The bosun looked up from his work. “Quit that skylarking!”
“Sorry, sir!” Deryn pulled at Alek’s harness. “Come on, you dafty. Sit down!”
Alek stopped laughing, dropping to one knee. He pointed ahead. “Is that what I think it is?”
Deryn turned to face the wind. The Leviathan’s nose was tipping down a bit, and the great hill of the whale’s hump seemed to descend before them, revealing the sky ahead.
“Mr. Rigby!” Deryn called, pointing at the bow. “You should see this, sir.”
A moment later the bosun swore, and Hoffman let out a low whistle. Ahead of the airship was a towering mass of thunderclouds, framed by a dark wall that stretched across the horizon. It was a huge storm, right in the Leviathan’s path.
“THE COMING STORM.”
Deryn caught the scent of rain and felt lightning in the air. “What should we do, Mr. Rigby?”
“We finish this job, lad, unless we get new orders.”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but there’s no way they’d send a message lizard up. Even a hydrogen sniffer would be blown off at this speed!”
“The captain can always send up a team of riggers, if he wants.” The bosun pointed at the second spool of wire, still full. “In any case we can’t stop now, or we’ll hit that storm with loose wire flying about!”
Deryn swallowed. “Aye, of course, sir.”
Hoffman finished off the splice, and the four of them headed toward the tail again. Crawling along the spine was even trickier now. The wind was shifting unpredictably, the currents of the storm mixing with the airflow of the ship’s great speed.
Deryn felt the membrane moving beneath her, rolling to one side. She glanced over her shoulder at the bow.
“We’re turning, sir,” she said. “Angling to starboard.”
Mr. Rigby swore, waving them on.
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Alek asked her. “They’re aiming to avoid the center of the storm.”
Deryn shook her head. “Hurricanes always spin anticlockwise, so we’re headed into a massive tailwind. We’re not missing the storm—we’re using it to move faster. A brilliant idea from Mr. Tesla, no doubt.”
“Is that dangerous?”
“The ship should be fine. It’s us I’m worried about.” Deryn snapped her safety clip down with a vengeance. “If they’d just slow down a bit, we could get this barking job done!”
“Settle yourself, Mr. Sharp,” came the bosun’s grumble. “We have our orders, and the captain has his.”
“Aye, sir,” Deryn said, then set herself to crawling as fast as she could.
Having a boffin in charge was getting to be annoying.
They were still out in the open when the airship hit the storm. The rain didn’t build gradually but arrived in a silvery wall hurtling down the Leviathan’s length at sixty miles an hour.
“Take hold!” Deryn cried as the chattering tumult surrounded them. The membrane rippled beneath her, stirred by the wave of cold air that came with the rain, no doubt pulled down from the northern Pacific by the great spinning engine of the storm. Suddenly the driving wind seemed full of ice and nails, the freezing drops hitting her goggles like tiny stones.
“Don’t anyone move!” Mr. Rigby shouted. “The captain should slow down for us now!”
Deryn clung to the ratlines with both hands, gritting her teeth, and it was only moments later that the roar of the Clanker engines went silent.
“Aye, I didn’t think the officers had gone mad,” the bosun muttered. He rose slowly, holding his side where he’d been shot two months before. A wave of fresh annoyance swept through Deryn. It was all very well for Tesla to send men up topside at full-ahead, when he was safe and sipping brandy in his cabin!
With the engines off, the airship quickly matched the speed of the wind, and a strange calm settled around the four of them. They headed for the steering house at a jog, the membrane slick with rain beneath their feet. Deryn kept one eye on Mr. Rigby, ready to grab him if he slipped. But the old man was as surefooted as always, and soon they were crowding into the dorsal steering house, the aft-most shelter on the ship.
“Get that wire secure,” Mr. Rigby ordered.
Alek translated for Hoffman, who set to work. The bosun plunked down heavily on a box of spare engine parts, and Deryn pulld off her gloves and rubbed her hands together, then whistled for glowworm light.
