Goliath l-3

by Scott Westerfeld

  A lizard popped its head from a message tube and spoke with the captain’s voice. “Ventral engine pod, help is on the way. Please report your status.”

  The two engineers looked at Deryn, perhaps a bit nervous that they’d just sent the whole ship plummeting toward the sea.

  She cleared her throat. “Middy Sharp, sir, just arrived here from the rookery. The pod was set aflame, so the engineers called for a Herculean. The fire’s out, but by the looks of things, we won’t be giving you any power for a while. End message.”

  The lizard blinked, then scampered away. Deryn turned to the men. This was her station for the rest of the battle, it seemed.

  “Don’t look so sheepish,” she said. “You may have saved the ship. But if you want to be proper heroes, let’s get this engine running again!”

  SIXTEEN

  “Hard to starboard,” the captain said, and the pilot sent the master wheel spinning.

  As the Leviathan turned, the deck shifted beneath Alek’s feet, but it was nothing like the sickening dive of a moment before. The ocean had filled the front windows of the bridge, and he and Mr. Tesla had skidded forward on their dress shoes. Not for the first time Alek was envious of the crew’s rubber-soled boots. Bovril was still clinging tight to his shoulder, scared into silence.

  The zeppelin that had fired at the Leviathan swung into view below, still falling. A swarm of strafing hawks had spilled its hydrogen from a thousand cuts, and the German airship settled on the ocean like a feather on a pond. As the Leviathan’s shadow passed across it, a pair of canvas lifeboats emerged from beneath the billowing membrane.

  An awful thought occurred to Alek. “Will the kappa attack those lifeboats as well?”

  Dr. Barlow shook her head. “Not unless the submarine sends out another fighting pulse.”

  “And we’re close enough to shore,” Dr. Busk added. “Those chaps should be fine, as long as they don’t mind a bit of rowing!”

  “A bit of rowing,” repeated Dr. Barlow’s loris from the ceiling, and had a chuckle. Bovril looked up and joined in, relaxing its grip on Alek’s shoulder a little.

  “The others aren’t so lucky,” Mr. Tesla said, staring at the Kaiserin Elizabeth in the distance. She looked like a haunted ship. Her decks were awash with blood and were glittering with spikes, and kappa roamed freely across them, searching for prey. If any crew had survived, they must have hidden belowdecks behind metal hatches.

  The second zeppelin hovered over the warship, sending a last shower of darts down onto the kappa. But the first strafing hawks were arriving, hacking at the zeppelin’s fragile skin. Its engines soon fired up, and the German airship began to pull away.

  “We won’t pursue them, will we?” Alek asked.

  “I doubt we shall bother.” Dr. Busk nodded to Tesla. “Getting you to Japan is more important than this sideshow.”

  Alek let out a quiet sigh. As Count Volger had suspected, this long voyage had all been for show. The Admiralty wanted to prove that British air power was global, and that the Great War was a contest among European powers, not upstart empires in Asia.

  But at least now that the Union Jack had been waved, the Leviathan could turn around and head for Tokyo—and then America, if the Admiralty allowed it.

  “I don’t suppose those creatures recognize the white flag,” Tesla said.

  “The submarine will call them off,” Dr. Barlow replied. “Exactly how is known only to the Japanese, for obvious reasons.”

  “Wouldn’t want the enemy figuring out how to turn your beasties peaceable, would you?” Dr. Busk scanned the ocean’s surface through a telescope. “Some sort of sound would be my guess. One that humans can’t hear, a bit like a dog whistle.”

  “Quite a vicious dog,” Mr. Tesla said.

  “Vicious,” Bovril repeated gravely.

  Alek found himself nodding. He’d seen plenty of Darwinist creatures in battle before, but nothing as horrifying as these kappa. The beasts had sprung from the water so quickly, like something from a nightmare.

  But in a way it was a relief, seeing Mr. Tesla so unsettled. If he was appalled to see Austrian sailors slaughtered like this, surely he would think twice before unleashing his weapon on a defenseless city.

  “And yet the ship is undamaged,” Dr. Busk said. “She’ll join the Japanese navy now, like the Russian fleet did ten years ago. A most efficient form of victory.”

