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Nelinha frowns. ‘Why would she want to do that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ester says. ‘Because it’s cool?’

That afternoon, I spend most of my time on the pipe organ. I don’t plan it that way. I run through one Bach fugue just because the crew is curious. Most of them have never heard me play.

When I finish, I realize everyone on the bridge is staring at me.

‘That was beautiful,’ Virgil says.

From the overhead speaker, Meadow Newman says, ‘Engine room. Hey, Ana? Keep doing that. Panels lit up down here that we haven’t been able to get working before.’

So I play another Bach piece. After that I play ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon. A few tunes later, I get wild and play my favourite, Adele’s ‘Someone Like You’.

The bridge lights brighten. The keyboard seems to warm under my fingers. The notes come more easily, as if the organ is anticipating the tune.

Then theNautilusjoins in. She begins to play her own countermelodies. The song becomes even richer and sadder. I feel the submarine start to dive.

‘Whoa,’ says Lee-Ann. ‘Depth now forty metres … fifty. Is it supposed to be doing this?’

My ears ring. The hull creaks, but I don’t stop the song.

I have a feeling that theNautilusand I are really talking for the first time. She’s sharing her grief … Maybe apologizing for what happened to my parents. We’ve both lost so many people.

When the song finally ends, my face is wet with tears.

At the helm, Halimah exhales. ‘We’ve levelled off at one hundred metres. Captain, I think theNautiluslikes Adele a little too much.’

A shadow falls across the keyboard. I wonder how long Gem has been standing next to me. ‘That was amazing, Ana. You keep surprising me.’

He offers me a linen handkerchief. Where didthatcome from? I wonder if he always keeps it handy, which seems like a very old-fashionedGemsort of thing to do. Or maybe he just uses it to clean his gun barrels.

A few days ago, if he’d offered me a hankie, I would’ve laughed at him. Now, I take it and dab my eyes, grateful that my back is turned to the rest of the bridge crew. ‘Thanks.’

He nods. ‘It’s okay to be emotional.’

I sniffle. Why is he being nice to me? And why is it only making me feel worse?

‘I –’ I get to my feet shakily, then set the handkerchief across the keyboard. ‘I’ll be in my quarters.’

Ester finds me there an hour later. I suspect she’s allowed me that much time to pull myself back together after my emotional-wreckage mini concert.

Top jumps onto my bed. He knows the drill. When Ana plays sad music, the only remedy is dog-cuddling.

‘That must have been hard,’ Ester tells me, picking at her thumb. ‘But it was important.’

I nod glumly, though I’m not sure I understand her meaning. ‘TheNautilusand I were communicating, I think.’

‘Mm.’ Ester crosses to the far side of the stateroom. She presses her hand against the wall as if checking for hot spots. ‘It was more than talking. TheNautilusheals better when you play.’

‘Heals. Like … physically?’

Ester tilts her head. ‘Maybe that’s the wrong word. But the pipe organ wasn’t just made for show. The music –’

‘It’s a programming language,’ I realize.

Why didn’t I see that sooner? I’m a Dolphin, specializing in languages. Yet I’ve completely missed the connection between language, music and AI. Every time I play, I’m teaching theNautilusnew cognitive pathways, altering her operating system based on my input. Dread sinks into my gut like a bowling ball. ‘Have I messed up?’

Ester considers this question long enough to make me really worried.