Leviathan (22 page)

“NEGOTIATIONS AND COLLATERAL.”

defiant scowl on her face. The walker stood there, utterly motionless, as if transformed into a vast iron statue.
“Hey, in there!” she yelled. “Don’t move or I’ll spill your friend’s guts!”
“If you do that,” Alek pointed out, “they’ll simply blow you to pieces.”
“Don’t be daft,” she whispered. “I’m not
really
going to …”
Her voice trailed off as the machine’s head began to move. Two sets of steel teeth slowly opened, revealing a pair of faces inside.
“Hah!” Deryn said. “They can see us for sure now.”
Alek sighed. “Yes, but what do you expect them to do? Surrender to the superior force of your
knife
?”
“Well …” Deryn frowned. “I hadn’t really thought past this bit.”
Alek looked at her. “You really are a ninny, aren’t you?”
“Me, a ninny?” Deryn cried. “I’ve just saved us all from getting blown up!”
“You don’t really think they would have …,” Alek started, then let out a disgusted sigh. “Just yell for Volger to come down, under flag of truce. He’ll know what to do.”
Deryn thought this sounded sensible, whoever Volger was. She took a deep breath and shouted, “Attention, Clankers! Send down Volger, under truce.”
There was a long wait. Deryn glanced up, and saw Newkirk and his ascender drifting uselessly over the airship. The wind had died. She just hoped he had a good grip on his aerial bomb.
Behind them the airship’s crew was silent, the wind almost still. The only sounds were ticks and pops from the war machine as its engines cooled. She wondered if the officers would be upset about this idea of hers. No one had ordered her to use Alek as a hostage.
Of course, no one had ordered her
not
to either.
A soft metal groan pulled her eyes back to the walker, her grip on Alek tightening. Some sort of hatch was swinging open between the walker’s legs. A ladder made of chains spilled down from it, jangling wildly for a moment, the sun flashing from its steel rungs.
A man climbed down then, slowly and carefully. Deryn noticed a sword swinging under his fur coat.
“Is that Volger?” she whispered.
Alek nodded. “I just hope your captain honors the truce.”
“Aye, me too,” Deryn said. One shot from that cannon could still destroy the
Leviathan
where it lay.
These negotiations had to work.

TWENTY-NINE

Count Volger made his way toward them, the expression on his face unreadable.
Alek swallowed. Under the circumstances, Volger was unlikely to give him the tongue-lashing he deserved. But it was humiliating enough, standing here, held hostage by a mere boy.
Volger stopped a few meters away, his eyes moving warily between the airship’s crew in the distance and the blade at Alek’s throat.
“Don’t worry about this young fool,” Alek said in German. “He’s only playing at threatening me.”
Volger glanced at Dylan. “I can see that. Unfortunately, those men behind you are deadly serious. I doubt we can make it back to the Stormwalker before they pick us off.”
“No, but I think these people can be bargained with.”
“Hey, you two!” Dylan snapped. “Stop that Clanker-talk!”
Count Volger gave the boy a bored look, then continued in German, “Are you certain he doesn’t speak our language?”
“I very much doubt it,” Alek said.
“Well, then,” Volger said. “Let’s pretend that I don’t know English. We might learn something interesting if the Darwinists think I can’t understand them.”
Alek smiled—Volger was already taking control of the situation.
“What are you two saying?” Dylan demanded, tightening his grip.
Alek turned to face him, switching to English. “My friend doesn’t speak your language, I’m afraid. He wants to meet with your captain.”
The boy looked hard at Volger, then jerked his head toward the airship. “All right, let’s go. But no funny business.”
Alek coughed politely. “If I promise to avoid funny business, could you perhaps remove this knife from my throat?”
Dylan’s eyes widened. “Oh, aye. Sorry about that.”
The cold steel left his flesh, and Alek touched his neck and looked down at his hand. No blood.
“I used the dull edge, you daft git,” Dylan whispered.
“Much appreciated,” Alek said. “And I suppose that was quick thinking, getting me down here.”
“Aye, it was,” Dylan said, smiling. “Pure dead brilliant, me. I just hope the officers don’t give me a good kicking for thinking for myself.”
Alek sighed, wondering if he’d ever understand Dylan’s peculiar way of speaking. But at least no one was shooting yet.
Maybe the boy wasn’t such a fool after all.
The captain met them in a salon that took up the whole width of the airship. Now that oil lamps were lit and the gondola was almost level, the airship seemed less bizarre, even luxurious. The ceiling arches reminded Alek of vines curving overhead, and though his chair felt solid, it seemed to weigh nothing. Did the Darwinists fabricate trees as well as animals? The table was decorated with a pattern that seemed woven into the grain of the wood itself.
Volger’s eyes were wide as he scanned the room. Alek realized that the two of them were probably the first Austrians ever aboard one of the big hydrogen breathers.
Seven people sat around the table: Volger and Alek, Dr. Barlow and a bowler-hatted male scientist, the captain, and two of his officers.
“I hope you won’t mind coffee,” the captain said as they were served. “It’s a bit early for brandy, and cigars are strictly forbidden.”
“And there
is
a lady present,” Dr. Barlow said with a smile.
“Well, of course,” the captain muttered, clearing his throat and giving her a tiny bow. The two didn’t seem entirely friendly with each other.
“Coffee is more than welcome,” Alek said. “I haven’t slept much.”
“It has been a long night for us all,” the captain agreed.

