Submarine Academy

My mother helped me pack my luggage. Good thing it wasn't a big trunk or it would've been too heavy for us to carry out to the minivan.

“But why does it have to be a boarding school?” I asked. “Why can't I just stay here at home and go to the public high school? Wouldn't it be cheaper?”

“Your father and I went to a boarding school, Shui,” my mother said. “The same one you're going to. The Cousteau Society Boarding School.”

“You both did?” I asked.

She nodded. “And it was a good experience. We made friends and learned things that we probably wouldn't have learned otherwise. It was also where we first met. So, you see, it's not like your father and I are punishing you. We want to give you the same chance we had, and we can afford it. We saved up since you were born.” She handed me a brochure. “It's been expanded a little since we went there.”

I looked at the brochure. The photos had to be either photo-realistic paintings or photoshopped using Adobe Photoshop. No way the school could look like this. It was like a collection of large pale blue bubbles connected by narrow corridors. The fish on the outside were probably plastic, like vintage pink flamingo lawn ornaments. It had to be a joke. It must look like something else entirely.

“But I can still come back home for Christmas and each Summer?” I asked.

“Of course, you can,” she said. “Though you might find that you'd rather stay there. If you do, when the time comes, we can just ship your birthday and Christmas presents to you.”

I nodded, not entirely comforted. I was fifteen and had never lived away from home before. Time to learn what it was like.

“You can write us or email us whenever you like,” my mother went on. “And we'll read each letter or message and reply as soon as we can.”

“Can I call you?” I asked.

“I'm not sure that they allow cell phones at that school,” my mother said. “They're rather strict about unnecessary distractions. Not that you'll get bored. Trust me, you'll have plenty of things to do.”

Life without a cell phone? What sort of school was this? I just knew I was going to regret agreeing to go there. Maybe I could get myself expelled and have to come back home and go to the public high school instead. But my parents probably wouldn't be pleased if I wasted all their hard-earned money.

I sighed.

“It's going to be just fine,” my mother said. “Just you wait and see. Give yourself a week or two and you'll probably want to be there more than here.”

“Maybe,” I said.

She smiled encouragingly. “Tell you what: If it turns out we're wrong, we'll treat you to an all-expenses-paid trip around the world. You choose all the places you want to visit. Deal?” She held out her hand.

My eyes widened. “You mean it?”

“Deal or no deal?” she asked.

I smiled, knowing I would win. “Deal.” And shook her hand. “I'll hold you to it.”

“We won't back out of it,” she said.

“You'd better not,” I said.

We finished loading the trunk and carried it downstairs and outside. My father got in the driver's side of the minivan. My mother sat on the passenger's side, while I sat on the first bench seat behind them.

“Ready, Shui?” my father asked.

I nodded. “Ready.”

Since the nearest transport pickup place was several hours away, my parents spent part of the time explaining what the boarding school was like. It sounded too good to be true, and probably was. Any school that made learning actually fun, interesting, and enjoyable didn't exist. We'd probably go to a beach and then they'd tell me it was all a prank. We'd spend the day there and then go back home.

Except we didn't go to any beach. Instead we went to what looked like a marina, filled with boats that were moored offshore as well as tied up to various wooden piers. There was a small group of people already waiting, with their luggage next to them. They turned to see us pull up and unload.

“You won't even have to go there alone, Shui,” my mother said. “You'll have company.”

Just as delusional as you both are. Wonderful.

We went down to the group, introduced ourselves. Apparently the transport was on its way and should be arriving soon. My parents nudged me and I introduced myself. The other students introduced themselves. My parents gave me a hug, gave me some more encouragement, and then headed back to the minivan.

As they drove away, a large area of bubbles quickly rose to the surface of the water. In the middle, where most of the bubbles were, was what looked like a houseboat on large wooden skids. It was painted all in white, with a reclining green naked woman painted next to the bridge area. On the front and on either side of it were the words “Cousteau Society Boarding School”. The houseboat approached us and then came to a stop against the dock, perpendicular to us. The crew disembarked, throwing heavy ropes onto large mushroom-shaped posts on the dock.

“Everyone ready to board?” one of the crew asked us.

We nodded.

The crewmember took out an iPad and checked off everyone's name. One person hadn't come. They probably were running late and, the crewmember said. In which case, they could just travel in the transport when it returned here in about twelve hours. The crew helped us board and placed our luggage in the rear of the transport.

“All aboard?” a woman's voice called over an onboard P.A. system.

“Yes, ma'am!” one of the crew called back.

“Remove the docking ropes!” the woman's voice said.

