The East Coast of the United States had been in view all day, white beaches and salt-sheared trees, marshes and low green hills, a few small islands off the Carolinas. No delays for the last thousand miles, and the Leviathan was drawing near its goal. Deryn could hear the crew beginning to hustle about in the corridors. The sound made her heart sink.
Late tonight Eddie Malone would be at the offices of the New York World, handing in his story about Deryn Sharp, the brave airgirl who had fooled the British Air Service. By tomorrow her secret would be in the World, and by the next day it would be in every newspaper in America.
Deryn was exercising her knee, ignoring the buzzing bees, and readying herself to walk with the cane that lovely old Klopp had made for her. It was lathed from fabricated wood, but topped with a heavy Clankerish brass handle. She had no idea whether the captain would kick her off like a stowaway or throw her into the brig, but whatever happened, she didn’t want to be helpless.
A knock came at the door.
It opened before Deryn could answer, and in strolled the lady boffin, her loris on her shoulder and Tazza in tow. The thylacine bounded over and buried its nuzzle in Deryn’s palm.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Sharp.”
“Afternoon, ma’am.” Deryn lifted her cane into the air. “You’ll have to forgive me for not standing.”
“Not to worry. It looks as though Tazza misses you.”
“Don’t you miss me too, ma’am?”
Dr. Barlow sniffed. “What I miss is Tazza being walked at regular intervals. Mr. Newkirk has proven quite unreliable.”
“Sorry to hear that, ma’am. But he’s got my duties as well as his own,” Deryn said, then frowned. There wasn’t much point in bowing and scraping, now that her career was over. “Have you never thought of walking Tazza yourself?”
Dr. Barlow’s eyes widened a bit. “What an odd suggestion.”
“Mighty unsavory,” her loris said.
“Poor beastie.” Deryn stroked the thylacine’s head. “Well, send Mr. Newkirk round, and I’ll tell him he’s a bum-rag.”
“Bum-rag,” Bovril chuckled.
“Such language, Mr. Sharp!” Dr. Barlow exclaimed. “Are you sure you’re feeling quite all right?”
Deryn stared down at her leg. Her uniform fit over the compress, but a lump was still visible. “The cut on my arm’s fine, but Dr. Busk isn’t sure about my knee.”
“So he’s told me.” The lady boffin sat at Deryn’s desk, snapping for Tazza to return to her. “If you’ve torn the ligaments behind the kneecap, your days of climbing the ratlines may well be over.”
Deryn looked away, a sudden burning behind her eyes. Not that she would be let near any ratlines, once the officers knew she was a girl. But it still hurt to think that her ma and aunties could be right, after all. What if she couldn’t be an airman anymore?
“Dr. Busk isn’t sure about that yet, ma’am.”
“No, he is not. But with misfortune may come opportunity.”
“Pardon, ma’am?”
Dr. Barlow stood up again and began to inspect the cabin, sliding a white-gloved fingertip along the woodwork. “Over these past two months you have proven yourself useful, Mr. Sharp. You’re quite handy in unpleasant situations, and most adept at improvisation. You even possess, when not brooding in your sickbed, a certain knack for diplomacy.”
“Aye, I suppose.”
“Let me ask, have you ever thought of serving the British Empire in a more illustrious capacity than scampering about on an airbeast tying knots?”
Deryn rolled her eyes. “It’s a bit more than just tying knots, ma’am.”
“Having seen your talents firsthand, I cannot disagree.” The lady boffin turned to Deryn and smiled. “But if you accept my offer, you shall learn that untying knots—figurative ones, of course—can be even more rewarding.”
“Your offer, ma’am?”
“Am I so unclear?” the lady boffin asked. “I am offering you a position, Mr. Sharp. One outside the confines of the Air Service. Though I assure you, a certain amount of airship travel will be involved.”
“A position, Mr. Sharp,” her loris said, and Bovril made a low whistling noise.
Deryn leaned back into her pillows. Quite suddenly the buzz behind her kneecap had redoubled. “But what sort of position? You’re the… head keeper of the London Zoo, aren’t you?”
“Zookeeper, fah!” Dr. Barlow’s beastie said.
“That is my title, Mr. Sharp. But were you under the impression that our mission to Istanbul was zoological in nature?”
“Er, I suppose not, ma’am.” It occurred to Deryn that she had no idea what Dr. Barlow’s real position was, except that it involved ordering people about and acting superior. She was the great fabricator’s granddaughter, of course, and had been able to requisition the Leviathan right in the middle of a barking war.
“Do you work for anyone in particular, ma’am? Like the Admiralty?”
“Those half-wits? I should think not. The Zoological Society of London is not a government agency, Mr. Sharp. It is, properly speaking, a scientific charity.” Dr. Barlow sat down again, and began to stroke Tazza’s head. “But zoology is the backbone of our empire, and so the Society has many members of high station. Collectively, we are a force to be reckoned with.”
“Aye, I’ve noticed that.” The lady boffin had practically run the ship, until Mr. Tesla had come aboard talking of superweapons. “But what sort of position would your Society have for me? I’m no boffin.”
