" 'If' is a word that can never be said too loudly." Volger stood up, looking out at the still cloudy sky. "For example, if you had died last night, the last decade of my life would've been altogether wasted."

"Have a little faith in me, Volger."

"I have great faith, tempered with vast annoyance."

Alek smiled weakly, falling back into his pillows. The ship's engines were still at full-ahead, the stateroom rumbling around him. The world was unsteady.

It wasn't fair of Deryn, kissing him. She knew the story of how his father had married a woman of lesser station, and all the disasters that had resulted. It had torn Alek's family apart, and in turn had upset the balance of Europe. His father's one selfish act of true love had cost more than anyone could count.

The pope's letter might make Alek the heir to his granduncle's throne, but it didn't alter the fact that he'd been rejected by his own family. The slightest mark against him would cast his legitimacy into doubt. Alek couldn't allow himself to think about a commoner that way. He had a war to stop.

He made a fist and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

"Great faith," Bovril repeated. "Vast annoyance."

Giving the beast a withering look, Volger said, "The captain asked me to mention that he'll be coming to see you."

"He must be annoyed as well. He had to risk four men just to rescue me." Alek closed his eyes and began to rub his temples. "I hope he doesn't shout."

"I shouldn't worry." Volger began to pace, his footsteps echoing in Alek's head. "Unlike mine, his annoyance will be well hidden."

"What do you mean?"

"The Darwinists see you as a link to Tesla. You're both Clankers, and both of you have switched sides in this war."

"Tesla doesn't think much of my political connections."

"Not to the Austrian government, no. But he sees you as a way to broadcast the news of his weapon." The man mercifully stopped pacing. "You were famous already, thanks to those ridiculous articles. And soon you will arrive in America on the world's greatest airship."

Alek sat up again and stared at Volger, trying to figure out if the man was serious.

"He's always been a showman. Dr. Barlow told me about his spectacle in Tokyo." Volger gave a shrug. "It makes sense, I suppose. The best way to keep Goliath from being used is to tell everyone what it can do, and that means creating a sensation. So why not promote his weapon to end the war with you, the boy whose family tragedy started it?"

Alek rubbed his temples again. The pounding was getting worse with every word. First Deryn, now this. "It all sounds quite undignified."

"You wanted a destiny."

"Are you saying I should let him put me on display?"

"I'm suggesting, Your Serene Highness, that you get as much sleep as possible over the next few days." Volger smiled. "Your headaches have only begun."

The ship's officers came a few hours later, just when Alek had managed to fall back asleep.

A marine sergeant shook him awake, then snapped to attention with a painful smack of his boot heels against the floor. Dr. Busk took Alek's pulse, staring at his watch and nodding sagely.

"You appear to be recovering nicely, Prince."

"Someone should tell my head that." Alek nodded at the assembled visitors. "Captain, First Officer, Dr. Barlow."

"Good afternoon, Prince Aleksandar," the captain said, and the four of them bowed together.

Alek frowned. This all seemed oddly formal, given that he was lying here in his nightshirt. He wished they would go away and let him sleep.

Dr. Barlow's loris dropped from her shoulder to the floor and crawled under the bed, where Bovril joined it. The two beasts began to mutter snatches of conversation to each other.

"What can I do for you?" Alek asked.

"You've already done it, in a manner of speaking." The captain was beaming, his voice altogether too loud. "Middy Sharp told us how bravely you assisted him last night."

"Assisted him? Dylan made the repairs. I only fell and hit my head, from what I can recall."

The officers all laughed at this, loudly enough to make Alek wince, but Dr. Barlow's expression remained serious.

"Without you, Alek, Mr. Sharp would have been un-tethered on the spine." She looked out the window. "In gale conditions nothing is more dangerous than working topside alone."

"Yes, I make excellent deadweight."

"Most amusing, Your Majesty," said Captain Hobbes. "But this modesty is falling on deaf ears, I'm afraid."

"I only did what any member of the crew would have done."

"Exactly." The captain nodded vigorously. "But you are not a member of this crew, and yet you performed heroically. A copy of Mr. Sharp's report has already been dispatched te Admiralty."

"The Admiralty?" Alek sat up straighter. "That seems a bit . . . excessive."

"Not at all. Reports of heroism are sent to London as a matter of course." He clicked his heels together and made a small bow. "But whatever they decide, you have my personal thanks."

The officers made their good-byes then, but the lady boffin remained behind, snapping her fingers for her loris. The beast seemed reluctant to come out from beneath the bed, where Bovril was babbling the names of German radio parts.

"Excuse me, Dr. Barlow," Alek asked. "But what was that all about?"

"You really don't know? How charming." She gave up on her loris and sat down on the end of the bed. "I think the captain means to give you a medal."

Alek felt his jaw drop open. A week ago it would have overjoyed him to be made one of the crew, much less decorated as an airman. But Volger's warnings were still fresh in his aching head.

"To what purpose?" he asked. "And don't tell me it's in recognition of my heroism. What does the captain want from me?"