  Alek frowned. “The Japanese can operate a Clanker warship?”

  “They are adept with both technologies,” Dr. Barlow said. “An American named Commodore Perry introduced Japan to mechaniks some sixty years ago. Almost made Clankers of them.”

  “Lucky we put a stop to that, eh?” Dr. Busk said. “Wouldn’t want these fellows on the other side.”

  Mr. Tesla looked as though he were about to say something impolitic, but instead cleared his throat. “Your damaged engine, is it electrikal?”

  “All the Leviathan’s engines are,” Dr. Busk said, then bowed to Alek. “Except for the two that His Highness kindly lent us.”

  “So you aren’t entirely against the machine,” said the inventor. “Perhaps I could be of assistance.”

  “Allow me,” Alek said. In his two days of sulking, he had explored all of the ship’s engine pods. “It’s a bit tricky, but I know the way.”

  “Thank you, Prince,” said Dr. Busk, bowing. “You’ll be pleased to see that we use your alternating current design, Mr. Tesla. A truly ingenious concept.”

  “You are too kind.” Mr. Tesla bowed to the two boffins, and Alek led him from the bridge, heading for the aft end of the gondola.

  As they walked, Bovril shifted nervously on Alek’s shoulder.

  “A bit tricky,” it whispered into his ear.

  Even in the heat of battle, the boom that ran from gondola to ventral engine pod was unmanned. It was cramped inside, designed more to stabilize the ship than as a passageway, and the leggy Mr. Tesla had to stoop as he walked.

  “That was a ghastly business,” Alek said once they were alone.

  “War is always ghastly, whether conducted with machines or animals.” Tesla paused in his stride, watching a message lizard scuttle past overhead. “Though at least machines feel no pain.”

  Alek nodded. “Even the great airbeast itself has feelings, which can be a good thing. It retreated from one of your Tesla cannons when the Leviathan’s officers would not.”

  “Useful, I suppose.” Tesla shook his head. “But the slaughter of animals is destructive to human morals.”

  Alek remembered an argument Deryn had made in Istanbul. “But don’t you eat meat, Mr. Tesla?”

  “A personal weakness. One day I shall give up that barbaric practice.”

  “But you sacrificed your airbeast back in Siberia!”

  “Not without my reasons,” Tesla said, tapping his walking stick against the floor. “I couldn’t endure those bears starving to death, so I simply let nature take its course.”

  Bovril shifted on Alek’s shoulder, murmuring. The loris was always quiet around Tesla, as if cowed by the man. Or perhaps it was listening carefully.

  Alek didn’t know what to make of the inventor’s words. Perhaps it made sense, sacrificing one creature to save many. But what if Tesla applied that same logic to stopping the war?

  As they neared the engine pod, the floor of the passageway grew wet and sticky, and Alek smelled a foul, briny odor. Through an open hatchway ahead came the clang of tools.

  “Hello?” Alek called.

  A figure in a grimy flight suit appeared, sodden and smelly. As she snapped a salute, Alek realized with a start who it was beneath the muck.

  “Mr. Sharp!” exclaimed Bovril, leaning forward on Alek’s shoulder, reaching out for her.

  Of course. Deryn Sharp could always be counted on to be in the thick of any mayhem aboard the Leviathan.

  Alek stiffly returned her salute. “Mr. Tesla, I believe you’ve met Middy Sharp?”

  “He was kind enough to drop
in on me in Siberia,” the inventor said. “Are those feathers?”

  Deryn looked down at herself. Trapped in the engine grime on her flight suit were, indeed, a few feathers.

  Deryn flicked one off and snapped her heels, as if she were at a formal dance instead of in an engine room covered with bilge. “I was tending to the strafing hawks. Very kind of you to visit, Mr. Tesla.”

  Tesla waved his walking stick. “I’m not visiting; I’m here to help. This engine is based on my design, you know.”

  “What exactly happened here?” Alek asked.

  “The propellers sucked in a bit of rocket,” Deryn said, avoiding Alek’s eyes. “Started a fire, so the engineers called for a Herculean inundation. Watch your step, please.”

