's too bad. We won't be able to go underwater again for some time."
Christine touched his arm lightly. "I don't mind. It was perfectly lovely, until the end, but I don't think we dare go in the water again, not with a creature like that swimming about. It wouldn't be safe!"
"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "The little jolt worked fine to keep him away, but he did cause quite a lot of damage to my submarine. Next time might not be so lucky. Suppose he'd cracked a window!"
Christine shivered against him, and he hurried to stroke her hair. "Never mind, my dear. It's no use worrying about what might've happened. We survived, and had quite a nice day of it, too. What was your favorite part? The mermaids?"
"Mmm." She sighed. "The jellyfish, I suppose. They looked so peaceful, and so beautiful. But the ruins of Atlantis were lovely, as well."
"Yes, they were, weren't they?" He turned to escort Christine up into the house, but paused for a moment to look back out at the lake. A ripple caught his attention, several meters from the shore. Something glowed faintly, just under the surface. An eye! The creature was watching them.
"Go inside the house, Christine," he instructed quietly. "I'll be along in a moment."
Erik waited until she'd shut the door behind her, then strode to the edge of the dock. He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. From behind a rock, he pulled a bucket filled with water and several squirming ghost fish. One at a time, he tossed the fish, aiming toward the glowing circle.
Tentacles splashed wildly, catching each fish as it came. Erik didn't care for the pale fish, but the squid certainly favored them. Once the bucket had emptied, he called out softly, "Good job, my friend. Good job."
(fin)