The dorsal steering house wasn’t luxurious. It was full of parts for tending the ship’s rear engines, and had its own master wheel if the bridge somehow lost rudder control. Thankfully it was connected by passageways to the airbeast’s gut, so a squick of warmth rose from an open hatchway in the floor.
Once the wire was tied fast, Hoffman said a few words to Alek, then descended into the airship, unspooling still more wire behind him.
“Where’s he off to?” Deryn asked Alek.
“Mr. Tesla wants the antenna to run down through the ship, all the way to his laboratory.”
“Aye, anything to keep him dry,” Deryn muttered. She wondered exactly what the Clanker boffin was up to. Back in Tokyo he’d proven he could send radio waves around the world. What more could he do from up here in the sky?
The bosun still wore a pained expression, so the three waited a few minutes before moving on. Every gust of wind made the steering house shudder, the rain-spattered windows rattling in their frames. Deryn felt the floor shifting beneath her. The airbeast was flexing its body, turning its face away from the force of the storm. This close to the tail, it was easy to feel the giant body shift, like being at the end of a vast, slow whip.
The ratlines creaked around them, and an unfamiliar metal groan came through the sounds of wind and rain. The wire leading out into the storm went taut beside Deryn, then shuddered and fell slack.
“Blast it,” the bosun sighed. “That wire must have been too short.”
“But Mr. Tesla’s measurements were quite precise!” Alek said.
“Aye, of course they were.” Deryn shook her head. “Too precise. He was thinking of the Leviathan as a zeppelin, a dead thing, rigid from bow to stern. But an airbeast bends, and more than usual in this barking storm.”
Alek stood up, looking out. “Perhaps someone might have mentioned that to him!”
“Your Mr. Tesla never bothered to ask,” the bosun said flatly. “But repairs will have to wait. They’ll be starting the engines up again soon.”
Alek looked as though he were going to argue, but Deryn put a hand on his shoulder.
“They’re idle for now, Mr. Rigby.” She stepped to the windows, shielding her eyes with her hands. “And the break might be close by.”
The bosun snorted. “All right. Pop out and take a look.”
Deryn opened the door a bit and squeezed out onto the blustery expanse of the topside. A moment later something caught her eye. At least five hundred feet away, near the base of the hump, a glimmer of silver danced in the rain.
“One end of the wire’s got loose, sir,” she called over her shoulder. “Maybe twenty yards of it. And it’sflailing about in the wind!”
Mr. Rigby got to his feet and joined her at the door, then swore.
“When the engines come back, that’ll get a bit lively! Could even cut into the membrane!” He crossed to the gut hatchway. “I’m afraid you’ve got to go back out, lad, and secure both loose ends. I’ll find a message lizard and tell the bridge to hold the engines still for a bit longer.”
“Aye, sir.” Deryn pulled her gloves back on.
The bosun paused halfway down into the hatch. “Wait a few minutes to make sure they’ve got the message, then get it done fast. Whatever happens, I don’t want you out there at full-ahead!”
The bosun dropped away, and Deryn began to search the parts drawers. All she needed was some pliers and a short length of wire.
“I’m going with you,” Alek said.
She started to say no. The bosun hadn’t given orders one way or the other, and she could handle
the job herself. But if Mr. Rigby’s message arrived too late and the ship went to top speed again, anyone alone out there could be swept away into the sea.
Besides, who knew what Alek would get up to if she left him here alone?
“I’m not afraid,” he added.
“You should be,” Deryn said. “But you’re right, it’s better if we stick together. Hand me that rope.”
“Ready?” Deryn asked.
“I suppose so.” Alek looked down at the rope tied to his flight suit’s harness. He wondered what Count Volger would say about him being bound to a common girl. Probably something unpleasant.
But it was certainly better than letting a friend go out there on her own.
Deryn opened the hatchway, and a rush of cold air sent a fresh chill through Alek’s sodden flight suit. As he followed her out into the rain, the five meters of rope between them grew heavy with water.
“If the engines start up, drop flat and hold on to the ratlines,” Deryn said.
Alek didn’t argue. The few moments of downpour at full-ahead had been convincing enough.