  Inside, the engine pod smelled like the gut of the ship. The floor was covered in gunk, the machinery blackened by fire. The engineers stopped their work and stared at Mr. Tesla, their eyes wide.

  “A Herculean inundation?” the inventor asked. “As in the seven labors?”

  Deryn looked puzzled, so Alek jumped in. “They must have flushed the rear ballast through the pod. Hence that sudden dive that sent us all sliding across the bridge.”

  Tesla lifted one shoe to peer at its grimy sole. “Both ingenious and unhygienic, like so much Darwinist technology.”

  Deryn stiffened a bit, but her voice stayed level. “You say you invented this particular engine, sir?”

  “I created the principles of alternating current.” Tesla poked at the machine with his walking stick. “Much safer on an airship.”

  Alek nodded. Visiting the pods a few days ago, he’d noticed how the electrikal engines didn’t spit smoke or sparks, and ran almost silently.

  “Alternating current,” Bovril repeated happily.

  “But you don’t have a boiler room aboard,” Tesla said. “Where does the power come from?”

  “These fuel cells here.” Deryn looked down at a pile of small metal kegs. “Hydrogen made by wee beasties in the whale’s gut.”

  “A biological battery!” Mr. Tesla exclaimed. “But they can’t have much power.”

  “They don’t have to, sir.” Deryn gestured out the pod’s high windows. “Darwinist airships get most of their push from cilia—those wee hairs along the flanks. The engines just give it a nudge in the right direction, and the airbeast does the rest.”

  “But the Leviathan is special. It has two Clanker engines as well,” Alek added. “It will get you to New York faster than anything else in the sky.”

  “Excellent.” Mr. Tesla pulled off his jacket. “Well, let’s get to work, then. The more engines the better!”

  As Mr. Tesla worked, he held forth on a variety of topics—from world peace to his fascination with the number three—but Alek found it all a bit hard to follow. Master Klopp had never taught him much about electrikal engines, which weren’t powerful enough to use in walkers.

  At first Alek tried to help by handing Tesla his tools, but the engineers soon crowded him out for the honor. Just like Bovril, they hung on the great man’s words. Alek found himself reduced to a waste of hydrogen, as usual.

  Then he noticed that Deryn had stepped out onto the stabilizing boom. Of course, Alek had been avoiding her the last few days. But it was childish, pretending not to know each other. Their sudden falling out might start Dr. Barlow asking questions, and the last thing Alek wanted was for Deryn to be found out thanks to him.

  He took a deep breath and stepped out through the hatchway.

  “Hello, Dylan.”

  “Afternoon, your princeliness.” Deryn didn’t look up. She was staring down at the passing ocean, the wind barely ruffling her muck-matted hair.

  For a moment Alek wondered if she were upset about him seeing her like this, covered in grime. But that was nonsense. Ordinary girls worried about that sort of thing, not Deryn.

  “Mr. Tesla should get your engine working soon,” he said.

  “Aye, he’s a barking genius. You should hear the engineers go on about it.” She looked aft. “And it seems he’s got the captain’s head spinning too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Deryn pointed at the glare of sunlight in the airship’s wake. “We’re headed due east. We’ll be in Tokyo tomorrow.”

  “Of course,” Alek said. “Now that we’ve lent the Japanese navy a hand, we can depart with Britain’s honor intact.”

  “The lady boffin said the same thing, but I thought she was blethering!”

  “Dr. Barlow doesn’t blether. Your Admiralty couldn’t let Tsingtao fall without British aid, because the Japanese aren’t properly…” He spread his hands, looking for the right word. “European. It wouldn’t do for them to beat the Germans without our help.”

  For the first time Deryn looked straight at him. “You mean we came halfway round the world just for show? That’s the biggest load of yackum I’ve ever heard!”

  “Yackum,” Bovril said, and leapt down onto the handrail.

  Alek shrugged. “More or less. But there was a higher purpose, it seems. Now we can help Mr. Tesla stop the war.”

  Deryn gave him the same exasperated look she did whenever he mentioned his destiny.

  “DRAINING.”

  “Are you going to punch me again?” Alek asked. “Because I’d like to get a good grip. It’s a long fall.”

