Scott Westerfeld - Behemoth (Leviathan)

Also by Scott Westerfeld

The first book in the trilogy:
Leviathan

And the books in the Uglies series:
Uglies
Pretties
Specials
Extras
Bogus to Bubbly:
An Insiders Guide to the World of Uglies

This book is a work of fiction. Any references
to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously.
Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the authors imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

SIMON PULSE
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Childrens Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
First Simon Pulse hardcover edition October 2010
Copyright 2010 by Scott Westerfeld
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
SIMON PULSE and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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Designed by Mike Rosamilia
The text of this book was set in Hoefler Text.
Manufactured in the United States of America
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Westerfeld, Scott.
Behemoth / written by Scott Westerfeld; illustrated by Keith Thompson.
1st Simon Pulse hardcover ed.
p. cm.
Sequel to: Leviathan.
Summary: Continues the story of Austrian Prince Alek who, in an alternate 1914 Europe, eludes the Germans by traveling in the Leviathan to Constantinople,
where he faces a whole new kind of genetically engineered warships.
ISBN 978-1-4169-7175-7 (hardcover)
[1. Science fiction. 2. Imaginary creaturesFiction. 3. PrincesFiction.
4. WarFiction. 5. Genetic engineeringFiction.]
I. Thompson, Keith, 1982 ill. II. Title.
PZ7.W5197Beh 2010
[Fic]dc22
2010009755
ISBN 978-1-4424-0957-6 (eBook)

To Justine:
nine years, seventeen novels, and counting

Alek raised his sword. On guard, sir!

Deryn hefted her own weapon, studying Aleks pose. His feet were splayed at right angles, his left arm sticking out behind like the handle of a teacup. His fencing armor made him look like a walking quilt. Even with his sword pointed straight at her, he looked barking silly.

Do I have to stand like that? she asked.

If you want to be a proper fencer, yes.

A proper idiot, more like, Deryn muttered, wishing again that her first lesson were someplace less public. A dozen crewmen were watching, along with a pair of curious hydrogen sniffers. But Mr. Rigby, the bosun, had forbidden swordplay inside the airship.

She sighed, raised her saber, and tried to imitate Aleks pose.

It was a fine day on the Leviathans topside, at least. The airship had left the Italian peninsula behind last night, and the flat sea stretched in all directions, the afternoon sun scattering diamonds across its surface. Seagulls wheeled overhead, carried by the cool ocean breeze.

Best of all, there were no officers up here to remind Deryn that she was on duty. Two German ironclad warships were rumored to be skulking nearby, and Deryn was meant to be watching for signals from Midshipman Newkirk, who was dangling from a Huxley ascender two thousand feet above them.

But she wasnt really dawdling. Only two days before, Captain Hobbes had ordered her to keep an eye on Alek, to learn what she could. Surely a secret mission from the captain himself outweighed her normal duties.

Maybe it was daft that the officers still thought of Alek and his men as enemies, but at least it gave Deryn an excuse to spend time with him.

Do I look like a ninny? she asked Alek.

You do indeed, Mr. Sharp.

Well, you do too, then! Whatever they call ninnies in Clanker-talk.

The word is Dummkopf he said. But I dont look like one, because my stance isnt dreadful.

He lowered his saber and came closer, adjusting Deryns limbs as if she were a dummy in a shop window.

More weight on your back foot, he said, nudging her boots farther apart. So you can push off when you attack.

Alek was right behind her now, his body pressing close as he adjusted her sword arm. She hadnt realized this fencing business would be so touchy.

He grasped her waist, sending a crackle across her skin.

If Alek moved his hands any higher, he might notice what was hidden beneath her careful tailoring.

Always keep sideways to your opponent, he said, gently turning her. That way, your chest presents the smallest possible target.

Aye, the smallest possible target, Deryn sighed. Her secret was safe, it seemed.

Alek stepped away and resumed his own pose, so that the tips of their swords almost touched. Deryn took a deep breath, ready to fight at last.

But Alek didnt move. Long seconds passed, the airships new engines thrumming beneath their feet, the clouds slipping slowly past overhead.

Are we going to fight? Deryn finally asked. Or just stare each other to death?

Before a fencer crosses swords, he has to learn this basic stance. But dont worryAlek smiled cruellywe wont be here more than an hour. Its only your first lesson, after all.

What? A whole barking hour without moving? Deryns muscles were already complaining, and she could see the crewmen stifling their laughter. One of the hydrogen sniffers crept forward to snuffle her boot.

This is nothing, Alek said. When I first started training with Count Volger, he wouldnt even let me hold a sword!

Well, that sounds like a daft way to teach someone sword fighting.

Your body has to learn the proper stance. Otherwise youll fall into bad habits.

Deryn snorted. Youd think that in a fight not moving might be a bad habit! And if were just standing here, why are you wearing armor?

Alek didnt answer, just narrowed his eyes, his saber motionless in the air. Deryn could see her own point wavering. She set her teeth.

Of course, barking Prince Alek would have been taught how to fight in the proper way. From what she could tell, his whole life had been a procession of tutors. Count Volger, his fencing master, and Otto Klopp, his master of mechaniks, might be the only teachers with him now that he was on the run. But back when hed lived in the Hapsburg family castle, there must have been a dozen more, all of them cramming Aleks attic with yackum: ancient languages, parlor manners, and Clanker superstitions. No wonder he thought that standing about like a pair of coatracks was educational.

But Deryn wasnt about to let some stuck-up prince outlast her.

So she stood there glaring at him, perfectly still. As the minutes stretched out, her body stiffened, her muscles beginning to throb. And it was worse inside her brain, boredom twisting into anger and frustration, the rumble of the airships Clanker engines turning her head into a beehive.