They weren't ropes at all... .
Alek swallowed. "What is that thing?"
"Have you not been listening?" Dylan said. "It's a Huxley, a sort of jellyfish full of hydrogen. Looks like it's had a growth spurt too. Watch this!"
He dashed toward the dangling ropes - or tentacles? - and grabbed a handful, pulling his feet up to swing along the catwalk. The other tentacles curled and flailed, but Dylan climbed higher, pulling the bulbous object down toward himself. Alek could see its piebald skin all too clearly now. It was covered with bulges - like blisters, or the warts on a frog's skin.
And yet, despite his horror, Alek found himself fascinated by the alien grace of the tendrils. The beast was like something from the deep ocean, or a dream. Watching it left him half disgusted and half hypnotized.
Tazza ran beneath Dylan as he swung, nipping at his boots and barking. The boy laughed, still climbing, dragging the swollen creature down until he was almost touching its horrid skin.
Finally he let go, landing with a clang on the metal walkway. The angry tentacles slithered around him as the creature shot back into the upper reaches of the beast's innards.
"That one's getting strong," Dr. Barlow said. "It'll be ready soon."
"Ready for what?" Alek asked softly.
"To carry me." Dylan smiled. "The big ones can take an airman up a mile! We've got a few adult Huxleys living deeper in."
Alek stared up at the creature. A mile ... more than a kilometer and a half. From that height they'd easily spot the castle's rectangular shape, or even glimpse the Stormwalker standing in the courtyard.
"I see you understand, Alek," Dr. Barlow said. "We'll find your family soon enough. Perhaps you should save us the bother."
Alek took a slow breath. "Why should I help you?"
"You already tried to help us," she replied. "And, yes, I know you've been treated abominably in return. But you can't blame us for being suspicious. There is a war on, after all."
"So why make more enemies than you've already got?"
"Because we need your help - your family's help. Without it we may all die."
Alek stared hard into the woman's eyes. She was completely serious.
"You can't fix the ship, can you?"
Dr. Barlow shook her head slowly, and Alek turned away.
If the Darwinists really were stuck here, the only way to save them was to give up the castle and all its stores. It was that or let them starve. But could he trade his own men's safety, maybe even the future of his empire, for a hundred lives?
He needed to talk to Volger.
"Let me go," he said. "And I'll see what we can do."
"Perhaps if you took us to your home?" Dr. Barlow said. "Under flag of truce, to prevent any unpleasantness."
Alek thought for a moment, then nodded. They were going to find the castle anyway. "All right. But we don't have much time."
"I shall talk to the captain." She snapped for Tazza. "Mr. Sharp, I believe you have duties in the machine room."
"Aye, ma'am," Dylan said. "But what about Alek? Shall I lock him up again?"
Dr. Barlow looked at Alek. "Bella gerant alii?"
Alek nodded again. "This isn't my war to wage."
The woman gave him a smile, and turned to lead Tazza away. "I think we can trust Alek not to run amok, Mr. Sharp. Feel free to take him to the machine room with you. He's a very well brought-up boy."
She and Tazza disappeared into the gloom, the dangling tentacles of the Huxleys swirling in their wake.
"You understood what she said?" Dylan asked. "That bit in boffin-speak?"
Alek rolled his eyes. "It's called Latin, you simpleton. Bella gerant alii means 'Let others wage war.' She was saying we don't have to fight each other."
"You know Latin?" Dylan laughed. "You're barking posh, aren't you?"
Alek frowned, realizing his mistake. "What I am is stupid."
Dr. Barlow was still testing him, trying to figure out who and what he really was. No smuggler's son or mountain villager would have understood Latin, but he'd answered her without blinking.
The strange thing was, the phrase she'd uttered was part of an old saying about the Hapsburgs, how they'd gained more lands by marriage than war. Was she a mind reader as well as a scientist?
The sooner he was away from these Darwinists, the better.
TWENTY-SIX
As they walked back toward the hatchway, Dylan said, "The lady boffin must think you're something special."
Alek looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"That machine room is supposed to be off-limits." Dylan leaned closer, whispering, "There's something barking odd in there."
Alek didn't answer, wondering what could possibly qualify as odd in this menagerie of abominations. In the last few hours he'd seen enough uncanny creatures for a lifetime.
"But I suppose it's all right," Dylan continued. "Seeing as how you've decided to help us."
"No thanks to you."
Dylan came to a halt. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"If it were just you stranded on this glacier, I wouldn't lift a finger."
"Well, that's a bit rude!"
"A bit rude?" Alek sputtered. "I brought you medicines. I saved you from ... frostbitten bum. And when I asked you to keep quiet, you set those awful dogs on me!"
"Aye," Dylan said. "But you were running off."
"I had to go home!"
"Well, I had to stop you." Dylan folded his arms. "I took an oath to the Air Service, and to King George, to protect this ship. So I couldn't go making promises to some intruder I'd just met, could I?"
Alek looked away, his anger suddenly exhausted. "Well, I suppose you were doing your duty."
"Aye, I suppose so too." Dylan turned with a huff and started walking again. "And I was going to thank you for not shooting me."
"You're most welcome."
"And special thanks for not burning up the whole ship. Including yourself, you daft bum-rag."
"I didn't know the air was full of hydrogen."
"Couldn't you smell it?" Dylan laughed. "Those fancy tutors didn't teach you much useful, did they?"