5Disclaimer: I do not own the Leviathan Trilogy or the rights of the characters in the story who should NOT be considered representative of their factual and historic counterparts.
Chapter 1
The Clanker steam engine blew its whistle as it approached its next crossing. "If you'd at least pretend to be interested, Miss Sharp," said the lady boffin with ill-disguised impertinence. "You will notice that we are crossing the Mississippi river."
Deryn glanced at the windows, but didn't rise from her seat. Since resigning her commission in her majesty's Air Service, she'd been stuck on these American Clanker trains, away from her precious Leviathan a whole week.
"Barking clankers," said Bovril, knowingly.
"Correct me if I'm mistaken, Dr. Barlow," said Alek, in his curt Clanker accent, "but the American south are Darwinists… where did this railway system come from?"
"For that you have J.P. Morgan to thank, Alek," interrupted Volger. Deryn noticed the enunciation on the ex-prince's name, as if the Count wanted Alek to notice he deliberately wasn't calling him "your serene highness". It didn't help her mood. "And the American south's failed war. Herr Morgan took advantage of the south's impoverished economic conditions to spread his railway lines."
"The south needn't be in such a dismal state had they not used slavery as the foundation of their entire economy," Dr. Barlow reminded Volger.
"Perhaps," the man conceded.
Deryn was thankful the count had let Dr. Barlow's cheek slide. Since New York, she hadn't the foggiest what was happening between them. The temperature seemed to rise three or four degrees whenever they were in the room together. Sometimes Deryn just wondered if they ought to…
"Fack!" said Dr. Barlow's loris. The lady boffin looked at the creature, aghast. "I'm sure you've been in the company of airmen and sailors for far too long. Imagine, such talk in the presence of a lady!"
Deryn wasn't sure which lady it was that the boffin was referring to.
"Why are we stopping?" asked Alek.
Deryn hadn't noticed it, but true to Alek's word, the train seemed to be slowing to a stop, having just crossed a mechanical drawbridge- more of Morgan's Clanker influence in the south.
"Who are those men?" Volger asked, pointing.
The hairs on the back of Deryn's neck started to rise and she moved to the window, following Volger's line of sight. Craning her neck, she was just able to make out a group of men obstructing the railway. They were wearing red shirts with black collars and all of them had short cropped hair. And they all had rifles.
But that wasn't even the most alarming thing about them. They were riding on top of a fabrication Deryn had never seen before. It seemed ursinesque, with the basic shape and frame of an American black bear- smaller than the Russian fighting bears, but just as menacing. However, its face was distinctly more canine, like a hound. And perhaps most bizarre was a hardened turtle shell on its back.
"Are they military?" asked Dr. Barlow.
"Can't be," said Deryn. "No train conductor would argue with servicemen, even if they were armed!"
True enough, the men in red seemed to be in a heated argument with the conductor in the engine.
The wildcount cursed and quickly turned to Alek. "Hide yourself, quickly."
"Count?" asked Alek. Deryn looked back and forth between the two. Had Volger figured out who these men were?
"Do as you're told, boy!" snapped the Count. He raced back to the windows and looked behind the train. "As I feared," he said. He pointed and once again Deryn tried to follow his gaze.
At first she saw nothing, then just a squick of movement on the braces of the Clanker drawbridge. It looked like one of the Japanese Kappa, but a closer look made Deryn realize it was yet another fabrication- crocodilesque by the look of it. It too had the fabrications of a turtle shell on its backside.
"Those men are a distraction," said the Count. "I think we'll find our train has a stowaway aboard. Midshipman Sharp. I believe this is your area of expertise."
"Too right," said Deryn, trying not to be too flattered that the count still recognized her service title. She removed her jacket and left the private car through the back door.
As she changed cars, she noticed the train rolling forward again. The men in red must have cleared the tracks to allow the train forward. She watched them as the train rolled by, standing to the side looking smug. Who were those men?
She decided her best chance of finding out was catching their bumrag mate.
The next car was full of passengers. Some glanced up at her as she entered but no one spoke. They returned to their respective newspapers and continued reading. Deryn noticed there were papers from every American city. Right away she recognized a copy of the New York World, but she also saw papers from Washington, Chicago, Atlanta, and Memphis.
She proceeded down the aisle to the next railway car and jumped across the gap. She opened the next car to reveal more passengers. Their attention was focused on someone else near the back of the car. A man in a red shirt!
He was holding up a copy of the New York World, the issue dated last November with Alek's face right on the front. They were looking for him! Whatever for? Alek wasn't a threat to the Germans anymore- the war was practically over. And what were Germans doing riding fabricated bears and crocodiles?
"You don't want this man meddling in the affairs of our states," the man in the red shirt was saying. "He's a Clanker and a dangerous Catholic. It's bad enough they've upset our way of life all while they live it up in the north. Now they're coming our direction, putting in their Republican governors- Jews and negros and the like."
So somehow Alek's expedition to the southern states had gotten out. It wasn't exactly a secret- the zoological society was a private organization and could travel where they pleased, even during wartime. But Volger had insisted on discretion, hence the private car. Perhaps this was the reason?
"You miss," said the man, noticing her. "You seen this boy?"
Deryn cleared her throat and stepped closer. "Has your ticket been punched sir?"
Her Scottish accent clearly threw him off. "Uh… what?"
"Your ticket?" she repeated. "Has it been punched."
"O- of course," he stammered. "Are you the person who…"
"Punches? Aye, that's me," said Deryn. She balled her right hand into a fist and delivered a swift right cross. The man fell in the aisle and Deryn quickly grabbed the rifle he had slung over his shoulder.
Just then, the railway's staff came rushing in- apparently one of the passengers had notified them of an intruder. "We'll take it from here, Miss," they said, taking the rifle from her.
Aye, she thought. Run along, lassie. Leave the fighting to the men.
"You punched him?" asked Alek, as the train pulled into the station.
"Aye, it hurt too," said Deryn, shaking her hand out. "My da always said go for the nose, but his chin was too good a target. But I wanna know why some American Darwinists are after you. What do they want?"
"Vigilantes and ruffians," huffed Volger, intruding.
Dr. Barlow elaborated. "Since their civil war, many small supremacist groups have sprung up across this continent harassing immigrants and African Americans."
"Why were they looking for me?" asked Alek.
"They probably see you as a symbol of everything they stand against," said Dr. Barlow. "Maybe they think they can gain some notoriety if they make an example of you."
"But how did they know we were even coming?" demanded Volger as the train slid to a stop and the doors whistled open. "One can only surmise your Darwinist American friend tipped them off."
"I doubt Ernest would consort with such men," said Dr. Barlow, grabbing Tazza's leash and snapping her fingers at Deryn to grab her bags.
"Ruffians," agreed her loris.
Volger shot the beast a nasty look. "How can you be so sure?"
Then they saw him. "Dr. Barlow, over here!" the boffin raised his hands and waved. He was unlike any boffin Deryn had ever seen. He was wearing strange pants that were colored blue and held up by suspenders and an open collared white shirt that stretched tight against a muscular frame. He wore glasses, but no bowler hat. And the thing that stopped them all in their tracks- his skin was as dark as night.
"Gentlemen, Miss Sharp," Dr. Barlow said, "allow me to introduce Mr. Ernest Just."