“Removed, ma'am!” one of the crew said.

“Departing immediately, then,” the woman's voice said. “Batten down the hatches and find somewhere to sit. It's going to take a bit to get to the school. Enjoy the ride.”

The transport moved away from the dock, riding lower and lower in the water as it did so. We were soon underwater, moving faster than I expected, leaving a long trail of bubbles behind us.

I found a seat near the left rear of the transport and looked out the window. One of the crew, a woman, came over and sat nearby. She also looked outside.

“It's always a little difficult adjusting,” she told me. “Most people think that schools should only be on dry land. Thankfully the Cousteau Society disagrees.”

“Is this the only one that they've built and run?” I asked.

She shook her head. “There are a few others. More are being built and transported to their permanent locations around the world. Where did you think this school would be?”

“To be honest,” I admitted, “I originally thought this was all a joke. I'm sorry I didn't believe it was for real until this transport actually submerged.”

“You probably aren't the first to think that,” she said. “It's like the Flat Earth Society. You tell them something exists and they just won't believe you. Sometimes even after you show them they still won't believe you. As if we'd lie to them.” She rolled her eyes.

“My name's Shui,” I said, holding out my hand.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, shaking my hand. “I'm Marie.”

“Have you always worked for the school?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Like you, I was a student first. But after I graduated, I decided to stay and work.”

“Did you believe the school existed at first?” I asked.

“Sort of,” she said. “I grew up watching 'The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau' and reading '20,000 Leagues Under the Sea'. I was aware that there was ongoing discussion among scientists and engineers about possibly building underwater bases and cities. The bases did eventually get built, but not the cities. Then someone wondered about underwater schools. Designing them was easy, but finding materials and sealants that would remain intact in salt water was more difficult.”

“How do you know all that?” I asked.

“Because my father was one of the designers,” she said.

“Is that when you decided you wanted to go to the school?” I asked.

Marie nodded. “When you don't fit in that well in dry land schools, it's a relief to find somewhere that you do fit in. Even if it's underwater.”

“I know the feeling,” I said.

“My father nominated me,” she went on. “Next thing I knew I was accepted and on my way there. The first group of students probably suffered the most. Being underwater can be a little claustrophobic. It takes time to get used to it. Some students didn't get used to it and started going a little stir crazy. They had to be transported back to land and replaced with other students.”

“Did you go stir crazy?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I liked it underwater. Seeing all the underwater life. The coral reef near the school – it's even bigger than the Great Barrier Reef off of Australia's east coast – was awe-inspiring. Much taller than I expected, and much wider. It must've taken a million years for enough polyps to die and build it.”

I whistled softly.

“Exactly,” Marie said. “Somehow it survived the bleaching that killed off so many other reefs around the world. We didn't understand how that was possible at first. But we've learned a little in the years since then. Apparently the polyps that died and built up this reef were different from the other dead polyps around the world. Some sort of mutation, which means we don't know how it happened, we just know it's for real. We think it might be possible to graft parts of this reef onto the other reefs and help them recover.”

While we spoke, the transport descended deeper into the ocean, passing from lighter, sunlit layers to darker layers. The headlights on the front of the transport turned on, sending beams into the growing darkness. Like traveling at night on dry land. Only here we seemed to be entering an undersea canyon at least as big as the Grand Canyon, if not bigger. Every so often we could see clusters of deep sea vents that looked like smoking chimneys and glowing deep sea life.

“How do you provide energy for the school, since you're so far from the surface?” I asked.

“Hydroelectric power,” Marie said. “Similar to how electricity is made at hydroelectric dams on dry land. The currents down here are strong enough that we can guide them through the machinery we have and create electricity.” In fact, I could feel the transport trying to keep its speed constant while battling against the pull of the current we were in. “Far more electricity than we'd ever need. We store the extra electricity in storage batteries. That way if we lose power, we have backup power ready and waiting.”

“You know so much,” I said. “You can't just be a crewmember on this transport.”

“Correct,” she said. “I'm also one of the crew that works at the hydroelectric power generators. It keeps me busy, so boredom is rarely an issue.”

We passed through about half of the undersea canyon, turned left and followed another canyon. Up ahead, I could see the dim lights of something standing a few hundred feet from the rim of the canyon. The dim lights grew brighter as we came closer. It looked just like the photos in the brochure that my mother had given me at home. I stared at it, not sure I believed what I was seeing.

Marie chuckled. “Same thing happened to me. It just doesn't look real. But it's real all right. We'll be docking at the air-lock in a few minutes, Shui. I need to assist with the docking.”

