Behemoth

“The sultan’s new toys?” Nene asked. “When exactly?”

“Eight days ago. We stumbled on them due south of the Dardanelles.

Nene nodded slowly, her eyes sliding to one of the chattering wireless receivers. “It’s possible. Something was certainly afoot last Monday.”

“It was quite a battle,” Alek said. “The Goeben’s Tesla cannon almost put us all into the sea!”

The three exchanged glances, then Zaven said, “Tesla cannon?”

Alek smiled. At least he knew something that these revolutionaries might find useful. “That tower on her aft deck might look like a wireless transmitter, but it’s an electrikal weapon. It makes lightning. I know that sounds absurd, but—”

Nene silenced him with a raised hand. “It does not. Come for a walk with me, boy.”

“A walk?” Alek asked. He’d assumed the woman was an invalid.

“Onto the balcony,” she ordered, and suddenly the delicate sound of a clockwork mechanism filled the room. One of the bed’s wrinkled legs took a slow, smooth step forward.

Alek jumped back, and Lilit laughed from across the room. The creature crawled back up to his shoulder, echoing her giggle.

“Haven’t you ever seen a turtle move?” Nene asked, smiling.

Alek took another step back, getting out of the bed’s way as it lumbered toward the double doors. “Yes, but I never thought of sleeping on one.”

“You sleep on one every night, boy. The world itself rests on a turtle’s back!”

Alek smiled at her. “My mother used to tease me with that old wives’ tale.”

“Old wives’ tale?” Nene cried, her voice crackling. “The notion is perfectly scientific. The world rests upon a turtle, which itself stands on the back of an elephant!”

Alek tried not to laugh. “Then what does the elephant stand on, madam?”

“Don’t try to be clever, young man.” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s elephants all the way down!”

The bed made its slow way from the bedroom toward the balcony doors. As he followed, carefully matching its turtle’s pace, Alek wondered at the perfection of the mechanism. Clockwork machines ran on wound-up springs instead of noisy steam or gas engines, so the bed’s movements were smooth and slow, ideal for an invalid.

But the woman lying in it had to be mad, with her talk of elephants. All three of them were a bit peculiar, in fact. They reminded Alek of his own poor relations, once-wealthy families who’d fallen on hard times but still had an inflated sense of their own importance.

The night before, Zaven had said they’d been part of the Young Turk uprising six years ago. But was this strange family a real threat to the sultan, or simply wallowing in past glories?

Of course, Zaven’s walker had been nothing to sneeze at.

Out on the balcony Alek realized that the family’s apartments were built atop the warehouse, the rooftop surrounding them like a small plot of land. An odd place to live, but it had commanding views of the city. From this height they could see both the Sea of Marmara and the sparkling inlet of the Golden Horn.

There she was, just as Eddie Malone had said—the Goeben, resting beside a long pier. Her huge kraken-fighting arms were working above the surface, helping to load cargo.

Nene pointed a withered finger at the docks. “How do you know about this Tesla cannon.”

“It fired at us,” Alek said. “It almost set the whole ship aflame.”

“But how do you know its name, boy? I doubt you guessed it.”

“Ah.” Alek wondered how much to tell her. “One of my men is a master of mechaniks. He’d seen experimental models of the cannon.”

“Your men have knowledge of German secret weapons, yet you served aboard the Leviathan?” Nene shook her head in disbelief. “Tell me who you really are. At once!”

Alek took a deep breath, ignoring Lilit’s cold smile. “I’m an Austrian nobleman, madam. My father was against this war, and the Germans had him killed for it. My men and I were hiding in the Alps when the Leviathan crash-landed there.”

“And they simply invited you aboard?”

“We helped the Darwinists escape. Our Stormwalker was damaged, and their airship’s engines were destroyed. So we put the two together, so to speak, so that we could both escape the Germans. But once we were airborne, it became clear they considered us prisoners of war. We had to jump ship.” He spread his hands. “So here we are, looking for allies to fight with.”

“Allies,” the creature repeated softly.

“I want revenge on the Germans,” Alek said. “The same as you do.”

There was a long silence, then Nene shook her head.

“I don’t know what to make of you, boy. Clanker engines on a hydrogen breather? It’s ridiculous. And yet … no spy of the sultan’s would dare tell a story so unlikely.”

“Wait,” Lilit said, taking her grandmother’s hand. “Remember when the Leviathan flew over the city yesterday? And we thought it funny how the engines were smoking, like Clanker airships’ do?” She glanced at Alek. “Not that he’s telling the truth.”

Nene shook her head again. “No doubt this boy saw them as well, and that was what inspired this bizarre story.”

“Madam, I don’t enjoy being called a liar,” Alek said firmly. “It makes me a stronger ally that I know both Darwinist and Clanker secrets! I have military training and gold. My men and I can pilot walkers and fix them as well. You must let us help you, unless you’re only playing at revolution!”

Lilit sprang to her feet, her teeth bared. Zaven stood silent, but moved a hand to his knife.

Nene spoke very calmly. “Young man, you have no idea what this struggle has cost my family—our fortune, our station in society.” She gently took Lilit’s hand. “And this girl’s poor mother as well. How dare you call us amateurs!”

Alek swallowed, realizing that he’d gone too far.

“I doubt you can help us,” Nene continued. “I know an aristocrat when I see one. And spoiled brats like you never help anyone but themselves.”

The words struck Alek like a kick in the stomach—this was how people always saw him, as a pampered fool, no matter how hard he tried. His knees bent, and he found himself sitting on the bed.

“I’m sorry for speaking like an idiot,” he said. “And I’m sorry about your mother, Lilit. I lost my parents too. I just want to fight back somehow.”

“You lost both your parents?” Nene said, and her voice grew softer. “Who are you, boy?”

Alek looked into the old woman’s eyes, and realized that he had two choices—he could either trust her or go back to being alone. Without allies he and his men could do nothing but run into the wilds and hide.

But he was here in Istanbul for more than that, he knew.

“Who do you think I am?” he whispered.

“An Austrian nobleman, certainly. Perhaps an archduke’s son?”

He nodded, holding her fierce gaze.

“Then surely you know your mother’s full maiden name. And if you don’t get every last syllable right, my granddaughter will drop you off this roof.”

Alek took a breath, then recited, “Sophie Maria Josephine Albina, Countess Chotek of Chotkow and Wognin.”

Belief dawned at last on the old woman’s face.

“Our meeting is providence,” he said. “I swear I can help you, Nene.”

Inexplicably, Lilit burst into laughter. Zaven let out a low chuckle, and the creature joined in.

“What a charmer,” Lilit said. “He’s adopted you now, Nene!”

Alek realized his mistake. “Nene” wasn’t a name at all, but simply a word for “grandmother,” like “Oma” in German.

“I’m sorry my Armenian is deficient, madam.”

The old woman smiled. “Not to worry. At my age one can never have too many grandchildren. Even if some