"Or she!" Fiona said.
"Or she," the captain agreed. "Aye?"
"Aye!" Violet cried.
"Aye!" Klaus shouted.
"Aye!" Sunny shrieked.
"Hooray!" Phil yelled.
Captain Widdershins peered down in annoyance at Phil, whom he would have preferred say "Aye!" along with everyone else. "Cookie!" he ordered. "Do the dishes! The rest of you get some shut-eye! Aye!"
"Shut-eye?" Violet asked. "Aye! It means 'sleep'!" the captain explained.
"We know what it means," Klaus said. "We're just surprised that we're supposed to sleep through the mission."
"It'll take some time to get to the cave!" the captain said. "I want you four to be well-rested in case you're needed! Now go to your barracks! Aye!"
It is one of life's bitterest truths that bedtime so often arrives just when things are really getting interesting. The Baudelaires were not particularly in the mood to toss and turn in the Queequeg's barracks – a word which here means "a type of bedroom that is usually uncomfortable" – as the submarine drew closer and closer to the mysterious grotto and its indispensable item, a phrase which here means "the sugar bowl, although the children did not know why it was so important."
But as they followed Fiona out of the Main Hall and back down the corridor, past the plaque advertising the captain's personal philosophy, the door to the supply room, and an uncountable number of leaky metal pipes, the siblings felt quite tired, and by the time Fiona opened a door to reveal a small, green-lit room stacked with saggy bunk beds, the three children were already yawning.
Perhaps it was because of their long, exhausting day, which had begun on the icy summit of Mount Fraught, but Violet didn't ponder one single mechanical idea as she got into bed, as she usually did before she went to sleep. Klaus scarcely had time to put his glasses on a small bedside table before he nodded off, a phrase which here means "fell asleep without considering even one of the books he had recently read." Sunny curled up on a pillow, and she didn't waste one moment dreaming up new recipes – preferably entrées that were less mushy than chowder, as she still enjoyed biting things as much as she did when she was a baby, before she was dreaming herself. And even Fiona, whose bedtime habits are less familiar to me than that of the Baudelaires', put her glasses next to Klaus's and was asleep in moments.
The whirring engine of the Queequeg sent them deeper and deeper into slumber for several hours, and they probably would have slept much longer if the children hadn't been awakened by a terrible – and terribly familiar – noise. It was a loud, unnerving scraping, like fingernails against a chalkboard, and the Baudelaires were almost shaken out of bed as the entire submarine rattled.
"What was that?" Violet asked.
"We hit something," Fiona said grimly, grabbing her glasses in one hand and her diving helmet in the other. "We'd better see what the situation is."
The Baudelaires nodded in agreement, and hurried out of the barracks and back down the corridor. There was an unnerving splashing sound coming from a few of the tubes, and Klaus had to pick up Sunny to carry her over several large puddles.
"Is the submarine collapsing?" Klaus asked.
"We'll know soon enough," Fiona said, and she was correct.
In moments she'd led the Baudelaires Back into the Main Hall, where Phil and the captain were standing at the table, staring out the porthole into black nothingness. They each had grim expressions on their faces, although Phil was trying to smile at the same time.
"It's good you got some rest," the optimist said. "There's a real adventure ahead of you."
"I'm glad you brought your diving helmets," Captain Widdershins said. "Aye!"
"Why?" Violet asked. "Is the Queequeg seriously damaged?"
"Aye!" the captain said. "I mean, no. The submarine is damaged, but she'll hold – for now. We reached the Gorgonian Grotto about an hour ago, and I was able to steer us inside with no problem. But the cave got narrower and narrower as we maneuvered further and further inside."
"The book said the grotto was conical," Klaus said. "That means it's shaped like a cone."
"Aye!" the captain said. "The entrance was the wide end of the cone, but now it's too narrow for the submarine to travel. If we want to retrieve the sugar bowl we'll have to use something smaller."
"Periscope?" Sunny asked.
"No," Captain Widdershins replied. "A child."
Chapter Six
" You youngsters look very spiffy in those helmets!" Phil said, with a wide, optimistic smile on his face. "I know you must be a little nervous, but I'm sure all of you children will rise to the occasion!"
The Baudelaire orphans sighed, and looked at one another from inside their diving helmets. When someone tells you that you will rise to the occasion, it means they think you'll be strong or skillful enough for a particular situation, but Violet, Klaus, and Sunny did not know if they could rise to the occasion when they were so afraid of sinking. Although they had dragged their helmets back and forth to the barracks, they hadn't realized how awkward they were until they had strapped them onto their waterproof uniforms. Violet did not like the fact that she couldn't reach through the helmet to tie up her hair, in case she needed to invent something on the spur of the moment, a phrase which here means "while traveling through the Gorgonian Grotto." Klaus found that it was difficult to see, as the small circular window in his helmet interfered with his glasses. And Sunny was not at all happy about curling up inside her helmet, shutting the tiny door, and being carried by her sister as if she were a volleyball instead of a young girl.
When they had put their uniforms on just a few hours earlier, the three siblings thought that the waterproof stilts had fit them like a glove. But now, as they followed Captain Widdershins out of the Main Hall and down the damp and dripping corridor, the children feared that the uniforms fit more like an anchor, dragging them down to the depths of the sea.
