Behemoth (21 page)

“Just here is a ridge known as the Sphinx, a natural landmark. We can find our way back to it easily, day or night. So can your landing party, Mr. Sharp.”

“Landing party, sir?”

“That’s what I said. You’ll have to keelhaul drop from cruising altitude.”

Deryn raised her eyebrows. A keelhaul drop meant sliding down a cable to the ground. But according to the
Manual of Aeronautics
, drops were only for abandoning ship.

The bosun saw her expression, and smiled. “A bit lively, eh, Mr. Sharp? Especially for your first command.”

“I’ll be
in command
, sir?”

The captain nodded. “Can’t have a full officer in charge, in case you’re captured. Better a middy, so it’s less of an incident.”

“Oh.” Deryn cleared her throat, realizing why they’d been in such a rush to give her the barking medal. In case she didn’t make it back. “I mean, yes, sir.”

The captain’s finger slid across Gallipoli. “From the Sphinx your landing party will cross the peninsula to Kilye Niman—a bit more than two miles away.” He pointed at a narrow passage at a bend in the strait, which was marked with a dotted red line. “That’s where the Ottomans have their heavy kraken nets, according to our best dolphinesques.”

“Pardon me, sir,” Deryn said, “but if the dolphins have already scouted them, what am I going for? To take photographs?”

“Photographs?” The captain chuckled. “This isn’t a sightseeing trip, Mr. Sharp. Your job is to bring those nets down.”

Deryn frowned. Heavy kraken nets were strong enough to stop even the largest beasties from getting through. How was her landing party meant to cut them up? With a pair of clippers?

“Allow me to explain,” Dr. Barlow said, gesturing to two jars on the map table. They were crowded with tiny beasties, a honeycomb of white shells clinging to the interior of the glass. She twisted off the top of one, and the smell of salt water filled the room. “Did you know, Mr. Sharp, that my grandfather was an expert in the field of barnacles?”

“Barnacles, ma’am?”

“Amazing creatures. They spend their humble lives clinging to ships, to whales, to rocks and driftwood, and yet they are implacable. Enough of them can foul even the largest dreadnought’s engines.” She pulled on heavy gloves and lifted a pair of tongs from the table, then fished out a single beastie from the jar. “Of course, these are no ordinary barnacles. They’re a species of my own devising, prepared in case the Ottomans proved troublesome. You shall have to be careful with them.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am. I won’t hurt your beasties.”

“Hurt
them
, Mr. Sharp?” the lady boffin asked, and Dr. Busk laughed.

Suddenly Deryn smelled something besides seawater. It was a dark scent, like smoke from a smithy. Then she realized that the tongs were slowly drooping in Dr. Barlow’s hand.

The metal itself was …
melting
.

Dr. Barlow maneuvered the tongs carefully, so that they dropped the barnacle back into the jar of brine before
disintegrating altogether. “I call them vitriolic barnacles.”

“Of course, Midshipman Sharp, you must keep this mission secret from the rest of the crew,” the captain said. “Even the men in your landing party won’t know the entire plan. Is that clear?”

Deryn swallowed. “Perfectly clear, sir.”

Dr. Barlow carefully screwed the top back onto the jar. “Once the vitriolic barnacles are on the kraken nets, they’ll begin to multiply, interbreeding with the natural barnacles already there. In a few weeks the colony will be overcrowded, like these in the jar. Then they shall begin to struggle, trying to dislodge each other’s relentless grip. Their vitriolic ooze will tear away at the nets, turning the cables into a stringy paste of metal at the bottom of the sea.”

“We’ll return a month from now,” the captain said. “In the dark of the new moon, the
Leviathan
will guide a creature down the strait by searchlight. The Ottoman coastal artillery won’t be able to hit us in the air, and the beastie will swim deep underwater, unharmed by magnetic sea mines.”

“But won’t the Ottoman navy have plenty of warning, sir?” Deryn asked—the strait was almost a hundred miles from Istanbul.

“Indeed,” Dr. Busk said. “But Admiral Souchon won’t guess what sort of creature the
Leviathan
is bringing. It’s a new species, more formidable than any of our navy krakens.”