I nodded, not taking my eyes from the growing size of the boarding school. It wasn't gigantic, but it was definitely big. As big as the Louvre in Paris, or St. Peter's Basilica in Rome, or maybe the Houses of Parliament in London.

The transport turned to the right and gently pushed itself closer and closer to the air-lock.

“Arrival in less than one minute,” the woman's voice said on the P.A. system. “Meet at the forward doorway. Crew will help you disembark and match you with your luggage. Welcome to Cousteau Society Boarding School.”

I joined the other students at the forward doorway. We could all feel the bump as the transport made contact and came to a stop. The doorway slid open. We left the transport and entered a waiting area. Our luggage was already being unloaded.

I looked around for Marie, the one familiar face in all this. I couldn't see her. She might've gone back inside the transport.

One of the school faculty came over to me. The name on the name tag on her upper right chest said: Chunkov. Her hair was short and grey. Her jumpsuit was light blue.

“Ms. Fong?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Orientation for new students is in five minutes,” she said. “Main lounge one floor up.”

“How do I get there?” I asked.

She showed me an iPad and tapped something on it. A map appeared. As it did so, a green line, like an argon laser beam, came out of the iPad's screen and pointed toward a set of stairs on the far end of the lounge. She handed the iPad to me.

“It'll show you the way,” Ms. Chunkov said. “When you arrive at the lounge, just hand the tablet computer to one of the staff.”

I nodded. “Thank you, ma'am.”

“Better get going,” she advised. “It's not exactly next door.”

I nodded again, and, with trunk in tow, followed the green path to my next destination.

When I arrived at the lounge, most of the other students were already there. The rest arrived soon after I did. We handed our iPads to staff members who thanked us with a nod.

On a stage at one end of the lounge was an old-fashioned rostrum. A tall, green-skinned man stood there. He didn't seem to be dressed. Maybe the green “skin” was actually his uniform?

He coughed loudly for attention. “If I may have your attention, please?”

We sat silently in our chairs, looking at him.

“Thank you,” he said. “I am Grun Mer Vas. Welcome to the Cousteau Society Boarding School. It is sometimes also called the Submarine Academy. Not all of us here are human, however. Such as myself.” He showed us his heavily webbed fingers and toes. Kind of like a cross between a human and a frog. “I am a submaru. Amphibious humanoid. You will see, meet, and study with others like myself. There also some that are called mermen and mermaids.”

One of the students raised their hand.

“Yes?” Grun said patiently.

“Is there going to be any genetic manipulation, in case we spend most of our time outside the school?” the student asked.

“Unless you plan on drowning, you will have to undergo such a procedure,” he said. “I did. After all, my species did not come into being via evolution. But such a decision is always voluntary. You are free to choose other jobs that do not require any change to your bodies. Any further questions?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“Excellent,” Grun said. “You will note that your luggage will be brought to your dorms during this Orientation. They will not be opened, but merely scanned for safety reasons. Anything not permitted will be destroyed by remote. You are here to learn, not to cause trouble. Adjusting to life on the ocean floor is a gradual process. For some, the process takes place in a few days. For others, it may take as long as a week or two. Any symptoms of claustrophobia will be dealt with as humanely as possible.”

I raised my hand.

“Yes?” Grun said patiently.

“What about holidays and Summers?” I asked. “Are we required to spend them here, or are we allowed to spend them at home before returning here?”

“You may spend them as you wish,” he said. “Though you may find it far more interesting to remain here. The choice is yours. We will assist you in whatever way we can. Any further questions?”

I shook my head.

“Is any further clarification necessary?” Grun asked all of us.

We all shook our heads.

“Classes begin tomorrow at 0700 local time,” he said. “Breakfast is served here in the lounge and in the main dining room from 0500 to 0630 each day. Lunch is 1100 to 1300. And dinner is 1800 to 2000. There is one free day per week.” He paused. “One warning, however: Dorms are strictly segregated by gender. You are not to enter any dorms that your gender is forbidden to be in. Gathering elsewhere, including in this lounge, is permitted, however. You are dismissed to your respective dorms.”

With that, we all stood up.

“My parents said they were strict,” a student near me said. He was human like me, and roughly my age. “They weren't kidding.”

“What happens if we disobey the segregated dorm rule?” I wondered. “Expulsion?”

He nodded. “Probably. Timku.”

“Shui,” I said.

“Nice meeting you,” he said.

“Likewise,” I said. “See you after we get set up in our dorms?”

He nodded. “Meet you back here in the lounge.”

“See you then,” I said.