Goliath (Leviathan Trilogy) by Scott Westerfeld & Keith Thompson

Author:Scott Westerfeld & Keith Thompson [Westerfeld, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2011-09-20T04:00:00+00:00

The ship’s officers came a few hours later, just when Alek had managed to fall back asleep.

A marine sergeant shook him awake, then snapped to attention with a painful smack of his boot heels against the floor. Dr. Busk took Alek’s pulse, staring at his watch and nodding sagely.

“You appear to be recovering nicely, Prince.”

“Someone should tell my head that.” Alek nodded at the assembled visitors. “Captain, First Officer, Dr. Barlow.”

“Good afternoon, Prince Aleksandar,” the captain said, and the four of them bowed together.

Alek frowned. This all seemed oddly formal, given that he was lying here in his nightshirt. He wished they would go away and let him sleep.

Dr. Barlow’s loris dropped from her shoulder to the floor and crawled under the bed, where Bovril joined it. The two beasts began to mutter snatches of conversation to each other.

“What can I do for you?” Alek asked.

“You’ve already done it, in a manner of speaking.” The captain was beaming, his voice altogether too loud. “Middy Sharp told us how bravely you assisted him last night.”

“Assisted him? Dylan made the repairs. I only fell and hit my head, from what I can recall.”

The officers all laughed at this, loudly enough to make Alek wince, but Dr. Barlow’s expression remained serious.

“Without you, Alek, Mr. Sharp would have been un-tethered on the spine.” She looked out the window. “In gale conditions nothing is more dangerous than working topside alone.”

“Yes, I make excellent deadweight.”

“Most amusing, Your Majesty,” said Captain Hobbes. “But this modesty is falling on deaf ears, I’m afraid.”

“I only did what any member of the crew would have done.”

“Exactly.” The captain nodded vigorously. “But you are not a member of this crew, and yet you performed heroically. A copy of Mr. Sharp’s report has already been dispatched te Admiralty.”

“The Admiralty?” Alek sat up straighter. “That seems a bit . . . excessive.”

“Not at all. Reports of heroism are sent to London as a matter of course.” He clicked his heels together and made a small bow. “But whatever they decide, you have my personal thanks.”

The officers made their good-byes then, but the lady boffin remained behind, snapping her fingers for her loris. The beast seemed reluctant to come out from beneath the bed, where Bovril was babbling the names of German radio parts.

“Excuse me, Dr. Barlow,” Alek asked. “But what was that all about?”

“You really don’t know? How charming.” She gave up on her loris and sat down on the end of the bed. “I think the captain means to give you a medal.”

Alek felt his jaw drop open. A week ago it would have overjoyed him to be made one of the crew, much less decorated as an airman. But Volger’s warnings were still fresh in his aching head.

“To what purpose?” he asked. “And don’t tell me it’s in recognition of my heroism. What does the captain want from me?”

The lady boffin sighed. “So jaded for one so young.”

“Jaded, heh,” came a small voice from beneath the bed.

“Don’t be tiresome, Dr. Barlow. The captain already knows I’ll help Mr.

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