Music Welcome to snoozecast. The podcast is designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com and if you enjoy our show, please share it with a friend. This episode is brought to you by The Deep Khan. Tonight we'll read the next part to 20,000 leaks under the sea, a classic science fiction adventure novel by French writer Jules Fern. In the previous episode, the Nautilus continues its journey past Newfoundland, Ireland, and England, but avoids the English Channel. Arenac spots an abandoned electrical cable on the floor, once meant to transmit telegrams, symbolizing the power of nature over humanity's greatest achievements.

Then, Aeronax sees a distant steamship and Captain Nemo cryptically remarks, it is here. As the submarine descends, they discover the rack of the Marseilles, later renamed the Avenger, a ship from 1762, which Nemo praises for its powerful name. We will pick up within chapter 21. Let's get cozy. Closureize, relax your body into the softness of your bed.

Now, take a few deep breaths. Captain Nimo was terrible to hear. He was still more terrible to see. His face was pale, with a spasm at his heart. For an instant, it must have ceased to beat. His pupils were contracted. He did not speak, he roared, as with his body thrown forward, he wrung the Canadian shoulders. Then, leaving him, and turning to the ship of war, who shot was still raining around him. He exclaimed with a powerful voice. Ah, ship of an accursed nation. You know who I am. I do not want your colors to know you by. Look, and I will show you mine. And on the four part of the platform, Captain Nemo unfurled the black flag, similar to the one he had placed at the South Pole. At that moment, a shot struck the shell of the Nautilus obliquely, without piercing it, and rebounding near the captain was lost in the sea. He shrugged his shoulders, and, addressing me, said shortly, go down, you and your companions go down. Sir, I cried. Are you going to attack this vessel? Sir, I am going to sink it. You will not do that. I shall do it." He replied coldly. And I advise you not to judge me, sir. Fate has shown you what you ought not to have seen. This has begun. Go down. What is this vessel?

You do not know very well, so much the better. Its nationality to you at least will be a secret. Go down. We could but obey. About 15 of the sailors surrounded the captain, looking implacably at the vessel nearing them. One could feel that the same desire animated every soul. I went down at the moment, another projectile struck the nautilus, and I heard the captain exclaim, Strike Mad Vessel. Shower your useless shot.

And then you will not escape the spur of the Nautilus, but it is not here that you shall perish. I would not have your ruins mingle with those of the Avenger." I reached my room. The captain, and his second ad remained on the platform. The screw was set in motion, and the nautilus. Moving with speed was soon beyond the reach of the ship's guns, but the pursuit continued, Captain Nemo contented himself with keeping his distance. About four in the afternoon, being no longer able to contain my impatience, I went to the central staircase. The panel was open, and I ventured on to the platform. The captain was still walking up and down with an agitated step. He was looking at the ship, which was five or six miles to Leeward. He was going round it like a wild beast, and drawing it eastward, he allowed them to pursue, but he did not strike. Perhaps he still hesitated. I wished to meditate once more, but I had scarcely spoken when Captain Nemo imposed a silence, saying, I am the law, and I am the judge. I am the oppressed, and there is the oppressor. Through him I have lost all that I

loved, cherished and venerated. Country, wife, children, father, and mother. Say no more.

I cast last look at the man of war, which was putting on steam and rejoined Ned and Konsei. "'We will fly,' I exclaimed. "'Good,' said Ned. What is this vessel?' "'I do not know, but whatever it is, it will be sunk before night. In any case, it is better to perish with it than be made accomplices in a retaliation the justice of which we cannot judge. That is my opinion too, so Ned Land, cooly. Let us wait for night. Night arrived. Deep silence rained on board. The compass showed that the nautilus had not altered its course. It was on the surface, rolling slightly. My companions and I resolved to fly when the vessel should be near enough either to hear us, or to see us for the moon, which would be full in two or three days. Once onboard the ship, if we could not prevent the blow which threatened it, we could, at least we would, do all that circumstances would allow. Several times I thought the