"Don't worry," Fiona said, as though she were reading the Baudelaires' minds. She gave the siblings a small smile from behind her diving helmet. "I assure you that these suits are completely safe – safe, but uncomfortable."
"As long as we can breathe," Violet said, "I don't care how uncomfortable they are."
"Of course you'll be able to breathe!" the captain said. "Aye! The oxygen systems in your helmets provide plenty of air for a short journey! Of course, if there's any opportunity to remove your helmets, you should do so! Aye! That way the system can recharge itself, and you'll have more air."
"Where would we find an opportunity to remove our helmets in an underwater cave?" Klaus asked.
"Who knows?" Captain Widdershins said. "Aye! You'll be in uncharted waters. I wish I could go myself! Aye! But the grotto has become too narrow!"
"Hewenkella," Sunny said. Her voice was muffled inside the helmet, and it was difficult for even her siblings to know what she was saying. "I think my sister is curious about how we'll be able to see our way," Violet said. "Does the Queequeg have any waterproof flashlights?"
"Flashlights won't help you," the captain replied. "Aye! It's too dark! Aye! But you won't need to see your way. Aye! If Klaus's calculations are correct, the tide will just push you along. Aye! You won't even have to swim! You can just sit there, and you'll drift right to the sugar bowl!"
"That seems like an awfully passive way to travel," Fiona said.
"Aye!" her stepfather agreed. "It does! But there is no other solution! And we should not hesitate!" He stopped and pointed to his plaque. "He or she who hesitates is lost!" he reminded them.
"It's a little hard not to hesitate," Violet said, "before doing something like this."
"It's not too late to draw straws!" the captain said. "Aye! You don't all have to go together!"
"The three of us prefer not to be separated," Klaus said. "We've had too much trouble that way."
"I should think you've had too much trouble in any case!" the captain said. "Aye!"
"The Baudelaires are right, Stepfather," Fiona sa
id. "This way makes the most sense. We may need Violet's mechanical expertise, or Klaus's knowledge of the tidal charts. And Sunny's size may come in handy, if the grotto gets even smaller."
"Ulp," Sunny said, which meant something like, "I don't like the idea of drifting by myself in a diving helmet."
"What about you, Fiona?" the captain asked. "Aye! You could stay here with me!"
"My skills might be needed as well," Fiona said quietly, and the Baudelaires shuddered, trying not to think about the Medusoid Mycelium and its poisonous spores.
"Aye!" Captain Widdershins admitted, and smoothed his mustache with one gloved finger. "Well, I'm going to tell V.F.D. all about this! Aye! All four of you volunteers will receive citations for bravery!"
The Baudelaires looked at one another as best they could through the small circular windows. A citation for bravery is nothing more than a piece of paper stating that you have been courageous at some time, and such citations have not been known to be very useful when confronted by danger, whether deep underwater, or, as the Baudelaires would eventually learn, high up in the air. Anyone can write up a citation for bravery, and I have even been known to write one for myself from time to time, in order to keep my spirits up in the middle of a treacherous journey. The three siblings were more interested in surviving their voyage through the Gorgonian Grotto than in receiving a written statement complimenting them on their courage, but they knew Captain Widdershins was trying to keep their spirits up as he led them down the corridor and into the room where they had first encountered the captain of the Queequeg.
"To get into the water," the captain said, "you just climb up that same ladder and give a holler when you're at the hatch. Then I'll activate a valve down here, so the submarine won't flood with water when you open it. Then, as I said, you'll just let the current carry you. You should end up in the same place as the sugar bowl."
"And you still won't tell us why the sugar bowl is important?" Violet couldn't help asking.
"It's not the sugar bowl," Captain Widdershins said, "it's what's inside it. Aye! I've already said too much! Aye! There are secrets in this world too terrible for young people to know! Just think – if you knew about the sugar bowl and you somehow fell into Count Olaf's clutches, there's no telling what he'd do! Aye!"
"But look on the bright side," Phil pointed out. "Whatever terrible things may be lurking in that cave, you won't find Count Olaf. There's no way that octopus submarine could fit!"
"Aye!" the captain agreed. "But we'll watch for him on the sonar, just in case! We'll watch you too! Aye! We'll be right here watching you the entire time! The oxygen systems in your helmets make enough noise that you'll appear as four tiny dots on our screen! Now, off you go! Good luck!"
"We'll be wishing you the best!" Phil said.
The adults gave each of the children a pat on the helmet, and without any further hesitation, off went the Baudelaire children with Fiona behind them, following the ladder up to the hatch through which they had come aboard. The four volunteers were quiet as they made their way up, until Violet reached up with one hand – the other hand was clutching Sunny's helmet – and grabbed the handle that opened the hatch.
"We're ready!" she called down, although she did not feel ready at all.
"Aye!" replied the voice of the captain. "I'm activating the valve now! Wait five seconds and then open the hatch! Aye! But don't hesitate! Aye! He who hesitates is lost! Aye! Or she! Aye! Good luck! Aye! Good fortune! Aye! Good journey! Aye! Good-bye!"
