Alek looked about, wondering how the ship could lift them all. The crew must have dumped every last bit of spare supplies.

A gloved hand landed on his shoulder. “It’s you, Alek. Perfect!”

He turned to find Dylan before him. The boy was wearing a flight suit, his boots muddy.

“You were out there?” Alek asked. “With those bears?”

“Aye, but they’re not so bad. Can you speak any Russian?”

“All the Russians I’ve met have spoken French.” Alek looked at the starving, unkempt men around him and shrugged. “And I think they were a different class of Russian.”

“Well, ask them anyway, you ninny!”

“Of course.” Alek began to push his way through the corridor, repeating, “Parlez-vous francais?”

A moment later Dylan was imitating him, calling out the phrase with a distinctly Scottish lilt. One of the Russians looked up with a spark of recognition, and led them both to a small man wearing pince-nez glasses and a blue uniform beneath his furs.

Alek bowed. “Je suis Aleksandar, Prince de Hohenberg.”

The man bowed in return and said in perfect French, “I am Viktor Yegorov, captain of the Czar’s Airship Empress Maria. Are you in charge here?”

“No, sir. I’m only a guest on this ship. You’re the captain of these men?”

“The captain of a dead airship, you mean!” The man glared over Alek’s shoulder. “That fool is in charge.”

Among the crowd was a tall man dressed in civilian clothes, being led away by two of the ship’s officers.

Alek turned to Dylan. “This man is Yegorov, an airship captain.” He pointed. “But he says that fellow is in charge.”

Dylan snorted. “Aye, him I’ve met already. That’s Mr. Tesla, the Clanker boffin, and he’s barking mad!”

“Tesla the inventor?” Alek asked. “You must be mistaken.”

Captain Yegorov heard the name and spat on the floor. “He cost me my ship, and almost got us all killed! An utter fool, with the czar’s men behind him.”

Alek said in careful French. “It isn’t Nikola Tesla, is it? I thought he was working for the Clankers.”

“Of course he was!” the captain said. “The Germans funded his experiments when no one else would, and he designed plenty of weapons for them. But now that war is here, he’s seen what they’ve done to his motherland! He’s a Serb.”

“Ah,” Alek said softly. “Of course.”

This Great War might have stretched across the world, but it had all started with the invasion of Serbia, for which Alek#8217;s family was to blame. His father—heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne—and mother had been killed by a group of Serbian revolutionaries, or so everyone thought. In reality the murders had been plotted by Alek’s own granduncle and the Germans. But tiny Serbia had been the first victim of Austria’s revenge.

Captain Yegorov’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. Is that . . . an Austrian uniform?”

Alek looked down at himself, and realized he was wearing his piloting jacket thrown over grease-stained mechanik’s overalls.

“Yes. Hapsburg Guards, to be precise.”

“And you’re the prince of Hohenberg, you said?” Captain Yegorov shook his head. “The archduke’s son, on a British airship? So the newspapers were telling the truth.”

Alek wondered how Eddie Malone’s ridiculous articles had made it to Siberia. “Some measure of it, anyway. I am Aleksandar.”

The man let out a dry laugh. “Well, I suppose if a Clanker inventor can switch sides, why not an Austrian prince?”

Alek nodded, the words finally sinking in. Nikola Tesla—inventor of wireless transmission, the Tesla cannon, and countless other devices—had joined the Darwinists. Count Volger would be fascinated to hear this bit of news.

“What are you two blethering about?” Dylan asked. “Has he told you yet why that Clanker boffin is here?”

“Mr. Tesla appears to have joined the Darwinists,” Alek said in English. He turned to the captain again. “But why are you all in Siberia? Mr. Tesla is an inventor, not an explorer.”

“He was searching for something in that fallen forest.” Captain Yegorov shook his head. “I have no idea what.”

Alek remembered the strange device in the ship’s belly. “Something metal?”

The man shrugged. “It could be. A few days ago his soldiers excavated a huge hole, and he was quite excited. After that we retreated inside the wire to wait for rescue.”

Alek turned to Dylan, roughly translating. “Tesla was looking for something here, something secret. He may have found it a few days ago, whatever it was.”

“Blisters. That means it’s come aboard.” Dylan looked down the crowded corridor, full of men with heavy packs but no Tesla. “They’ve taken him forward to speak with the officers.”

“Do you suppose they’d want to meet Captain Yegorov?” Alek asked.

“Aye, they would.” Dylan smiled. “And they might need a translator as well.”

A marine guard stood at the entrance to the forward corridor, keeping back the Russians. But he saluted when Dylan approached, and listened as the boy explained who Captain Yegorov was, and how he spoke no English. A few minutes later Alek found himself and the captain being taken forward.

“Watch out for that bum-rag!” Dylan called, then turned away to face the throng.

“I see no reason for this man to be here,” Tesla said, giving Captain Yegorov a cold stare. The man said something short and sharp in Russian back at him.

Dr. Barlow spoke in a calming voice. “This is a difficult moment for us all, gentlemen. Our ship is full of men and empty of supplies. The expertise of another airship captain is welcome here.”

Tesla gave a snort, which the lady boffin politely ignored.

“If you please,” she added to Alek. “My French is a bit rusty.”

As he translated her welcome for Yegorov, Alek heard a murmuring overhead, and glanced up to see both Bovril and Dr. Barlow’s loris hanging from the message lizard tubes. They were repeating everything, relishing the sounds of a new language.

Captain Yegorov bowed. “You have my thanks for rescuing us, and I appreciate the dire situation you are in. But it’s no fault of mine. That madman ordered his soldiers to kill my airship. Food for the bears!”

Alek translated the last part into English haltingly, not quite believing what he was saying. The Leviathan’s officers looked horrified as well.

After a moment’s silence Dr. Busk cleared his throat. “It is not our place to pass judgment on what has happened here. We are on a rescue mission, nothing more. Perhaps we should all introduce ourselves.” He turned to Captain Yegorov and said in slow, untidy French, “I am Dr. Busk, head science officer aboard His Majesty’s Airship Leviathan.”

As Dr. Barlow introduced herself and the captain, Alek noticed that her French was flawless. He wondered why she really wanted him here.

Mr. Tesla looked bored and irritable, tapping his cane and grimacing as pleasantries went around the table. But when Alek introduced himself, the inventor’s eyes lit up.

“The famous prince!” he said in English. “I’ve been reading about you.”

“Ah, you, too,” Alek sighed. “I had no idea the New York World was so popular in Siberia.”

Mr. Tesla laughed at this. “My laboratory is in New York City, and you were the talk of the town when I left. And by the time I passed through Saint Petersburg, the czar’s court was also buzzing about you!”

An unpleasant feeling came over Alek, as always when he thought of thousands of strangers discussing the details of his life. “Don’t believe everything you read in the newspapers, Mr. Tesla.”

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