"Haven't you plook-heads seen London before?" she asked, chewing.
"Not from up here," Newkirk said. "The Service never lets us big ships fly over cities."
"Wouldn't want to scare the Monkey Luddites, would we?" Tyndall said, punching Newkirk's shoulder.
Newkirk ignored him. "Look! Is that Saint Paul's?"
"Seen it," Deryn said, stealing a piece of Tyndall's bacon. "I flew over these parts in a Huxley once. An interesting story, that."
"Quit your blethering, Mr. Sharp!" Fitzroy said. "We've heard that story enough."
Deryn flicked a piece of potato at Fitzroy's dorsal regions. The boy always assumed superior airs, just because his father was an ocean navy captain.
Feeling the projectile hit home, Fitzroy turned from the view and scowled. "We're the ones who rescued you, remember?"
"What, you sods?" she said. "I don't remember seeing you at the winch, Mr. Fitzroy."
"Perhaps not." He smiled and turned back to the view. "But we watched you float past these very windows, swinging from your Huxley like a pair of trinkets."
The other middies laughed, and Deryn sprang up from her chair. "I think you might want to rephrase that, Mr. Fitzroy."
He turned away and gazed serenely out the window. "And I think you might learn to respect your betters, Mr. Sharp."
"Betters?" Deryn balled her fists. "Who'd respect a bum-rag like you?"
"Gentlemen!" Mr. Rigby's voice came from the hallway. "Your attention, please."
Chapter 12
Deryn snapped to attention with the others, but her glare stayed fixed on Fitzroy. He was stronger than her, but in the two tiny bunk rooms that the middies shared, there were a hundred ways to take revenge.
Then Captain Hobbes and Dr. Busk entered the mess behind Mr. Rigby, and her anger faded. It wasn't often that the master of the Leviathan, much less the ship's head boffin, addressed the lowly middies. She exchanged an anxious glance with Newkirk.
"At ease, gentlemen," the captain said, then smiled. "I'm not bringing you news of war. Not today, at least."
Some of the other middies looked disappointed.
A week ago Austria-Hungary had finally declared war on Serbia, vowing to avenge their murdered archduke with an invasion. A few days later Germany had started up with Russia, which meant that France would be next into the fray. War between the Darwinist and Clanker powers was spreading like a vicious rumor, and it didn't seem that Britain could stay out for long.
"You may have noticed London underneath us," the captain continued. "An unusual visit, and that's not the half of it. We'll be setting down in Regent's Park, near His Majesty's London Zoo."
Deryn's eyes widened. Flying over London was bad enough, but coming down in a public park was going to stir the pot for sure. And not just for Monkey Luddites. Even old Darwin himself might have got antsy about a thousand-foot airbeast landing on his picnic.
The captain crossed to the windows and looked down. "Regent's Park is at best a half mile across, a bit more than twice our length. A tricky business, but the risk is a necessary one. We're taking aboard an important guest, a member of the zoo's staff, for transport to Constantinople."
Deryn wondered for a moment if she'd heard right. Constantinople was in the Ottoman Empire, clear on the other side of Europe, and the Ottomans were Clankers. Why in blazes would the Leviathan be headed there now?
The airship had spent the last month preparing for war - combat drills every night, and daily musters of the fléchette bats and strafing hawks. They'd even flown within sight of a German dreadnought in the North Sea, just to show that a living airship wasn't scared of any pile of gears and engines.
And now they were headed off on a jaunt to Constantinople?
Dr. Busk spoke up. "Our passenger is a scientist of great renown, who'll be undertaking an important diplomatic mission. We will also be bringing cargo aboard, of a delicate nature. It must be treated with the utmost care."
The captain cleared his throat. "Mr. Rigby and I may have to make a difficult decision about weight."
Deryn took a slow breath. Weight ... so that's what this was about.
The Leviathan was "aerostatic," Service-speak for being the same density as the air around it. Maintaining this balance was a fussy business. When rain collected topside, water had to be dumped from the ballast holds. If the ship expanded in the hot sun, hydrogen had to be vented off. And when passengers or extra cargo came aboard, something else had to be taken off - usually something useless.
And there was nothing more useless than a new midshipman.
"I shall be reviewing your signals and navigation scores," the captain was saying. "Mr. Rigby will weigh in on which of you are paying the most attention in lectures. And, of course, any missteps during this landing will be frowned upon. Good day, gentlemen."
He turned and strode from the room, the head boffin leaving with him. There was a moment of silence as the middies absorbed the news. In a few hours some of them might be gone from the Leviathan for good.
"All right, lads," Mr. Rigby snapped. "You heard the captain. We're about to land on an improvised airfield, so look smart! They've got a ground crew in from the Scrubs, but no landing master with them. And our passenger is going to need help down there. Mr. Fitzroy and Mr. Sharp, you two are the best with the Huxleys, so you'll head down first... ."
As the bosun gave his orders, Deryn looked at the other middies' faces. Fitzroy returned her gaze coolly, and she didn't have to guess what that bum-rag was thinking. She'd been aboard the Leviathan barely a month, and it was only by freak chance that she was here at all. Not much better than a stowaway, as far as Fitzroy was concerned.
Deryn glared right back at him. The captain hadn't said anything about who'd been aboard longest. He was looking at airmanship, so he wanted to keep his best men.
And that's exactly what she was, man or not.
Maybe all the competition on the Leviathan would serve her well now. Thanks to Da's training, Deryn had always beat the other middies with knots and sextants. And even Mr. Rigby would admit that her behavior hadn't been as rowdy lately, and he'd just complimented her work with the Huxleys.
As long as the landing went brilliantly, there was nothing to worry about at all.