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.
Regent's Park spread out beneath Deryn, its grass thick from the August rains.
Squads of ground men ran across it, shepherding the last few civilians out of the landing area. A thin line of policemen clung to the edges, holding back hundreds of gawkers. The Leviathan's shadow