Deryn nodded, remembering what Dr. Barlow had told her on the sultan’s airship.

“It’s called a behemoth,” the head boffin said.

By the time she left the navigation room, Deryn felt unsteady on her feet.

First a decoration for gallantry, when she’d half expected to be hanged for treason. Then her first command, a secret attack against an empire that Britain was at peace with. That didn’t seem right at all. It was more like being a spy than a soldier!

And the final shock was the drawing of the behemoth that Dr. Busk had shown them. It was a huge creature, with tentacles like a kraken and a maw big enough to swallow one of the kaiser’s submarines. The body was nearly as big as the
Leviathan
, but made of muscle and sinew instead of hydrogen and fragile membranes.

No wonder Lord Churchill hadn’t wanted to hand it over!

As Deryn neared the central stairs, she frowned—a civilian was lurking about in the corridor ahead of her. She recognized the shapeless hat and the bullfrog on his shoulder. It was Eddie Malone, the reporter she’d met aboard the
Dauntless
, no doubt here to cover the sultan’s joyride.

But what was he doing so close to the bow?

“Excuse me, Mr. Malone,” she said. “Are you lost?”

The man spun around on one heel, a guilty expression on his face. Then he frowned and took a closer look. “Oh, it’s you, Mr. Sharp. How lucky!”

“Indeed you are, sir. You’re wandering about in a restricted area.” She pointed back toward the stairs. “I’m afraid you’ll have to rejoin the other reporters in the mess hall.”

“Well, of course,” Malone said, but he made no move to turn around, just stood there watching a message lizard scuttling past overhead. “I just wanted a better look at your magnificent ship.”

Deryn sighed. She had only a few hours to learn how to use a diving apparatus, how to keelhaul drop onto solid stone, and how to handle acid-spitting barnacles! She wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries.

“You’re very kind, sir.” She pointed down the corridor again. “But if you
please
.”

Malone leaned closer and spoke quietly. “Here’s the thing, Mr. Sharp. I’m checking out a story. One that might make your ship look bad, if reported in a certain way. Perhaps you could clear things up for me.”

“Clear what up, Mr. Malone?”

“I have it on good authority that you’re holding a prisoner here. He should be a prisoner of war, but you’re not treating him properly.”

Deryn took a long moment to speak. “I’m not sure who you’re talking about.”

“I think you are! A man named Volger is aboard this ship. You’re making him work on those Clanker engines of yours, even though he’s a real-life count!”

Deryn’s hand went to her command whistle, ready to call for the guards. But then she realized how Malone must have learned about Volger …
from Alek
.

With a quick look in both directions, she pulled Malone out of the main corridor and into the officers’ baths.

“Where did you hear this?” she whispered.

“I met an odd fellow,” he said softly, scratching the chin of his bullfrog. “I thought he was a bit suspicious, and suddenly the Germans were chasing him. That didn’t seem right, as he was Austrian, a fellow Clanker!”

“Germans?” Deryn’s eyes widened. “Is he all right?”

“He gave them the slip, and I saw him again today at lunch.” The man smiled. “He knew a lot about your ship, which was also odd. Do you think I could meet this Volger fellow? I have a message to deliver.”

Deryn groaned, her stomach winding into the same tight coils it always did when she was contemplating treason. But Alek was still here in Istanbul, and the Germans were after him! Maybe Count Volger could help.

She held out her hand. “All right. I’ll take the message to him.”

“It won’t work that way, I’m afraid.” Malone pointed at his bullfrog. “Rusty here has the message in his head, and you don’t know how to make him speak.”

Deryn stared at the frog, wondering if it was memorizing everything she was saying right now. Could she really trust this reporter?

Her thoughts were shattered by a whistle echoing through the ship—the all-hands signal. The sultan was almost here. In a few minutes all the ship’s marines would be arrayed along the gangway, waiting for his arrival.

Which meant that there wouldn’t be a guard at Volger’s stateroom door …

Deryn reached for her ring of keys.

“Come with me,” she said.