non-lis was preparing to strike again, but Captain Nemo contended himself with allowing his adversary to approach and then fled once more before it. Part of the night passed without any incident. We watched the opportunity for action. We spoke little, for we were not too much moved. That land would have thrown himself into the sea, but I forced him to wait. According to my idea, the notalless would strike the ship at her waterline, and then it would not only be possible, but easy to fly. At three in the morning, full of uneasiness, I mounted the platform. Captain Nemo had not left it. He was standing at the four-part near his flag, which a slight breeze displayed above his head. He did not take his eyes from the vessel. The intensity of his look seemed to attract and fascinate and draw an onward more surely than if it had been towing it. The moon was then passing the meridian. Jupiter was rising in the east. Amid this peaceful scene of nature, sky and ocean rivaled each other in tranquility. The sea offering to the orbs of night, the finest mirror they could ever have in which to reflect their image. As I thought of the deep calm of these elements, I compared with all those passions brooding imperceptibly within the nautilus. I shuttered. The vessel was within two miles of us. It was ever nearing the phosphorescent light, which showed the presence of the nontalus. I could see its green and red lights, and its white lantern hanging from the large foremasth, an indistinct vibration quivered through its raking, showing that the furnaces were heated to the utter most. Sheaves of sparks, and red ashes flew from the funnels, shining in the atmosphere, like stars. I remained thus until six in the morning, without Captain Nemo noticing me. The ship stood about a mile and a half from us, and with the first dawn of day, the firing began afresh. The moment could not be far off when the Nautilus striking its adversary, my companions and myself, should forever leave this man. I was preparing to go down to remind them when the second mounted the platform, accompanied by several sailors. Captain Nemo either did not or would not see them.. Some steps were taken which might be called the signal for action. They were very simple. The iron around the platform was lowered, and the lantern and pilot cages were pushed within the shell until they were flush with the deck. The long surface of the steel cigar no longer offered a single point to check its maneuvers. I returned to the saloon. The not-aless still floated, some streaks of light refiltoring through the liquid beds. With the undulations of the waves, the windows were brightened by the red streaks of the rising sun, and this dreadful day of the second of June had dawned. 5 o'clock. The log showed that the speed of the notallists was slackening, and I knew that it was allowing them to draw nearer. Besides, the reports were heard more distinctly, and the projectiles laboring through the ambient, were extinguished with a strange hissing noise. My friends said, I, the moment is come, one grasp of the hand, and may God protect us. land was resolute. Conce, calm,

wuss. and may God protect us. That land was resolute. Conce, calm. Myself, so nervous that I knew not how to contain myself. We all passed into the library. But the moment I pushed the door opening on the central staircase, I heard the upper panel close sharply. The Canadian rushed on to the stairs, but I stopped him. A well-known hissing noise told me that the water was running into the reservoirs, and in a few minutes the non-alus was some yards beneath the surface of the waves. I understood the maneuver. It was too late to act. The ship did not wish to strike at the impenetrable curisbe but below the waterline where the metallic covering no longer protected it. We were again imprisoned on willing witnesses of the dreadful drama that was preparing. We had scarcely time to reflect, taking refuge in my room. We looked at each other without speaking. A deep stupor had taken hold of my mind. Thought seemed to stand still. I was in that state of expectation, proceeding a dreadful report. I waited. I listened. Every sense was merged in that of hearing. The speed of the Nautilus was accelerated. It was preparing to rush. The whole ship trembled. I felt the shock, but comparatively light. I felt the penetrating power of the steel spur. I heard rattling and scraping, but the nautilus carried along by its propelling power passed through the mass of the vessel like a needle through sailcloth. I could stand it no longer. Mad, out of my mind, I rushed from my room into the saloon. Captain Nemo was there, mute, and gloomy. He was looking through the port panel. A large mass cast a shadow on the water, and that it might lose nothing of her agony. The nautil was going down into the abyss with her. Ten yards from me, I saw the open shell through, which the water was rushing with the noise of thunder, than the double line of guns and the netting. The bridge was covered with black agitated shadows.

The water was rising. Paralyzed my hair standing on in with eyes wide open, panting, without breath and without voice. I too was watching. And irresistible attraction glued me to the glass.