The lady boffin sighed. "So jaded for one so young."

"Jaded, heh," came a small voice from beneath the bed.

"Don't be tiresome, Dr. Barlow. The captain already knows I'll help Mr. Tesla's cause. Why must he bribe me with medals?"

She looked out the window at the boiling clouds. "Perhaps he fears you'll change your mind."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because someone might convince you that Mr. Tesla is a fraud."

"Ah." Alek remembered Deryn's words in Tokyo. "And might that someone be you?"

"We shall see." Dr. Barlow reached down and snapped her fingers again, and finally her beast emerged. She lifted it onto her shoulder. "I am a scientist, Alek. I do not deal in surmise. But when I have proof, I'll let you know."

"It was awful, being at war with you," said the loris on her shoulder.

Alek stared at it, recalling when he'd said the words to Deryn in Japan. Had Bovril recounted that entire conversation to the other loris? The thought of all their secrets being traded between the creatures was most unsettling.

Dr. Barlow shook her head. "Pay no attention. These two beasts were clearly damaged in their eggs. Years wasted, all thanks to one bumpy landing in the Alps." She reached out to straighten Alek's bandages. "And speaking of bumps, do get some sleep, or you shall wind up as simpleminded as they."

After she left, Bovril emerged from beneath the bed. It crawled up onto Alek's stomach, chuckling to itself.

"What's got you amused?" he asked.

We shat="0em" width="1em">The creature turned to Alek, suddenly wearing a serious look.

"Fell from the sky," it said.

Chapter Twenty-Two

It took five days for the sky to clear again.

The storm had pushed the Leviathan across the Pacific swiftly, carrying the airship well to the south. The coast of California stretched across the windows of the middies' mess. A few white cliffs caught the sun, and behind them were rolling hills, grassy and patched with brown.

"America," Bovril said softly from Alek's shoulder.

"Aye, that's right." Deryn reached up to stroke the beastie's fur, wondering if it was only repeating the word, or if it had a real sense that this was a new place with its own name.

Alek lowered his field glasses. "Looks rather wild, doesn't it?"

"Here, maybe. But we're halfway between San Francisco and Los Angeles. Put together, those two cities have got almost a million people!"

"Most impressive. Then, why is it so empty between them?"

Deryn gestured at the maps on the mess table. "Because America's barking huge. One country, as big as all of Europe!"

Bovril leaned forward on Alek's shoulder, pressing its nose against the glass. "Big."

"And growing stronger," Alek said. "If they enter the war, they'll tip the balance."

"Aye, but which way?"

Alek turned, revealing the fresh scar on his forehead. His color had returned since the accident, and he no longer complained of headaches. But sometimes he got that daft look in his eye again, as if he didn't quite believe the world around him was real.

At least he hadn't forgotten again that Deryn was a girl. Kissing him had made certain of that.

She still wasn't quite sure why she'd done it. Maybe the energies of the storm had brought on an unsoldierly madness in her. Or maybe that's what oaths were all about, keeping your word even when it made everything go pear-shaped. No more secrets between them, no matter what. . . . That had a scary ring to it.

Neither of them had spoken of that moment again, of course. There was no future in kissing Alek. He was a prince and she was a commoner, and she'd made her peace with that back in Istanbul. The pope didn't write letters turning Scottish girls dressed as boys into royalty. Not in a million years.

But at least she'd done it once.

"They'd never take up arms against Britain," Alek was saying. "Even if they are half Clanker."

Deryn shook her head. "But Americans aren't just a mix of Clanker and Darwinist; they're a mix of nations. Plenty of German immigrants fresh off the b oaths werd still loyal to the kaiser. And plenty of spies among them, I'll bet."

"Mr. Tesla will end the war before any of that matters." Alek handed the field glasses to Deryn and pointed. "On those cliffs."

It took her a moment to spot the mooring tower, rising up from an odd cluster of buildings on the seaside hills. They were a mishmash of styles - medieval castles, ramshackle houses, modern Clanker towers, all half finished. Massive building machines moved among them, huffing steam into the clear sky, and cargo ships swarmed the long pier jutting into the sea below.

"Blisters, that's this fellow's house?"

"William Randolph Hearst is a very rich man," Alek said. "And a bit odd as well, according to Mr. Tesla."

"Which is saying something, coming from him."

"But he's the right man for the job. Hearst owns half a dozen newspapers, a newsreel company, and a few politicians as well." Alek said this firmly, then let out a sigh. "It was a lucky storm that blew us this far south, I suppose."

"News," Bovril said softly.

Deryn handed back the field glasses and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. Back in Istanbul, Alek had spilled his secrets to Eddie Malone to keep the reporter from sniffing out the revolution, about fleeing his home after his parents' murder and joining the Leviathan's crew. Everything except the pope's letter that promised Alek the throne, his last secret. He had hated every minute of being in the limelight. And now Tesla wanted to exhibit Alek's story on a much larger stage.

"Doesn't seem fair, making you go through all that palaver again."