Alek made a show of translating what had been said so far. Volger smiled and nodded as he listened, as if hearing everything for the first time.
Then he asked, “Do you think any of them speak our language?”
When Alek glanced around the table, none of the Darwinists volunteered an answer. But Alek murmured, “The lady has excellent Latin. Perhaps she knows other languages as well?”
Volger gave a slight nod, his gaze resting for a moment on Dr. Barlow’s bowler hat. “Then let us be careful.”
Alek nodded, and turned back to the
Leviathan
’s captain.

“Well, then,” the captain said. “Let me start by apologizing for any rough treatment. In wartime we have to suspect the worst of an intruder.”
“No harm done,” Alek said, reflecting on how apologies always came easier when you had a cannon pointed at someone.
“But I must admit, we’re still confused about who you are.” The captain cleared his throat. “That is an Austrian Stormwalker, is it not?”
“And carrying the Hapsburg seal,” Dr. Barlow said.
As Alek translated for Volger, he remembered Klopp’s plans to disguise the palace guard walker. But somehow a fresh coat of paint had never seemed terribly important while they’d been running for their lives.
“Explain that we’re political opponents of the emperor,” Volger said. “And that he’s seized the war as an opportunity to get rid of his enemies. We aren’t deserters. We had no choice but to run.”
As Alek translated this into English, he marveled at Volger’s quick thinking. The explanation was not only believable; it bordered on the truth.
“But who exactly
are
you?” Dr. Barlow asked when he was done. “Household retainers? Or are you Hapsburgs yourselves?”
Alek paused for a moment, wondering what the Darwinists would do if he told them he was the grand-nephew of the emperor. Take him back to England as a war prize? Publish the story of his escape as propaganda?
He turned to Volger. “What should we tell them, Count?”
“It might be wise,” the man said in a hard whisper, “not to address me by rank.”
Alek froze for a moment, glancing at Dr. Barlow. Either she hadn’t heard the word “count” or she was too clever to show it. Or maybe she didn’t speak German after all.
“Tell them we prefer not to discuss such a thing with foreigners,” Volger continued. “Suffice it to say that we are neutral in this war. We certainly have no grudge against a shipwrecked crew.”
Alek translated this carefully, thankful he’d been practicing his English with Dylan.
“Most mysterious,” Dr. Barlow said.
“But certainly hopeful.” The male scientist leaned forward. “Perhaps you can help us. What we need is quite simple: food. Lots of it.”
“Just food?” Alek frowned.
“This is hardly some dead Clanker machine,” the man said pompously, as if repeating a catechism. “The ship can heal herself, if we can just feed her enough.”
Alek turned to Volger and shrugged. “He says all they need is food.”
“Well, then. We’ll give it to them.”
“We will?” Alek asked. “But just yesterday you—”
“Your foolishness has given me a chance to reconsider,” Volger said. “As we planned our attack this morning, they sent carrier birds aloft. Calling for rescue, no doubt. And worse, the Germans might be looking for them.”
“So the sooner they leave this valley, the better,” Alek said, feeling his humiliation fade a bit. If his reckless trip across the snow had forced Volger to help the airship’s crew, perhaps he’d done the right thing after all.
“Besides,” Volger said, “they’ll want us to trade something for you, my annoying, useless young friend.”
Alek glared at Volger, who smiled placidly back at him. He was only playing down Alek’s importance, of course, in case Dr. Barlow could understand them. But Volger hardly had to
relish
it so much.
