He turned to Volger. "What should we tell them, Count?"
"It might be wise," the man said in a hard whisper, "not to address me by rank."
Alek froze for a moment, glancing at Dr. Barlow. Either she hadn't heard the word "count" or she was too clever to show it. Or maybe she didn't speak German after all.
"Tell them we prefer not to discuss such a thing with foreigners," Volger continued. "Suffice it to say that we are neutral in this war. We certainly have no grudge against a shipwrecked crew."
Alek translated this carefully, thankful he'd been practicing his English with Dylan.
"Most mysterious," Dr. Barlow said.
"But certainly hopeful." The male scientist leaned forward. "Perhaps you can help us. What we need is quite simple: food. Lots of it."
"Just food?" Alek frowned.
"This is hardly some dead Clanker machine," the man said pompously, as if repeating a catechism. "The ship can heal herself, if we can just feed her enough."
Alek turned to Volger and shrugged. "He says all they need is food."
"Well, then. We'll give it to them."
"We will?" Alek asked. "But just yesterday you - "
"Your foolishness has given me a chance to reconsider," Volger said. "As we planned our attack this morning, they sent carrier birds aloft. Calling for rescue, no doubt. And worse, the Germans might be looking for them."
"So the sooner they leave this valley, the better," Alek said, feeling his humiliation fade a bit. If his reckless trip across the snow had forced Volger to help the airship's crew, perhaps he'd done the right thing after all.
"Besides," Volger said, "they'll want us to trade something for you, my annoying, useless young friend."
Alek glared at Volger, who smiled placidly back at him. He was only playing down Alek's importance, of course, in case Dr. Barlow could understand them. But Volger hardly had to relish it so much.
Alek gathered himself, then said in English, "We're happy to give you food. What kind does your ship need?"
"Raw meat and fruit are best," Dr. Barlow said. "Anything a bird would eat. Sugar and honey are useful for our bees, and we can dissolve starches, like flour, in the gastric channel."
"But how much?" he asked.
"Six or seven tons in all."
Alek raised an eyebrow, trying to remember what an English ton was. Almost a thousand kilograms? God's wounds, this was a hungry beast.
"I'm afraid we have no ... honey. But lots of sugar, meat, and flour. Will dried fruit do?"
Dr. Barlow nodded. "Our bats are very happy with dried fruit."
Bats? Alek shuddered a bit as he translated for Volger.
"Your little expedition is getting expensive, Alek," the wildcount said. "But we can spare it. And in return we'll take you away from here - now."
Alek faced the captain. "We'll trade you the food for my freedom."
The man frowned. "We'll be happy to send you home, of course. Once we have the food in hand."
"I'm afraid you'll have to release me now." Alek glanced at Volger. "My family will stand for nothing less."
Dr. Barlow was smiling. "Their concern for you is touching, Alek. But there is one problem. Once you're no longer our guest, that walker could easily destroy us."
"I suppose so," Alek said. He turned to Volger and said in German, "They want to keep me as insurance."
"Offer them a trade. Me for you."
"I can't let you do that, Volger. This is all my fault!"
"It would be difficult to argue with that," Volger said. "But we'll need two skilled pilots to move that much food."
Alek frowned. He suspected that the real reason was to keep him safe for the throne of Austria-Hungary. But it was true - old Klopp couldn't drive a laden Stormwalker back and forth in this cold, not alone. And, of course, here was the real reason Volger was pretending not to speak English. He wanted to spy on the unsuspecting Darwinists while he was their hostage.
"All right, then. I'll tell them we want a swap."
Volger held up a hand. "Perhaps we should drive a harder bargain. If we hold one of them hostage, they might be more inclined to return me in working order."
Alek smiled. He'd been ordered around by the Darwinists all night. It was time to return the favor.
"Volger will stay in my place," he said. "And we shall require a ... guest in return. Perhaps you, Captain?"
"I should think not," one of the officers said. "The captain is needed here."
"As are all my officers and crew," the captain said. "This is a wounded ship. I'm afraid we don't have anyone to spare."
Alek folded his arms. "Then I'm afraid we have no food to spare."
The table was silent for a moment, the Darwinists glaring at Alek while Count Volger looked on placidly, pretending not to understand.
"Well, the answer is obvious," Dr. Barlow finally said. "I shall go."
"What?" the captain sputtered. "Don't be absurd!"
"I am rarely absurd, Captain," Dr. Barlow said archly, then began to count off points on her finger. "Firstly, I shall hardly be making any repairs. Secondly, I know what food the Leviathan's creatures can and cannot eat."
"As do I!" the other scientist said.
"But you are the ship's surgeon," Dr. Barlow said. "Whereas I am hopeless as a nurse. Clearly I am the right choice."
As the officers began to argue with her, Alek leaned closer to Volger.
"She'll get her way," he said. "For some reason she's quite important here."
"That makes her an ideal hostage, I suppose."
"Not really," Alek muttered. Neither Klopp nor the other men spoke any English. He'd have to deal with Dr. Barlow on his own.
"Do you think she'll be trouble?" Volger asked.
"I suppose I can handle one woman," Alek said, sighing. "As long as she doesn't bring that wretched beast of hers."
THIRTY
Tazza seemed to enjoy riding in the Stormwalker.
The beast scrambled about the floor of the pilot's cabin, pawing for spent cartridges that had rolled into crevices and corners. Soon bored with that, it sniffed the emergency ration locker, then watched Alek's feet on the pedals and growled. It was quite annoying.