Goliath (39 page)

“Mr. Sharp, you apparently have the ear—perhaps even the
affections
, though I shudder to think it—of the legal heir
to the throne of Austria-Hungary.” Dr. Barlow snapped for Tazza. “As long as your little skeleton remains in the closet, the Zoological Society of London shall have
many
uses for you. Now get ready, Mr. Sharp.”

“
Mr.
Sharp,” her loris said.

The ride across the Hudson River was splendid—the Statue of Liberty standing tall to the south, the towering skyscrapers of Manhattan ahead. Even the ferry’s engine smoke pouring out across the blue sky looked rather grand. Deryn had grown used to Clanker engines over the last three months, she supposed, just as Alek had become a bit of a Darwinist. The rumble of the motors through her body felt almost natural now, and seemed to soothe her injured knee.

She and Dr. Barlow—and their marine escort—were met by an armored walker at the ferry docks. It was smaller than a proper war machine, nimble enough for the crowded streets of New York, but definitely bulletproof. After the attack last night, no one from the
Leviathan
would be venturing out unprotected. Deryn’s rigging knife waited in a sheath inside her jacket, and the walking cane that Klopp had made for her was topped with a brass ball the size of an empress plum.

She might be dodgy in one leg, but Deryn reckoned she still had a bit of fight left.

The walker made its way through teeming crowds and beneath elevated trains. As they traveled north, the buildings grew shorter and were more like the row houses of London than skyscrapers. The air was clearer here than in Istanbul, the city driven more by electricity than steam, thanks to the influence of Tesla and the other great American inventor, Mr. Thomas Edison.

At last the walker reached the Serbian consulate, a large and solemn stone building with a line of policemen stretched along the footpath outside.

“Blisters. They look ready for trouble.” Deryn turned from the small windows. “But the Germans wouldn’t be daft enough to start a fight in the middle of Manhattan, would they?”

“The Germans will test President Wilson’s patience, I’m sure,” the lady boffin answered. “But the country is divided. There may have been hard words for Germany in the
New York World
this morning, but Mr. Hearst’s papers called the attack the work of anarchists, not Clankers.”

“Hmph,” Deryn said. “Maybe that bum-rag really
is
a German agent.”

“Mr. Hearst certainly dislikes the British.” The walker lumbered to a halt, and Dr. Barlow began to straighten herself. “And the Germans know that one stray rocket won’t drag America into war.”

Deryn frowned. “Ma’am, do you reckon the Germans
were after Alek? Or are they more worried about Mr. Tesla?”

“Last night I’d guess they wanted Tesla.” Dr. Barlow sighed. “But after reading this morning’s papers, their priorities may shift.”

Within the consulate walls it was easy to forget the armed policemen outside. White-gloved butlers in velvet tails took the lady boffin’s hat and traveling coat, and the strains of dance music echoed from the marble walls. At a short staircase past the entryway, Dr. Barlow kindly took Deryn’s arm, lifting a bit of weight off her bad knee.

The beastie on Deryn’s wound had done its work quickly, and she could walk without limping now, but she was still glad for her cane. The sounds of voices and music grew as a butler guided them through the consulate to a large and crowded ballroom.

The party was in full swing. Half the gentlemen were in military uniforms, the other half in morning dress—striped trousers and tailcoats. The ladies wore soft pastels, a few hemlines rising to the daring height of midcalf. Deryn’s aunties would have been scandalized, but perhaps it was only another sign that American women were changing fast.

Of course, that all mattered less to Deryn now that her secret was safe again. She wouldn’t be staying here in
America, but heading off with Dr. Barlow to work for her mysterious Society. Deryn had been so relieved this morning that it had taken all day for that simple fact to sink in—when the
Leviathan
departed for London tonight, she would be leaving Alek behind.

Just as the thought struck her, there he was across the ballroom, with Bovril on his shoulder, standing beside Tesla in a group of fawning civilians.

“Pardon me, ma’am.”

Dr. Barlow followed Deryn’s gaze. “Ah, yes, of course. But do be . . . diplomatic, Mr. Sharp.”

“Begging your pardon, ma’am,” Deryn said. “But I’ve been
diplomatic
enough to fool you these last three months.”

“Gloating is unchivalrous, young man.”

Deryn only snorted at that, and made her way across the room. She was soon within earshot of Tesla, who was expounding about the commercial potential of Goliath—how he could use it not just to destroy cities, but to broadcast moving pictures and free power to the whole world.

She hovered at the edge of the circle of rapt listeners until she caught Bovril’s eye. The beastie murmured something into Alek’s ear, and soon the boy was easing himself away from Mr. Tesla, who hardly noticed.

A moment later they were alone together in a corner.

“Deryn Sharp,” Bovril said softly.

“Aye, beastie.” She looked into Alek’s eyes as she stroked the loris’s head. “Thank you.”

Alek wore the same soft smile he always did when he was rather proud of something. “I promised to protect your secret, didn’t I?”

“Aye, by
lying
. Not by telling the barking truth!’

“Well, I couldn’t let you be disgraced. You’re the best soldier I know.”

Deryn turned away. There was so much she wanted to tell Alek, but it was all too complicated and unsoldierly to say here.

She began with, “Volger must be a bit angry with you.”

“He’s been oddly calm about it.” Alek’s gaze drifted over Deryn’s shoulder, but she didn’t turn to look. “In fact, he’s at work charming the French ambassador as we speak. We’ll need their recognition if I’m ever to take the throne.”