Alek gathered himself, then said in English, “We’re happy to give you food. What kind does your ship need?”
“Raw meat and fruit are best,” Dr. Barlow said. “Anything a bird would eat. Sugar and honey are useful for our bees, and we can dissolve starches, like flour, in the gastric channel.”
“But how much?” he asked.
“Six or seven tons in all.”
Alek raised an eyebrow, trying to remember what an English ton was. Almost a thousand kilograms? God’s wounds, this was a hungry beast.
“I’m afraid we have no … honey. But lots of sugar, meat, and flour. Will dried fruit do?”
Dr. Barlow nodded. “Our bats are very happy with dried fruit.”
Bats?
Alek shuddered a bit as he translated for Volger.
“Your little expedition is getting expensive, Alek,” the wildcount said. “But we can spare it. And in return we’ll take you away from here—now.”
Alek faced the captain. “We’ll trade you the food for my freedom.”
The man frowned. “We’ll be happy to send you home, of course. Once we have the food in hand.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to release me now.” Alek glanced at Volger. “My family will stand for nothing less.”
Dr. Barlow was smiling. “Their concern for you is touching, Alek. But there is one problem. Once you’re no longer our guest, that walker could easily destroy us.”
“I suppose so,” Alek said. He turned to Volger and said in German, “They want to keep me as insurance.”
“Offer them a trade. Me for you.”
“I can’t let you do that, Volger. This is all
my
fault!”
“It would be difficult to argue with that,” Volger said. “But we’ll need two skilled pilots to move that much food.”
Alek frowned. He suspected that the real reason was to keep him safe for the throne of Austria-Hungary. But it was true—old Klopp couldn’t drive a laden Stormwalker back and forth in this cold, not alone. And, of course, here was the real reason Volger was pretending not to speak English. He wanted to spy on the unsuspecting Darwinists while he was their hostage.
“All right, then. I’ll tell them we want a swap.”
Volger held up a hand. “Perhaps we should drive a harder bargain. If we hold one of them hostage, they might be more inclined to return me in working order.”
Alek smiled. He’d been ordered around by the Darwinists all night. It was time to return the favor.
“Volger will stay in my place,” he said. “And we shall require a … guest in return. Perhaps you, Captain?”
“I should think not,” one of the officers said. “The captain is needed here.”
“As are all my officers and crew,” the captain said. “This is a wounded ship. I’m afraid we don’t have anyone to spare.”
Alek folded his arms. “Then I’m afraid we have no food to spare.”
The table was silent for a moment, the Darwinists glaring at Alek while Count Volger looked on placidly, pretending not to understand.
“Well, the answer is obvious,” Dr. Barlow finally said. “I shall go.”
“What?” the captain sputtered. “Don’t be absurd!”
“I am rarely absurd, Captain,” Dr. Barlow said archly, then began to count off points on her finger. “Firstly, I shall hardly be making any repairs. Secondly, I know what food the
Leviathan
’s creatures can and cannot eat.”
“As do I!” the other scientist said.
“But you are the ship’s surgeon,” Dr. Barlow said. “Whereas I am hopeless as a nurse. Clearly I am the right choice.”
As the officers began to argue with her, Alek leaned closer to Volger.
“She’ll get her way,” he said. “For some reason she’s quite important here.”
“That makes her an ideal hostage, I suppose.”
“Not really,” Alek muttered. Neither Klopp nor the other men spoke any English. He’d have to deal with Dr. Barlow on his own.
“Do you think she’ll be trouble?” Volger asked.
“I suppose I can handle one woman,” Alek said, sighing. “As long as she doesn’t bring that wretched beast of hers.”