Suddenly an explosion took place. The compressed air blew up her decks as if the magazines had caught fire. Then the unfortunate vessels sank more rapidly. dark mass disappeared, drawn down by the strong eddy. I turned to Captain Nemo, that terrible avenger, a perfect archangel of hatred, was still looking When all was over, he turned to his room, opened the door and entered. I followed him with my eyes. On the end wall beneath his heroes, I saw the portrait of a woman, still young, and two little children, Captain Nemo looked at them for some moments, stretched his arms towards them, and kneeling down, burst into deep sobs. 22. The last words of Captain Nemo. The panels had closed on this dreadful vision, but light had not returned to the saloon. All was silence and darkness within the notalless. wonderful speed, a hundred feet beneath the water, it was leaving this desolate spot, where there was it going, to the north or south. Where was the man flying to after such dreadful retaliation. I had returned to my room. Were net and con say had remained silent enough. I felt an insurmountable horror for Captain Nemo. Whatever he had suffered at the hands of these men, he had no right to punish us. He had made me, if not an accomplice, at least a witness of his vengeance. At eleven, the electric light reappeared. I passed into the saloon. It was deserted. I consulted the different instruments. The nautilus was flying northward at the rate of 25 miles an hour, now on the surface, and now 30 feet below it. On taking the bearings by the chart, I saw that we were passing the mouth of the mench, and that our course was hurrying us towards the northern seas at a frightful speed. That night we had crossed two hundred leaks of the Atlantic. The shadow fell, and the sea was covered with darkness until the rising of the moon. I went to my room. From that day, who could tell, into which part of the North Atlantic Captain Nima would take us? Still with unaccountable speed, still in the midst of these northern fogs, would it touch at Spitzbergin, or on the shores of Nova Zembla, should we explore those unknown seas, the White Sea, the Sea of Kara, the Gulf of Oby, and the unknown coast of Asia? I could not say. I could no longer judge of the time that was passing. The clocks had been stopped on board. It seemed, as in polar countries, that night and day no longer followed the regular course. I felt myself being drawn into that strange region, with a founder to imagination of Edgar Poe roamed at will, like the fabulous Gordon-Pim. At every moment, I expected to see that veiled human figure of larger proportions than those of any inhabitant of the earth, thrown across the cataract which defends the approach to the pole. I estimate it, though perhaps I may be mistaken, I estimate it this adventurous course of the Nautilus to have lasted 15 or twenty days. And I know not how much longer it might have lasted. Had it not been for the catastrophe which ended this voyage. Of Captain Nemo I saw nothing whatever now, nor of his second. Not a man of the crew was visible for an instant. The nautilus was almost incessantly underwater. Then we came to the surface to renew the air. The panels opened and shut mechanically. There were no more marks on the planet sphere. I knew not where we were. the Canadian too, his strength and patience at an end appeared no more. Conceit could not draw a word from him, and fearing that in a dreadful fit of madness, watched him with constant devotion. One morning, what dated was I could not say. I had fallen into a heavy sleep towards the early hours. A sleep both painful and unhealthy. When I suddenly awoke, Ned Lian was leaning over me, saying in a low voice, we are going to fly. I sat up. When shall we go, I asked, tonight, all inspection on board the novelist seems to have ceased, All appear to be stupified. You will be ready, sir.

Yes, where are we? In sight of land, I took the reckoning this morning in the fog, twenty miles to the east. What country is it? I do not know, but, whatever it is, we will take refuge there. Yes, net, yes, we will fly tonight, even if the sea should swallow us up. The sea is bad, the wind violent, but twenty miles in that light boat of the not-alist does not frighten me. Unknown to the crew, I have been able to procure food and some bottles of water. I will follow you. But, continued the Canadian, if I am surprised, I will defend myself. We will defend each other, friend Ned. I had made up my mind to all. The Canadian left me. I reached the platform on which I could with difficulty support myself against the shock of the waves. The sky was threatening, but as land was in those thick brown shadows, we must fly. I returned to the saloon, fearing, and yet hoping to see Captain Nemo, wishing, yet not wishing to see him. What could I have said to him? Could I hide the involuntary horror with which he inspired me? No, it was better that I should not meet him face to face, better to forget him. And yet, how long seemed that day, the last that I should pass in the nautilus, arming the loan, that land and con say avoided speaking, for fear of betraying themselves. At six I dined, but I was not hungry. I forced myself to eat in spite of my disgust that I might not weaken myself. At half past six Nedland came to my room saying, We shall not see each other again before I departure. At ten the moon will not be risen, We will profit by the darkness, Come to the boat, Concei and I will wait for you. The Canadian went out without giving me time to answer. Wishing to verify the course of the Nautilus I went to the saloon. We were running north northeast at a frightful speed. And more than 50 yards deep, I cast a last look on these wonders nature, on the riches of art heaped up in this museum. Upon the unrivaled collection destined to perish at the bottom of the sea, with him who had formed it, I wished to fix an indelible impression of it in my mind. I remained an hour thus, bathed in the light of that luminous ceiling, and passing and review those treasures shining under their glasses. Then I returned to my room. I dressed myself in strong sea-clothing. I collected my notes, placing them carefully about me. My heart beat loudly. I could not check its pulsations. Certainly my trouble and agitation would have betrayed me to cap in Nemo's eyes. What was he doing at this moment? I listened at the door of his room. I heard steps. Captain Nemo was there. He had not gone to rest. At every moment I expected to see him appear and ask me why I wished to fly. I was constantly on the alert. My imagination magnified everything. The impression became at last so poignant that I asked myself if it would not be better to go to the captain's room, see him face to face, and to brave him with look and gesture. It was the inspiration of a madman. Fortunately, I resisted the desire, and stretched myself on my bed to quiet my bodily agitation. My nerves were somewhat calmer, but in my excited brain I saw over again all my existence on board the non-alus, every incident, either happy or unfortunate, which had happened since my disappearance from the Abraham Lincoln. The submarine hunt, the Torreus Straits, the running ashore, the coral cemetery, the passage of Suez, the island of Santorin, the Crean Diver, Vigo Bay, Atlantis, The Iceberg, The South Pole,

The imprisonment in the ice, The fight among the Polps,

The storm in the Gulf Stream, The Avenger,

And the scene of the vessel sunk. All these events passed before my eyes like scenes in a drama. Then Captain Nemo seemed to grow enormously. This features to assume superhuman proportions. He was no longer my equal, but a man of the waters, the genie

of the sea. Yn yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n yw'n y