There was a distant clanging, presumably the sound of the valve activating, and the four children waited for five seconds, just as you may wish to wait a few seconds yourself, so all thoughts of the Baudelaires' predicament will vanish from your imagination so that you will not be weeping as you learn several boring facts about the water cycle.
The water cycle, to review, consists of three key phenomena – evaporation, precipitation, and collection – which are all equally boring and thus equally less upsetting than what happened to the Baudelaires when Violet opened the hatch and the icy, dark waters of the sea rushed into the passageway. If you were to read what happened to them in the moments that followed, you would find yourself unable to sleep as you wept into your pillow and pictured the children all alone in that grim grotto, drifting slowly to the end of the cavern, and yet if you read about the water cycle you would find yourself unable to stay awake, due to the boring description of the process by which water is distributed around the world, and so as a courtesy to you I will continue this book in a way that is best for all concerned.
The water cycle consists of three phenomena – evaporation, precipitation, and collection- which are the three phenomena that make up what is known as "the water cycle." Evaporation, the first of these phenomena, is the process of water turning into vapor and eventually forming clouds, such as those found in cloudy skies, or on cloudy days, or even cloudy nights. These clouds are formed by a phenomenon known as "evaporation," which is the first of three phenomena that make up the water cycle. Evaporation, the first of these three, is simply a term for a process by which water turns into vapor and eventually forms clouds. Clouds can be recognized by their appearance, usually on cloudy days or nights, when they can be seen in cloudy skies. The name for the process by which clouds are formed – by water, which turns into vapor and becomes part of the formation known as "clouds" – is "evaporation," the first phenomenon in the three phenomena that make up the cycle of water, otherwise known as "the water cycle," and surely you must be asleep by now and so can be spared the horrifying details of the Baudelaires' journey.
The instant Violet opened the hatch, the passageway flooded with water, and the children drifted out of the submarine and into the blackness of the Gorgonian Grotto. The Baudelaires knew, of course, that the Queequeg had entered an underwater cave, but still they were unprepared for how very dark and cold it was. Sunlight had not reached the waters of the grotto for quite some time – not since Anwhistle Aquatics was still up and running, a phrase which here means "not destroyed under suspicious circumstances" – and the water felt like a freezing black glove, encircling the children with its chilly fingers.
As Klaus had predicted after studying the tidal charts, the currents of the cave carried the youngsters away from the submarine, but in the darkness it was impossible to see how fast or far they were going. Within moments the four volunteers lost sight of the Queequeg, and then of one another.
Had the grotto been equipped with some sort of lighting system, as it once had, the children could have seen a number of things. They might have noticed the mosaic on the grotto floor – thousands and thousands of colorful tiles, depicting noble events from the early history of a secret organization, and portraits of famous writers, scientists, artists, musicians, philosophers, and chefs who had inspired the organization 's members. They might have seen an enormous, rusted pumping machine, which was able to drain the entire grotto, or flood it with seawater again, in mere minutes. They might have gazed upward and seen the sharp angles of various Vertical Flame Diversions and other secret passageways that once led all the way up to the marine research center and rhetorical advice service, or even spotted the person who was using one of the passageways now, and probably for the last time, as she made her difficult and dark way toward the Queequeg. But instead, all the children could see through their small circular windows was darkness.
The Baudelaires had seen darkness before, of course – darkness in secret passageways and tunnels, darkness in abandoned buildings and empty streets, darkness in the eyes of wicked people, and even darkness in other caves. But never before had the orphans felt so completely in the dark as they did now. They did not know where they were, although once Violet felt, very briefly, her feet brush up against something very smooth, like a tile fitted firmly against the ground. They could not tell where they were going, although after a while Klaus had a suspicion that the current had spun him so he was traveling upside down. And they could not tell when the
y would arrive, although from time to time Sunny saw, through her diving helmet, a tiny dot of light, much like the tiny dots Captain Widdershins said they would appear as on the sonar screen of his submarine.
The Baudelaires drifted along in cold, dark silence, feeling afraid and confused and strangely lonely, and when their journey finally ended, it was so sudden it felt as if they had fallen into a deep, deep sleep, as deep and dark as the cavern itself, and now were being jolted awake.
At first, it sounded as if a bushel of broken glass were raining down on the children, but then the children realized they had drifted to the surface of the water, and in one curling, fluid motion, the tide pushed them onto something that felt like a beach, and the three siblings found themselves crawling on a slope of dark, wet sand.
"Klaus?" Violet called through her helmet. "Are you there? What's happened?"
"I don't know," Klaus replied. He could just barely see his sister crawling alongside him. "We couldn't have reached the surface of the sea – we were very, very deep. Is Sunny with you?"
"Yes," Sunny said, from inside her helmet. "Fiona?"
"I'm here," came the voice of the mycologist. "But where are we? How can we still be below the surface of the sea, without any water around us?"
"I'm not sure," Klaus said, "but it must be possible. After all, a submarine can be below the sea and stay dry."
"Are we on another submarine?" Violet asked.
"I dunno," Sunny said, and frowned in her helmet. "Look!"