Read Online Goliath by Scott Westerfeld - Free Book Online Page A

beastly growls. The air smelled of lightning.
    Alek swung his boots to the floor and ran to his stateroom window. He’d only meant to doze for an hour, but the sun was high and the
Leviathan
had arrived at its destination. Dozens of mooring lines stretched to the earth below. The figures manning them were dressed in furs instead of airmen’s uniforms, all of them shouting in . . . Russian?
    The ground was littered with fallen trees—hundreds of them, maybe
thousands
. Chimney smoke rose from adistant cluster of buildings. Was this some sort of logging camp?
    Then Alek heard another roar, and saw fighting bears among the fallen trees. They had no riders, not even harnesses, and their matted fur looked wild. He took an involuntary step back from the window. The ship was low enough for the giant beasts to reach it!
    But they seemed to be running away.
    Alek remembered the thunderclap that had woken him. The ship’s crew must have scared the creatures off somehow.
    He leaned out the window as the
Leviathan
settled to the ground. Gangways were dropped, and the Russians, at least two dozen of them, climbed aboard. Soon a wailing siren swept through the ship, warning of a fast ascent.
    Alek pulled himself back inside just in time. The air crackled with the sound of ropes being cut, and the airship shot straight up, rising as fast as the steam elevators he’d ridden in Istanbul.
    What
was
this place? The jumble of fallen trees stretched as far as the horizon, the area far more vast than any logging camp could be. Even as the
Leviathan
climbed into the sky, no end to the destruction came into sight.
    Alek turned toward his cabin door, wondering where to go for answers. The Darwinists might involve him whenthey needed his Clanker expertise, but they wouldn’t be calling for him now.
    Where would Dylan be at a time like this? In the cargo bay?
    At the thought of the boy, Alek remembered the newspaper lying by his bed. The questions he’d fallen asleep asking welled up again. But this was hardly the time to wonder about the mysterious Dylan Sharp.
    The corridors of the ship were teaming with the Russians who’d come aboard. They were unshaven and haggard, half starved beneath their thick furs. The
Leviathan
’s crew was trying to relieve them of their heavy packs, but the men were resisting, English and Russian colliding with little effect.
    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.” Aleklooked 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 français?”
    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