Leviathan

FORTY-ONE

Alek had never seen such a cold look on Dr. Barlow’s face. Her eyes flicked from Dylan to the eggs, as if she thought the boy had come to steal one.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Dylan muttered, swallowing whatever he’d been about to say. “I was just heading up to see Tazza.”

Alek grabbed his arm. “Wait. Don’t go.” He turned to Dr. Barlow. “We have to tell the captain who I am.”

“And why would we do that?”

“He’s ordered Dylan to keep an eye on me, and to tell him everything he learns. Everything.” Alek stood up straighter, trying to summon his father’s voice of command. “We can’t ask Dylan to disobey a direct order.”

“Don’t worry about the captain.” Dr. Barlow waved her hand. “This is my mission, not his.”

“Aye, ma’am, but it’s not just him,” Dylan said. “The Admiralty knows we’ve got Clankers aboard, and the First Lord himself was asking about them!”

Dr. Barlow’s face darkened again, and her voice dropped to a growl. “That man. I should have known. This crisis is all his fault, and yet he still dares to interfere with my mission!”

Dylan tried to sputter some response to this, but failed.

Alek frowned. “Who is this fellow?”

“She’s speaking of Lord Churchill,” Dylan managed. “He’s the First Lord of the Admiralty. He runs the whole barking navy!”

“Yes, and you’d think that would be enough for Winston. But now he’s gone beyond his station,” Dr. Barlow said. She took a seat beside the eggs, pulling a few of the heaters away from the sick one. “Sit down, both of you. You may as well know the whole story, as the Ottomans will find out soon enough.”

Alek shared a look with Dylan, and they both settled onto the floor.

“Last year,” she began, “the Ottoman Empire offered to buy a warship being built in Britain. It is among the most advanced in the world, with a companion creature strong enough to change the balance of power on the seas. And it is ready to sail.”

She paused, peered at a thermometer, then moved a few more heaters around in the straw.

“But the day before you and I met in Regent’s Park, Mr. Sharp, Lord Churchill decided to seize that ship for Britain. Even though it was already paid for in full.” She shook her head. “He suspected that the Ottomans might wind up on the other side in this war, and he didn’t want the Osman in enemy hands.”

Alek frowned. “Well, that’s just plain thievery!”

“I suppose so.” Dr. Barlow flicked a piece of straw. “More important, it was a shocking bit of diplomacy. That annoying man has made it nearly certain that the Ottomans will join the Clankers. It is our mission to prevent that from happening.”

She patted the sick egg.

“But what’s that got to do with my secret?” Alek asked.

Dr. Barlow sighed. “Winston and I have been at odds about the Ottomans for some time. He doesn’t appreciate that I’m trying to fix his mistakes, and he’d love to get in my way.” She looked at Alek. “Finding out that we have the son of the Archduke Ferdinand as our captive would provide him with an excuse to turn this ship around.”

Alek set his teeth. “A captive? Our countries aren’t even at war! And may I remind you who runs the engines for this ship?”

“That is precisely my point,” Dr. Barlow said. “Now do you see why I don’t want you and Dylan blabbing to the captain? It would cause a great deal of trouble, setting us all against one another. And we’ve been getting along so splendidly!”

“Aye, she’s right,” Dylan said. The boy looked relieved.

Dr. Barlow turned and adjusted the egg again. “You can leave Lord Churchill to me.”

“But it’s not just your problem, ma’am,” Alek said. “It’s Dylan’s as well. You say you’ll protect him, but how can you promise to …” He frowned. “Who exactly are you, madam, to take on this Lord Churchill?”

The woman rose to her full height, adjusting her bowler hat.

“I am exactly as you see me—Nora Darwin Barlow, head keeper of the London Zoo.”

Alek blinked. Had she said Nora Darwin Barlow? A new trickle of nerves began to grow in his stomach.

“You m-mean,” Dylan stammered, “your grandfather … the barking beekeeper?”

“I never said he was a beekeeper,” she laughed. “Only that he found bees inspiring. His theories wouldn’t have achieved nearly such elegance without their instructive example. So stop your worrying about Lord Winston, Mr. Sharp. He’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Dylan nodded, looking pale. “I’ll just go see to Tazza, then, ma’am.”

“An excellent idea.” She opened the door for him. “And don’t let me catch you here again without permission.”

The boy started to slip out the door, then cast Alek one last look. For a moment their eyes locked. Then Dylan shook his head and disappeared.

He was probably as astonished as Alek. Dr. Barlow wasn’t just a Darwinist; she was a Darwin—the granddaughter of the man who’d fathomed the very threads of life.

Alek felt the floor shifting beneath him, but he doubted it was the airship turning. He was standing beside the incarnation of everything he’d been taught to fear.

And he had entrusted himself to her completely.

Dr. Barlow turned back to the eggs. She was rearranging the heaters, stacking them near the sick egg again.

Alek clenched his fists to keep the quaver from his voice.

“But what about when we get to Constantinople?” he said. “Once you and your cargo are safely there, what’s to stop you from locking me up?”

“Please, Alek. I have no intention of locking anyone up.” She reached out to ruffle his hair, which sent a shiver down his spine. “I have other plans for you.”

She smiled as she walked to the door.

“Trust me, Alek. And do keep a close eye on those eggs tonight.”

As the door closed behind her, Alek turned to look at the softly glowing cargo box, wondering what was in the eggs that was so important. What sort of fabricated creature could replace a mighty warship? How could a beast no bigger than a top hat keep an empire out of this war?

“What’s inside you?” Alek said softly.

But the eggs just sat there, not answering at all.