  A smirk flashed across her face, but her eyes didn’t soften.

  “You are rather strong,” Alek said.

  “Aye, and I’m taller than you too.”

  Alek rolled his eyes. “Listen, Deryn—”

  “It’s not a good habit, you calling me that.”

  “Perhaps not. But I’ve been calling you the wrong name for so long, I feel I should make up for it.”

  “It’s not your fault I’ve got two names.”

  Alek looked down at the water slipping past. “So whose fault is it? I mean, even Volger thinks you’re a fine soldier, and yet you have to hide who you are.”

  “It’s just the way things are.” She shrugged. “It’s no one’s fault.”

  “Or everyone’s,” Alek said. “Deryn.”

  “Deryn Sharp,” said Bovril quietly.

  Both of them stared at the perspicacious loris in horror.

  “Brilliant,” Deryn said. “Just barking brilliant. Now you’ve got the beastie saying it!”

  “I’m sorry.” Alek shook his head. “I didn’t realize—”

  Suddenly her hand was across his mouth. He smelled engine grease and brine on her palm, then saw the message lizard making its way along the underbelly of the ship. Deryn let her hand fall, gesturing for silence.

  The lizard spoke with Dr. Barlow’s voice. “Mr. Sharp, tomorrow afternoon you shall accompany me to Mr. Tesla’s meeting with the ambassador. I seem to recall, however, that you have no formal uniform. We shall have to remedy that when we arrive in Tokyo.”

  Deryn swore, and Alek recalled that her only dress uniform had been destroyed in the battle of the Dauntless. Going to a tailor to replace it would be tricky enough, even without the lady boffin along.

  “Um, but—but, ma’am,” Deryn sputtered. “I’ll have to—”

  “Dr. Barlow,” Alek broke in, “this is Prince Aleksandar. I know you want young Dylan to look his best, but gentlemen’s tailoring is hardly your area of expertise. It would be my pleasure to go with him. End message.”

  The beastie waited a moment, then blinked and scuttled away.

  Deryn gave him a long stare, then shook her head. “You’re both daft. I can see to my own clothes, right?”

  “Of course.” Alek pulled at his own threadbare sleeve. “But I could use a bit of tailoring myself.”

  “True. You’re looking a bit less than princely.” Deryn straightened with a sigh. “Well, I have duties to attend to. See you when we get to Tokyo, I suppose.”

  “I suppose so.” He smiled at her.

  Deryn turned and strode back into the engine pod, shouting at the engineers to give Mr. Tesla some peace. Ale
k stayed out on the boom, staring down at the water a little longer and wondering at what he felt inside.

  Whatever her name was, he had missed his good friend these last few days, rather a lot.

  “A bit of tailoring,” Bovril said thoughtfully. “End message.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Alek pulled on another jacket, then scowled at the mirror. His Hapsburg Armor Corp uniform was just as threadbare as the others, shiny at the elbows and missing two buttons. Had he really spent the last weeks walking about in such a disreputable state?

  “This seems unwise,” Count Volger said.

  Alek fingered the jacket’s frayed epaulettes. “I have an ambassador to impress, and I doubt the tailors in Tokyo are expensive.”

  “I’m not talking about the cost, Alek. You’re practically penniless, in any case.” The wildcount glanced out the window—one of the spires of Tokyo was sliding by, alarmingly close to the gondola. “I’m talking about that girl.”

  Alek picked up the silk piloting jacket he’d worn the night of the Ottoman Revolution. “Her name is Deryn.”

  “Whatever she calls herself, you’ve managed to escape her influence at last. Why risk another entanglement?”

  “Deryn isn’t an entanglement.” Alek pulled the jacket on and considered the effect. “She’s a friend, and a useful ally.”

  “Useful? Only in that she’s taken that beast away.”

  Alek didn’t answer. Deryn had dropped by his stateroom the night before to “borrow” Bovril. Alek found that he missed the creature’s weight on his shoulder and its murmurs in his ear. The perspicacious loris had offered comfort when everyone else had betrayed him.

  “You can’t trust her,” Volger said.

  “Nor can I trust you, Count. And Deryn, at least, can tell me what the Leviathan’s officers are thinking.”