As expected, no one was guarding the count’s stateroom.

Deryn opened the door to the sight of Volger leaning halfway out his window, trying to get a better view of the sultan’s magnificent walker. Before she’d left the navigation room, Deryn had seen the elephant-shaped machine approaching across the airfield. It was even larger than the
Dauntless
, its howdah as ornate as a lady’s hat on Derby Day.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said to Volger’s backside, “but you have a visitor.”

As the wildcount extracted himself from the window, Deryn checked the empty corridor and closed the door behind them.

“A visitor?” Volger said. “How interesting.”

The reporter stepped forward and thrust out his hand. “Eddie Malone, reporter for the
New York World
.”

Count Volger said nothing, eyeing Malone up and down.

“He has a message from Alek,” Deryn said.

Volger’s face froze for a moment. “Alek? Where is he?”

“Right here in Istanbul.” Malone pulled out his battered notebook. “He told me about you being a prisoner aboard this ship. Are you being well treated, sir?”

Volger didn’t answer, his expression still one of shock.

“Blisters, Malone!” Deryn swore. “We haven’t got time for you to do a barking interview. Can your wee beastie please just deliver the message!”

“Alek said it was private, just for the count.”

Deryn groaned with frustration. “Alek won’t mind me hearing whatever he has to say. Right, your countship?”

Volger regarded the bullfrog with an expression of infinite distaste, but he gave the reporter a nod.

Malone took the beastie from his shoulder and set it on the desk. He scratched beneath its chin, tapping a sort of code with his fingertip. “Okay, Rusty. Repeat.”

The frog began to speak in Alek’s voice. “I can’t be sure if this is really you, Count, but I have to trust this man. We’re still here in Istanbul, you see, which I’m sure upsets you greatly. But we’ve met some friends—allies, I suppose you’d call them. I’ll say more about that when we meet face-to-face.”

Deryn frowned. Allies? What was Alek blethering about?

“Mr. Malone tells me that the
Leviathan
is still here
as well,” the beastie continued. “If you and Hoffman can escape, you can join us! We’re at a hotel in the old city, with a name like my mother’s. We’ll stay here as long as we can.”

At this, Count Volger softly groaned, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Oh, and I apologize for making you listen to this abomination. But I need your help, Count, more than ever. Please try to join us. Um, end message, I suppose.”

The bullfrog went silent.

“Do you mind if I ask you some questions, sir?” Malone said, his pen at the ready.

Count Volger didn’t answer, but sank into his desk chair, staring hatefully at the frog. “I suppose that’s really him?”

“It sounds like Alek, right enough,” Deryn said. “And the beasties can only repeat what they’ve heard.”

“Then why was he speaking in English?” Volger asked.

“My name’s not Rosencrantz,” Eddie Malone said. “I wasn’t going to carry a message I didn’t understand.”

“That little fool,” the count said quietly, shaking his head. “What’s he playing at now?”

Eddie Malone picked up the bullfrog and placed it on his shoulder, a frown on his face. “You don’t sound glad to hear from this fellow. He seemed to think highly of you.”

“Do you know what he was talking about?” Volger asked Malone. “Who these new ‘allies’ of his are?”

The man shrugged. “He was being cagey about it.
Istanbul is full of secret societies and conspiracies. There was a revolution just six years ago.”

“So he’s fallen in with anarchists? Splendid.”

“Anarchists?” Deryn frowned. “Alek’s not completely daft, you know!”

Volger waved his hand at the bullfrog. “I believe this proves that he is. All he had to do was leave Istanbul, then find somewhere to hide.”

“Aye, but
why
would he do that?” Deryn said. “You and his da kept him cooped up his whole life, like a budgie in a fancy cage, and now he’s finally free. Did you really think he’d find some hole to hide in?”

“The situation would seem to call for it.”

“But Alek can’t keep running forever,” she cried. “He needs allies, like he had on this ship before the barking war got in the way. He needs somewhere to belong. But I will say this—I’m glad he ran away from the likes of
you
, even if he’s joined the barking Monkey Luddite Brigade! At least he can find his own way now!”