He followed Deryn toward the bow, keeping to the middle of the spine, his hands out for balance. Down below, the ocean’s surface was in furious motion, the wind tearing whitecaps off the waves like they were plumes of steam.
“ ‘Pacific’ means ‘peaceful,’” he said. “So far, this ocean isn’t living up to its name.”
“Aye, and believe me, it’s much worse down there than it looks. We’ve matched the speed of the wind, so all we’re feeling is the odd gust.”
Alek nodded. The sky was dark, the rain still falling, and he could smell a deadly hint of lightningBut the air was eerily calm. It was like being in the placid eye of a storm, with its energies boiling all around them, waiting to be unleashed.
“Then, why’s that loose wire blowing about?
Deryn’s hand described an arc in the air. “The hump always has an untidy bit of airflow behind it when the ship’s free-ballooning, ever since the earliest airbeasts were fabricated. The boffins have never been able to fix it.”
“You mean Darwinism has its flaws?”
“So has nature. Ever seen a red-footed booby try to land?”
Alek frowned. “I’m afraid I have no knowledge of red-footed boobies.”
“Well, I’ve never actually seen one myself. But everybody says they’re barking hilarious!”
They were drawing near the airbeast’s hump, and Alek felt the air growing restive around them. The loose section of antenna looked like a glint of silver dancing on the ratlines.
“Step carefully here,” Deryn called.
With every meter the troubled airflow grew worse, driving the rain into a blur against Alek’s goggles. But he didn’t dare take them off. The loose wire was flailing like the tentacle of some dying creature, and he didn’t fancy leaving his eyes unprotected.
Deryn came to a halt. “Do you hear that?”
Alek listened. Above the chattering of rain he heard a distant thrum.
“The rear motivator engines?”
“Aye, on low speed.” She shook her head. “Just a bit of steering, let’s hope. Come on!”
She jogged toward the flailing wire, dragging Alek by his harness. The wind shifted every few seconds now, sending the falling rain into a dozen little whirlwinds. The wire skittered away as Deryn made a jump for it, but Alek managed to plant a boot down to bring its thrashing to a halt.
Deryn reached into her tool bag. “I’m going to splice another ten yards on to the antenna. That should be loose enough to keep it from snapping again. Go find the other end of the break.”
“I can’t go anywhere, Deryn. We’re tied together, remember?”
She looked down at the rope. “Ah, right. Best to keep it that way, though.”
Alek didn’t argue. If Mr. Rigby hadn’t got word to the officers, the engines could come back on at any time. Deryn worked swiftly with the pliers, her hands as sure as they were with knots and cable. Alek noticed how rough they were. Of course, any sailor’s hands were calloused and scarred, but now that he knew she was a girl . . .
He shook the thought out of his head. At times like this it was best just to think of her as a boy. Anything else was too confusing.
“Done,” she said. “Let’s go find the other loose end.” As Alek rose to his feet, a chill went through his wet fligh suit.
“Has the wind gotten stronger?”
Deryn cocked her head to listen. “Aye, the rear engines are running a bit faster.”
“And we’re losing altitude.” Below, the towering waves were clearly visible now, their whitecaps glowing against the dark water.
“Blisters, we might be in trouble.” Deryn knelt again, putting one finger into the water building on the airship’s surface. “Almost half an inch already!”
“Of course. It’s raining.”
Her eyes closed. “Just let me remember my sums. Every inch of water spread across the membrane adds . . . eight tons to the ship’s weight.”
Alek opened his mouth, but it took a moment to speak. “Eight tons?”
“Aye. Barking heavy stuff, water.” She started down the spine toward the tail, letting out the added length of wire behind her. “Come on. Let’s find the other end and get this job done!”
Alek dumbly followed, his gaze traveling down the endless length of the ship. The Leviathan’s topside was huge, of course, so of course a thin layer of water would add up to thousands of liters. And though water was running down the sloped sides and off the ship, the rain was constantly adding more to replace it.
