“I’ve sent the signal,” Aquila says, and indeed, one of two lights on the console burns a bright blue to indicate that she has. “Time to get in the tubes.”
“Time to find out if I’m debilitatingly claustrophobic, you mean,” the Mayor says, sitting down in her tube.
“I’ve always liked a hatch,” Avi says, already laid down in his tube.
The second light now also burns a bright blue. “Signal returned. 60. 59. 58.”
Three torpedo-submarines are shot out of the Lighthouse’s basement and into the deep dark blue.