“Indeed not, but you seem a quick study. And there are times when my scientific work takes me into situations that are, as Mr. Rigby likes to say, quite lively.” Dr. Barlow smiled. “At those times a resourceful personal assistant such as yourself might be useful.”
“Oh?” Deryn narrowed her eyes. “How personal an assistant, ma’am?”
“You would hardly be my valet, Mr. Sharp.” She swept her gaze about the cabin. “Though I see you are in need of one yourself.”
Deryn rolled her eyes. It was barking hard keeping things tidy when you weren’t allowed to stand up. But this position looked like a chance to escape prison—or worse, being sent back to Glasgow and stuffed into skirts.
“That sounds agreeable, ma’am. But…”
Dr. Barlow raised an eyebrow. “You have misgivings?”
“No, ma’am. But you may, after… You see, there’s something you don’t know about me.”
“Do tell, Mr. Sharp.”
“Do tell,” her loris said. “Mr. Sharp.”
Deryn closed her eyes, deciding to blazes with it all.
“I’m a girl.”
When Deryn opened her eyes, the lady boffin was staring at her with no change of expression.
“Indeed,” she said.
Deryn’s mouth fell open. “You mean you… Did you barking know?”
“I had no idea at all. But I make it a policy never to appear surprised.” Dr. Barlow sighed, staring out the window. “Though on this occasion it is proving rather more demanding than usual. A girl, you say? And you’re quite certain?”
“Aye.” Deryn shrugged. “Head to toe.”
“Well, I must say this is extraordinary. And somewhat unexpected.”
“Mr. Sharp,” the loris on her shoulder said again, sounding quite smug.
Deryn found herself smirking a bit at the lady boffin’s discomfort. It was rather pleasing, revealing a secret to such a know-it-all. It might not be so awful, seeing the surprise on all the faces of the crew. And what could the officers do to her, now that she had the lady boffin’s protection?
“And why exactly have you perpetrated this hoax?”
“To fly, ma’am. And for the knots.”
The lady boffin hmphed. “Well, this is a new wrinkle, Mr. Sharp—or Miss Sharp, I suppose—but perhaps a useful one. The Society’s efforts sometimes employ the art of disguise. Really, it’s quite amazing that no one ever saw through your deception.”
“Well, I’m afraid that’s not the case.” Deryn cleared her throat. “Count Volger did first, and then a lassie in Istanbul named Lilit. And more recently Alek. Oh, and Pancho Villa and his doctor, and finally that bum-rag reporter Eddie Malone.”
The lady boffin’s eyes were quite wide now. “Are you quite certain there aren’t any more, young lady? Or am I the last person on this entire ship to know?”
“Well, that’s just the problem, ma’am. Pretty soon the World—that is, Mr. Malone’s newspaper—is going to know as well. He plans to tell them when we get to New York tonight.”
“Well, that puts things into rather a tailspin.” Dr. Barlow shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid I shall have to withdraw my offer.”
Deryn sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, Miss Sharp, that you have attained some notoriety in certain circles. You helped foment a revolution in the Ottoman Empire. An ambitious effort, even by the standards of the London Zoological Society!” The lady boffin sighed. “But when the news of what you really are is made public, your celebrity will only heighten the scandal.”
“Well, aye,” Deryn said. “For a week or so.”
“For some time, I’m afraid. Young lady, you have made a laughingstock of this ship and its officers. And you have picked a moment when all the eyes of the world are upon us. Think of what people will say of Captain Hobbes, not knowing that one of his own crewmen was a girl!”
“Oh.” Deryn blinked. “There is that.”
“And the shame won’t end there, Miss Sharp. The Air Service is quite a new branch of the military forces, and the Admiralty… Well, they just gave you a medal!”
“But you said they were half-wits!”
“Very powerful half-wits, Miss Sharp, whom the Society cannot afford to antagonize.” She shook her head. “But I’m sure that someone will be made happy by this revelation.”
“You mean the suffragettes, ma’am?”
“No, I mean the Germans. What a boon to their propaganda efforts!” She stood. “I’m sorry, Miss Sharp, but I’m afraid this won’t do at all.”
Deryn swallowed, trying to come up with some sort of argument, but the crushing truth was that Dr. Barlow was right. Lying in bed these last two days, Deryn had thought only about what Malone’s revelation would mean for herself, not for her captain and shipmates, much less the Air Service and the British Empire.
And worse, Alek hadn’t thought about it either. Would he still want her in his life, once she was famous for humiliating her Service and her ship?
“Don’t get me wrong, Miss Sharp, what you have done is quite brave. You are a credit to our gender, and you have my fullest admiration.”
“Really?”
“Indeed.” The lady boffin snapped for Tazza and opened the door. “And if you hadn’t been caught, it would have been a pleasure working with you. Perhaps after this war is over, we can speak of this position again.”
“Perhaps,” said the loris on her shoulder. “Miss Sharp.”