“They’ll have dropped all the ballast by now,” Deryn said. “But I reckon the weight’s still building. That’s why we’re losing altitude.”
Alek’s eyes went wide. “You mean this ship can’t fly in the rain without crashing?”
“Don’t be daft. We can still use aerodynamic lift, but that’s what I’m worried about. There it is!”
She knelt and picked up a loose end of wire tangled in the ratlines, the other end of the break. Her fingers worked quickly, splicing it together with the added length.
Alek stood close, sheltering her from the rain. “Aerodynamic lift? Like when we took off in the Alps and had to fly for a bit to get off the ground?”
“Right. The Leviathan is like a big wing. The faster we go, the more lift we generate. Done!” She stretched the wire between her hands once, snapping it hard—the new splice held.
“So when it rains, your ship has to keep moving to stay aloft.” Alek looked down at the ocean. The waves were building in strength, the tallest of them almost reaching the bottom of the ship. “Aren’t we getting a bit close to the water?”
“Aye,” Deryn said. “The captain’s been waiting as long as he can. But I doubt we have much . . .”
Her words faded as the Clanker engines roared to life. Deryn swore, then stood there for a moment listening.
“What do you Alek? Quarter speed?”
He knelt to press his palm against the membrane. “I’d say half.”
“Blisters. We’ll never make it back to the wheelhouse before the wind gets too strong to walk.” She looked around. “Might as well stay here, where the ship’s wider. It’ll be harder to fall off.”
Alek glanced down at the roiling black sea. “Very sensible.”
“But we need to get out of the flooding channel.”
“The what?”
“You’ll see.” Deryn started jogging toward the stern.
Alek hurried to catch up. The ship’s speed was building fast, the wind at his back pushing him harder and harder. The rain felt like cold needles now, and the view through his goggles was a blur.
He slowed down to wipe them, forgetting the rope stretched between him and Deryn. It yanked tight, and Alek’s boots skidded on the wet surface of the spine. He landed badly, the air driven from his lungs, his head cracking hard. With the blow echoing in his ears, Alek realized that he was still moving, sliding alo
ng in the flow of rainwater. He clawed at the ratlines, but his cold fingers wouldn’t close. For an awful moment the slope of the airbeast’s flank dropped away from beneath him.
Then the rope around his waist went taut again, snapping Alek to a halt. He lay there, uncertain of up and down, his heart pounding.
A voice was in his ear. “This is no use! Clip yourself!”
Alek nodded, feeling blindly for his safety clip. He snapped it onto the grid of ropes beneath him, then sat up, his head spinning. Every second the engines roared louder, and as their power built, so did the driving power of the rain. His goggles were blurred, and his head still reeled from the impact of his fall.
“Sorry I fell.” Talking hurt his head.
“No worries. We’re far enough aft. Just wanted to stay out of that.”
Alek pulled his goggles off, following Dylan’s gaze. Pushed along by the airship’s passage, a channel of water was spilling down the backside of the hump, like a waterfall forming after a downpour.
“The flooding channel?”
Dylan laughed madly. “Aye, I’ve never seen it like that. And this is only three-quarter speed!”
Alek squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly uncertain how he’d gotten out here in this storm. It felt as if he’d just woken up to find himself magically transported from his bed out onto the topside.
“Blisters, Alek, you’re bleeding!”
“I’m what?” He blinked. Dylan was staring at his forehead. Alek reached up to touch the painful spot, then looked at his fingers. They were stained by a thin, watery hint of blood.
“It’s nothing.”
“Are you dizzy?”
“Why would I be dizzy?” Alek reached up to pull his goggles off, but found them already in his hand. His vision stayed blurry, though, as if a layer of glass hovered between him and the world.
“Because you just cracked your head, you dafty!”
“I did what?” It was hard to think with the engines roaring like this.
“Barking spiders, Alek.” Dylan grasped both his hands, staring straight into his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I’m cold.” All the heat in his body was trickling out into the storm, the strength in his limbs carried away by the cold water rushing past. Alek wanted to stand up, but the wind was too strong.
Goliath Page 15