“Hang the barking throne. I’m just glad you’re not dead!”

Alek’s eyes came back to her. “As am I.”

“Sorry to be snappy,” she mumbled. “I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“It was almost like your father’s accident, wasn’t it?” He displayed his hands. “But I emerged without a scratch. Maybe the curse is broken. Providence.”

“Aye, there’s no denying you’ve got a ruinous case of
good luck.” She looked away. “But now that I’m Midshipman Dylan Sharp again, I’ll have to leave with the
Leviathan
. Our twenty-four hours is up tonight.”

“Ah, I’d forgotten that this is still a neutral port.” Alek’s stare faltered, as if he’d only just realized that by protecting her secret he’d sent her away. “Not much chance of them kicking you off now, is there?”

“No.” She looked around at all the people in their fancy clothes. No one was watching her and Alek, but it still seemed wrong to say good-bye in a crowd.

“You could still . . .” He cleared his throat. “What if you stayed anyway?”

“What? You mean jump ship?”

“Why not? Sooner or later they’re going to find out what you are, Deryn. And now that your secret’s safe, you can join us without a scandal.”

“Desertion is worse than a scandal, Alek. I can’t abandon my shipmates.”

“But if they knew what you were, they’d abandon
you
.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged. He was right enough, but that wasn’t what mattered. “My country’s at war, and I’m no deserter.”

“You can help your country by
ending
the war. Stay with me, Deryn.”

She shook her head, unable to speak. She wanted to stay, of course, but not for any noble reasons. However
awful this war might be, she wasn’t guided by anything so grand as making peace. Being steered by providence was for barking
princes
, not common soldiers.

And what Deryn wanted was out of reach, whether she stayed here or went ten thousand miles away.

Alek couldn’t read her thoughts, of course. He straightened and said in a small voice, “Sorry. That was foolish of me. We both have our duty. In fact, Mr. Tesla is talking to some very rich men over there. We’ll need their money to make improvements to Goliath.”

“You should go back and impress them with your Latin, then.”

“The faster this war is over, the quicker we can . . .” His voice faded.

“See each other again, aye.”

Alek clicked his heels. “Good-bye, Deryn Sharp.”

“Good-bye, Aleksandar of Hohenberg.” She felt a hard spot growing in her throat. This was really happening. They’d be apart for years now, and all she could think to say was, “You’re not going to get soppy and kiss my hand, are you?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Alek’s bow turned into a slow step backward, as if he were trying to leave but couldn’t. Then his gaze went past her, and he smiled with relief. “In any case, there’s someone else who wants a moment with you.”

Deryn closed her eyes. “Please don’t tell me it’s that bum-rag Malone.”

“Not at all,” Alek said. “It’s the ambassador of the Ottoman Republic and his beautiful young assistant.”

“The who and his what?” Deryn said as she turned around.

Standing before her were Lilit and the Kizlar Agha.

“OLD ALLIES.”

Lilit was the daughter of Zaven, the revolutionary who
had befriended Alek and Deryn in Istanbul. The Kizlar Agha, on the other hand, had been the sultan’s personal counselor. Zaven had been killed fighting for the revolution, and the sultan’s government overthrown.

So, what were these two enemies doing here in New York . . .
together
?

“Mr. Sharp!” Lilit threw her arms around Deryn, hugging her tight.

For a moment Deryn feared the girl would kiss her, as she had the last time they’d laid eyes on each other. But when Lilit pulled away, she only flashed a knowing smile.

“Ah, the airsick airman,” the Kizlar Agha said, stepping forward to shake Deryn’s hand. He was dressed in formal evening clothes, a far cry from his Ottoman uniform. But
the mechanical recording owl still sat on his shoulder, its clockwork spinning. “Pleasure to see you again.”

“Aye, and you, too! Both of you.” Deryn shook her head. “A bit unexpected, though.”

“Unexpected for all of us, I think,” Lilit said, watching Alek making his way back to Tesla’s group. Deryn forced herself not to do the same.

Maybe the war really would end soon, and they could see each other again. But for the moment, thinking about Alek would only make her life more complicated, painful, and likely to fall apart.

“I thought you’d be busy ruling the Ottoman Republic,” Deryn said to Lilit.

“So did I.” The girl swore in unladylike fashion. “But the Committee says I’m more suited to rebelling than to governing. So they’ve sent me as far away as possible.”

“Hardly a punishment, though,” the Kizlar Agha said with a smile. “At least I hope not, as I am here too.”

“Did Alek say you were the ambassador, sir?” Deryn asked.

The man straightened. “Ambassador of the Ottoman Republic to the United States of America. A rather long title to reward a tiny favor.”

“Not so tiny, sir,” Deryn said, bowing. On the night of the Ottoman Revolution, the Kizlar Agha had spirited away the sultan in his airyacht—kidnapping his own sovereign.
Thanks to that, the rebellion had ended in a single night. “I reckon you saved a few thousand lives.”

“I simply did my job and protected the sultan. He lives happily in Persia now.”

Lilit snorted. “He plots happily against the republic, you mean. His spies are everywhere!”

“He’s not the only one,” Deryn said. “As we found out last night.”

“Indeed.” The Kizlar Agha reached up to switch off the mechanical recording owl; the tiny wheels whirring within halted. His voice became a murmur. “As you may remember, Mr. Sharp, the kaiser was a close friend of my former sultan. I still have many contacts among the Germans.”