Behemoth

“Well, then. I haven’t given you away to the sultan’s secret police, have I?”

Lilit hmphed and climbed ahead. “We’ll see what Nene says.”

“In any case,” Alek called up after her, “if the Germans find me, they won’t bother trailing me. I’ll simply disappear.”

Lilit didn’t turn to face him, but muttered, “That’s useful to know.”

The staircase continued up, dimly lit by a column of latticed windows letting in gray sunlight. As Zaven lead them above the swirling exhaust fumes on the street, the stairs grew brighter. Small touches of humanity appeared on the cold stone walls—family portraits and the three-barred crosses of the Byzantine Church.

“Zaven,” Alek asked, “do you live here?”

“A masterpiece of deduction,” Lilit said.

“We’ve always lived above the family business,” Zaven said, stopping before a pair of wooden doors with ornate brass fittings. “Whether it was a hat shop or a mechaniks factory. And now that the family business is revolution, we live above the Committee!”

Alek frowned, wondering where this “committee” was. The warehouse felt as still as an empty church; the paint on the walls was cracked, the stairs in disrepair.

As Zaven unlocked the doors, he said, “No disguises at home.”

Lilit gave him an annoyed look, but pulled the desert robes over her head. Beneath them she wore a brilliant red silk dress that almost reached the floor.

Alek noticed again how brown her eyes were, and how beautiful she was. What an idiot he’d been to mistake her for a man.

Zaven pushed through the doors into a riot of color. The apartments’ divans and chairs were covered with vivid silks, the electrikal lamps decorated with rainbows of translucent tiles. A vast Persian rug was spread across the floor, its meticulous geometries woven in the hues of fallen autumn leaves. Sunlight spilled in from a large balcony, setting the whole mosaic aflame.

The furniture had seen better days, however, and the rug was worn through in places.

“Very cozy,” Alek said, “for a revolution.”

“We do our best,” Zaven said, taking in the room with a tired sweep of his eyes. “A proper host would offer you tea first. But we’re already late.”

“Nene doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Lilit said.

Alek straightened his tunic. Nene was obviously the leader of the group. It would be best to look smart in front of him.

They led him to another set of double doors. Lilit knocked softly, waited a moment, then pushed the doors open.

Unlike the outer apartments, this room was dark, the air heavy with incense and the smell of dusty carpets. The viscous light of an old-fashioned oil lamp turned everything the color of red wine. A dozen wireless receivers sat in the shadows, their tubes softly glowing, the chatter of Morse code filling the air.

Against the far wall stood a huge canopied bed covered with mosquito netting. It rested on four legs carved with drooping folds of skin, like those of a reptile. Within the netting lay a small, thin figure wrapped in white sheets. Two glittering eyes stared out from beneath an explosion of gray hair.

“So this is your German boy?” came a crackly voice. “The one you had to save from the Germans?”

“He’s Austrian,” Zaven said. “But yes, Mother, he’s a Clanker.”

“And a spy, Nene.” Lilit bent to kiss the old woman on the forehead. “I saw him talking to a reporter before he came here!”

Alek slowly let out his breath. The fearsome Nene was simply Zaven’s mother? Was this whole Committee nothing but an eccentric family hobby?

He set down the birdcage and bowed. “Good afternoon, madam.”

“Well, you certainly have an Austrian accent,” she said in excellent German—these Ottomans seemed to know half a dozen languages each. “But there are many Austrians working for the sultan.”

Alek gestured at Zaven. “But your son saw the Germans chasing me.”

“Chasing you straight to one of our walkers,” Nene said. “A rather convenient introduction.”

“I had no idea that machine would catch me when I fell,” Alek argued. “I could have died!”

“You still could,” Lilit muttered.

Alek ignored her, kneeling by the birdcage to untie the cover’s straps. As he stood, he lifted the cage into Nene’s view.

“Would an agent of the sultan have one of these?” he said, then whisked off the cover.

The creature looked out at them all, its huge eyes round. It turned from one face to the next, taking in Zaven’s surprise, Lilit’s suspicion, and finally Nene’s cold, glittering eyes.

“What on earth is that?” she asked.

“A creature from the Leviathan, where I’ve served as engine crew the last two weeks.”

“A Clanker, on the Leviathan?” Nene let out a chuckle. “What nonsense. You probably bought that beast from some backroom shop in the Grand Bazaar.”

Alek drew himself straighter. “I certainly did not, madam. This creature was fabricated by Dr. Nora Darwin Barlow herself.”

“A Darwin, making a cuddly trifle like that? Don’t be absurd. And what use would it be aboard a warship?”

“It was meant to be a gift for the sultan,” Alek said. “As a way to keep the Ottomans out of war. But then it hatched, um … ahead of schedule.”

The old woman raised an eyebrow.

“You see, Nene? He’s a liar!” Lilit said. “And a fool to think anyone would believe his nonsense!”

“Believe,” the creature said, and the room fell silent.

Zaven took a step backward. “It speaks?”

“It’s just a parrot,” Alek said. “Like a message lizard, one that repeats words at random.”

The old woman fixed it with a long, critical stare.

“Whatever it is, I’ve never seen one before. Let me take a closer look.”

Alek opened the cage, and the beast climbed out and up onto his shoulder. He went closer to the bed, holding out a hand. The creature crawled slowly down his arm, returning Nene’s cold stare with its own wide eyed gaze.

Alek saw the woman’s expression soften, just as Klopp’s and Bauer’s did every time he put the creature in their care. Something about its huge eyes and wizened face seemed to generate affection. Even Lilit was struck silent.

Nene reached out and took Alek’s hands. “You have never worked for a living, that’s for sure. But there’s a bit of engine grease under your fingernails.” She rubbed his right thumb. “And you fence, don’t you?”

Alek nodded, impressed.

“Tell me something about the Leviathan that a liar wouldn’t know,” she demanded.

Alek paused a moment, trying to recall all the wonders he’d seen aboard the airship. “There are flechette bats, flying creatures made of jellyfish, and hawks who wear steel talons.”

“Those beasts have been in the penny papers all week. Try again.”

Alek frowned. He’d never read a newspaper in his life, and had no idea what was public knowledge about the Leviathan. He doubted the Darwinists had shown him any military secrets.

“Well, we fought the Goeben and the Breslau on our way here.”

There was a long moment of silence. From the looks on their faces, it seemed that little fact hadn’t been in the papers.