Leviathan

THIRTY-EIGHT

The struts leading to the airship were vibrating like piano strings, pulsing in time with the engine. The metal shivered in his hands, and Alek held tight against the icy winds, climbing quickly past the startled master engineer.

“Where are you going?” the man shouted.

Alek didn’t answer, his gaze fixed on the ground slipping past below. He couldn’t see how Dylan scrambled about on those ropes so casually. The leather safety harnesses the Darwinists wore hardly seemed thick enough to hold a man’s weight. Of course, they were probably made of fabricated leather, but that was only more unnerving.

The cilia rippled wildly on the creature’s flank, an ocean of shimmering grass, the ratlines fluttering in the wind. At least he wouldn’t have to dare the ropes. The struts led straight to an access hatch, which sat between the two ribs supporting the engine’s weight. Alek crawled through and headed down.

After the freezing wind outside, the warmth of the creature’s innards was welcoming, even with its odd and bitter smells. The ribs had a set of cross-ties between them, so Alek could imagine he was simply climbing down a ladder instead of crawling beneath the skin of a huge beast.

He’d been a fool not to realize that Volger would smuggle everything he could aboard the airship. The man never stopped scheming, never left the next step unplanned. Volger’s preparations for this war had taken fifteen years, after all. He wasn’t going to leave a quarter ton of gold behind without a fight.

Alek reached the bottom of the ladder, then dropped through another hatch into the main gondola. But then he paused, looking up and down the swaying corridors of the ship… .

Where was Volger’s cabin? Working all night on the engines, Alek hadn’t even slept in his. It didn’t help his sense of direction that crewmen were running everywhere, carrying furniture and spare uniforms to be tossed overboard.

Then he noticed that the gondola floor was tipping slightly to the left. Of course. The cabins they’d been given were all on the port side. And toward the bow—so the gold was dragging down the airship’s nose!

He ran forward until he spotted the familiar corridor. He threw open the door of Volger’s cabin. It was empty, except for a bed, a storage locker, and the Stormwalker’s wireless receiver on the desk.

Volger hadn’t left the gold in plain view, of course. Alek pulled out the desk drawers, but found nothing. The locker held only clothes and weapons from the castle stores.

Dropping to the floor, he spotted a map case under the bed. Alek reached underneath and tried to drag it out, but it wouldn’t budge—as heavy as a solid block of iron. He braced his feet on the bed and pulled at the case with both hands, but it still wouldn’t move.

Then Alek realized that the bed had to be far lighter than the gold, and flung it aside. But the latches of the map case were locked. He’d have to throw the whole thing out. Alek stood and pushed open the window, then tried to pick up the case.

It wouldn’t lift a centimeter off the ground. It was far too heavy.

“God’s wounds!” he swore, kicking at the lock.

“Looking for this?”

Alek looked up. Count Volger stood in the doorway, holding a key.

“Give me that, or we’re all dead!”

“Well, obviously. Why do you think I’m here?” Volger shut the door and crossed the room. “Beastly business, getting down from those engine pods.”

“But why?”

Volger knelt by the map case. “Klopp needed some translating.”

“No!” Alek groaned. “Why did you do this?”

“Bring along a vast fortune in gold? I should think that would be self-evident.” Volger unlocked the case with a flick of the key, then opened it.

The gold bars shone dully, a dozen of them—more than two hundred kilograms. Volger lifted a bar with both hands, grunting as he hurled it through the window. They both leaned forward, watching it flash in the sunlight as it fell.

“Well, that’s seventy thousand kroner gone,” Volger said.

Alek bent and lifted one, the muscles in his hands screaming as he heaved it up and out. “You almost got us all killed! Are you mad?”

“Mad?” Volger grunted, lifting another bar. “For trying to save what little of your inheritance you haven’t already thrown away?”

“This is an airship, Volger. Every gram makes a difference!” Alek pulled another bar from the case. “And you bring gold bullion aboard?”

“I didn’t think the Darwinists would cut it so close.” Volger grunted again, another gold bar spinning away. “And just imagine how pleased you’d have been if I’d been right.”

Alek groaned. Working alongside the Leviathan’s crew, he had absorbed the airmen’s mania about weight. But Volger thought in terms of heavy cannon and armored walkers.

Alek pushed another bar through the window—only six left.

“But we may as well finish the job,” Volger said. “Throw it all out, like the walker and the castle and ten years’ worth of supplies!”

“So that’s what this is about?” Alek said, lifting another bar. “That I’ve thrown away all your hard work? Don’t you realize we’ve gained something more important?”

“What could be more important than your birthright?”

“Allies.” Alek pushed the gold bar out the window. As it fell, he thought he felt the deck leveling beneath him. Maybe this was working.

“Allies?” Volger snorted, then lifted another bar and flung it out. “So your new friends are worth throwing away everything your father left you?”

“Not everything,” Alek said. “All my life you and my father prepared me for this war. Thanks to that, I don’t have to hide from it. Come on, there are only four left. The two of us can lift them all at once.”

“Still too heavy.” Volger shook his head. “Your father was an idealist and a romantic, and it cost him dearly. I always hoped you’d inherited a bit of your mother’s pragmatism.”

Alek looked down at the case.

Only four gold bars… . He wondered what a boy like Dylan would say to such a fortune. Maybe it wasn’t entirely mad, what Volger had done.

“Well,” he said, “perhaps we could save one.”

Volger smiled as he knelt, pulling one of the bars out and sliding it back under the bed. “There may be hope for you after all, Alek. Shall we?”

Alek knelt across from him, and together they heaved the case up, Volger’s face turning red with the effort. Alek felt his own muscles throbbing in his arms.

Finally the case was resting on the windowsill. Alek took a step back, then threw himself against the case as hard as he could.

The last three bars spilled out as they fell toward the snow, spinning wildly and glittering with sunlight. Alek felt Volger’s grip on his shoulder, as if the man thought he would go tumbling after them. The airship pitched up beneath Alek’s feet, rolling to starboard as the weight of his father’s gold fell away.

“But I truly didn’t think it would matter, not on a ship this huge,” Volger said quietly. “I never meant to endanger you.”

“JETTISONING THE LAST INGOTS.”

“I know that,” Alek sighed. “Everything you’ve done has been to protect me. But I’ve chosen a different path now—one less safe. Either you recognize that or we part ways when this ship lands.”

Count Volger took a deep, slow breath, then bowed. “I remain at your service, Your Serene Highness.”

Alek rolled his eyes, and started to say more. But a light flickered outside, and they both leaned out the window again.

Flares were arcing up from the ground. The Leviathan had reached the first German scouts. Their mortars were firing, sending bright cinders aloft. Alek breathed in the sharp, familiar scent of phosphorous, and the rumble of nearby cannon reached his ears.

“I just hope we weren’t too late.”