Jules Verne - Двадцать тысяч лье под водой / Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea

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Профессор Пьер Аронакс отправляется в экспедицию, целью которой является поимка чудовища, постоянно терроризирующего простые корабли. «Чудовищем» оказывается подводная лодка «Наутилус» под управлением загадочного капитана Немо. На борту «Наутилуса» профессору выпадает уникальный шанс исследовать множество чудес, скрытых в глубинах мирового океана.
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I decided to divide our energies so we wouldn’t both be worn out at the same time: while one of us lay on his back, staying motionless with arms crossed and legs outstretched, the other would swim and propel his partner forward.

I calculated on eight hours of swimming until sunrise. A strenuous task, but feasible, thanks to our relieving each other. The sea was pretty smooth and barely tired us.

Near one o’clock in the morning, I was overcome with tremendous exhaustion. And I soon heard the poor Conseil gasping; his breathing became shallow and quick. I didn’t think he could stand such exertions for much longer.

“Go on! Go on!” I told him.

“Leave master behind?” he replied. “Never!”

The moon appeared. The surface of the sea glistened under its rays. I held up my head. I saw the frigate. It was five miles from us and formed a dark, barely perceptible mass. But as for longboats, not a one in sight!

I tried to call out. What was the use at such a distance! My swollen lips wouldn’t let a single sound through. Conseil could still articulate a few words, and I heard him repeat at intervals:

“Help! Help!”

We listened. And it may have been a ringing in my ear, but it seemed to me that Conseil’s shout had received an answer back.

“Did you hear that?” I muttered.

“Yes, yes!”

And Conseil hurled another desperate plea into space.

This time there could be no mistake! A human voice had answered us! Was it the voice of some other victim of that collision suffered by our ship? Or was it one of the frigate’s longboats, hailing us out of the gloom?

Conseil made one final effort, he raised himself half out of the water, then fell back exhausted.

“What did you see?”

“I saw … ,” he muttered, “I saw … but we mustn’t talk … save our strength … !”

What had he seen? Conseil kept towing me. Sometimes he looked up, stared straight ahead, and shouted a request for directions, which was answered by a voice that was getting closer and closer. I could barely hear it. I was at the end of my strength; my fingers gave out; my hands were no help to me; my mouth opened convulsively, filling with brine. I raised my head one last time, then I fainted.

Someone was massaging me vigorously. I half opened my eyes.

“Conseil!” I muttered.

Just then, in the last light of a moon, I saw a face that wasn’t Conseil’s but which I recognized at once.

“Ned!” I exclaimed.

“In person, sir, and still after his prize!” the Canadian replied.

“You were thrown overboard after the frigate’s collision?”

“Yes, professor, but I was luckier than you, and right away I was able to set foot on this floating islet.”

“Islet?”

“Or in other words, on our gigantic narwhale.”

“Explain yourself, Ned.”

“It’s just that I soon realized why my harpoon couldn’t puncture its hide.”

“Why, Ned, why?”

“Because, professor, this beast is made of steel!”

The Canadian’s last words caused a sudden upheaval in my brain. I swiftly hoisted myself to the summit of this half-submerged creature or object that was serving as our refuge. I tested it with my foot. Obviously it was some hard, impenetrable substance, not the soft matter that makes up the bodies of our big marine mammals.

The blackish back supporting me was smooth and polished. And it was made of riveted plates [22] riveted plates – листовое железо .

No doubts were possible! This animal, this monster, this natural phenomenon that had puzzled the whole scientific world, was an even more astonishing phenomenon—a phenomenon made by the hand of man.

Even if I had discovered that some fabulous, mythological creature really existed, it wouldn’t have given me such a terrific mental jolt.

There was no question now. We were lying on the back of some kind of underwater boat that boasted the shape of an immense steel fish.

“But then,” I said, “does this contraption contain some sort of locomotive mechanism, and a crew to run it?”

“Apparently,” the harpooner replied. “And yet for the three hours I’ve lived on this floating island, it hasn’t shown a sign of life.”

“This boat hasn’t moved at all?”

“No, Professor Aronnax. It just rides with the waves.”

“But we know that it’s certainly gifted with great speed. Now then, since an engine is needed to generate that speed, and a mechanic to run that engine, I conclude: we’re saved.”

“Humph!” Ned Land muttered. “As long as it swims, I’ve no complaints. But if it dives, I wouldn’t give $2.00 for my life!”

So it was imperative to make contact with someone inside the plating of this machine. I searched its surface for an opening or a hatch; but the lines of rivets were straight and uniform.

Moreover, the moon then disappeared and left us in profound darkness. We had to wait for daylight to find some way of getting inside this underwater boat.

Near four o’clock in the morning, the submersible picked up speed. We could barely cope with this dizzying rush.

Finally the long night was over. I thought I heard indistinct sounds, a sort of elusive harmony produced by distant musical chords. What beings lived inside this strange boat? What mechanical force allowed it to move about with such prodigious speed?

Daylight appeared. The morning mists surrounded us. I was about to proceed with a careful examination of the hull, when I felt it sinking little by little.

“Oh, damnation!” Ned Land shouted, stamping his foot on the resonant sheet iron. “Open up there, you navigators!”

Fortunately this submerging movement stopped. From inside the boat, there suddenly came noises of iron fastenings. One of the steel plates flew up, a man appeared, gave a bizarre yell, and instantly disappeared.

A few moments later, eight fellows appeared silently, their faces like masks, and dragged us down into their fearsome machine.

Chapter 8

This capture was carried out with lightning speed. My companions and I had no time to collect ourselves. I don’t know how they felt, but as for me, I was shivering all over. With whom were we dealing? Surely with some pirates.

The narrow hatch had barely closed over me when I was surrounded by profound darkness. I felt my naked feet clinging to the steps of an iron ladder. Ned Land and Conseil were behind me. At the foot of the ladder, a door opened and instantly closed behind us.

We were alone. Where? I couldn’t say, I couldn’t even imagine. All was darkness.

“Damnation!” Ned Land exclaimed. “These people are not very hospitable! I wouldn’t be surprised if they were cannibals!”

“Calm yourself, Ned my friend,” Conseil replied serenely. “We aren’t in a kettle yet!”

“In a kettle, no,” the Canadian shot back, “but in an oven for sure. Luckily my knife hasn’t left me, and I can still see well enough to use it. The first one of these bandits who lays a hand on me—”

“Don’t be so irritable, Ned,” I then told the harpooner, “and don’t ruin things for us. Who knows whether they might be listening to us? Instead, let’s try to find out where we are!”

Half an hour had already gone by without our situation changing, when our eyes saw blinding light. Our prison lit up all at once. I recognized the electric glow.

“Finally! It’s light enough to see!” Ned Land exclaimed, knife in hand.

“Yes,” I replied. “But as for our situation, we’re still in the dark.”

“Master must learn patience,” said the emotionless Conseil.

This sudden illumination of our cabin enabled me to examine its details. It contained only a table and five stools. Its invisible door must have been hermetically sealed. Not a sound reached our ears. Everything seemed dead inside this boat. Was it in motion, or stationary on the surface of the ocean, or sinking into the depths? I couldn’t tell.

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