When Alek came downstairs for breakfast, Dylan was already there. The other boy had his face stuffed in a large medical book and barely acknowledged Alek when he sat down. Alek didn't feel like bothering him, so he focused on his food instead. It was fish.
Normally Alek liked fish, just not for breakfast and preferably not raw. But, he didn't want to be rude, so he managed to pick a small piece up with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. It didn't taste bad, but the texture and sliminess of it made it difficult to swallow. He looked over to see that Dylan had neither touched his fish nor his chopsticks and was slowly eating rice with his fingers. His eyes were practically attached to the book, causing him to pause between bites, his mouth open, while holding the rice midway between his lips and the plate.
"What are you reading?" Alek asked, wondering what could possibly be so fascinating. Dylan grinned and put the book down so Alek could see.
"Dr. Barlow gave it to me, amazing isn't it?"
Alek looked at the page the book was opened to and rubbed his eyes. On the left side was a picture of a disfigured naked boy. His limbs were bent at odd angles and his head looked too large for his body. On the other side was the same boy, just with his back cut open so Alek could see a grotesque amount of muscle and tendons.
"And it get's even better!" Dylan exclaimed. He turned the page to show a group of doctors placing what looked like a small animal inside the boy's back. Alek turned away in horror and realized that there was no way he would be able to take another bite of his fish without being sick.
"NO, I do not think that's amazing, I think it's disgusting."
Dylan looked a little shocked and offended, but he laughed as well.
"I forgot that Clankers are scared of modern medicine. Especially new and advanced discoveries that are barking medical miracles"
"Medical miracle? That? It looks more like human torture." Alek plainly stated. He closed the book so he didn't have to look at the photographs any more.
Dylan rolled his eyes.
"These are records of Emperor Taisho's surgery. He was born with a severe spinal disorder and was surgically attached to a fabrication when he was seven. The beastie was hooked to his nervous system so as the boy grew, the fab and him would have the same brain and nerve connections so he could control the beastie with his own mind. It's brilliant! And it saved his life."
Dylan had reopened the book and was showing Alek more disgusting photographs and diagrams. Alek was about ready to pull it out of his hands and throw it across the room in terror, but luckily he was saved by the entrance of Dr. Barlow.
"I hope you two have enjoyed your breakfast. Now hurry and finish up or we'll be late." She said, and before either of them could ask what they would be late for, she had turned and left the room.
"Blister's she's odd." Dylan said.
"You're one to talk." Alek responded while pointing to the open book. Dylan gave him a nasty glare.
Alek didn't figure out where they were going until they arrived at a large fortress later that morning. It was an immense stone brick structure that looked centuries old. The fortress hung over a rushing river a few kilometers upstream from Tokyo and looked even more formidable due to the weather. It was pouring and Alek counted at least three thunderclaps within a five minute period. Luckily, Dr. Barlow had suggested he wear his piloting jacket and cap. The water didn't penetrate through the coat and he wasn't as cold as he could be. Dylan, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. He was shivering beside Alek in a cotton shirt, his wet hair plastered to his scalp.
"Blisters, it's freezing! Wish I hadn't have left my gear on the Leviathan."
Alek gave his friend a sad smile.
"You know, you could have worn that jacket I gave you. It's leather."
"And its way too barking fancy to be wearing in this weather. I wouldn't want to ruin it, what with it being a gift and all. It's the best piece of clothing I got."
Alek was a bit taken by that statement. He hadn't realized how much Dylan had appreciated the coat. To Alek, it had just been another piece of clothing to lug around. He had been happy to get rid of it and therefore have more room in his suitcase.
Alek looked at his friend's face. Dylan's lips were blue and his teeth were chattering. He had wrapped his arms tightly around him, trying to warm his slender waist. A sudden urge hit Alek and he took off his piloting jacket and draped it over Dylan's shivering form. He then pulled Dylan toward him and put an arm around his shoulders.
"What in the blazes are you doing that for?" Dylan shouted at him.
Alek bit his lip, pulled his arm back and looked at his feet in embarrassment.
"I thought…you looked really cold."
"Aye, and so do you." Dylan replied. He took Alek's jacket off and tried to give it back, but Alek shook his head.
"No, you need it more than I do." It was true. Alek had another layer of warm fleece on, and Dylan was obviously underdressed.
The poor thing barely has any clothing. Alek thought. He wondered if Dylan had any warm clothes besides the jacket he had given him and a bit of gear for his duties as an airman.
Dylan paused for a moment, then with a shrug put the jacket on. It fit him strangely, slightly snug in the front and too loose in the shoulders, but the boy seemed truly delighted with it and gave Alek a huge grin. He was still shivering though so Alek put his arm around him again and this time Dylan didn't push him off.
"Is he alright?" Alek heard someone ask in German. He turned around to see that Otto Klopp was behind them and giving Dylan a worried look. "He's so skinny I thought he might blow away in this nasty rain."
"I'm fine!" Dylan responded in crude German. He could understand enough to know they were concerned about him.
"You really should eat more." Klopp said while motioning to his stomach. "Once you build up like me, no silly little rain storm can cut you down." He patted his belly and Dylan gave him an angry look. Obviously he wasn't too happy with them mothering him, but it was hard not to since he looked so pale and miserable.
"Klopp, what are you doing here?" Alek continued in German.
"The Lady Boffin says she needs my assistance with something. It sounded like engine problems, but she wasn't specific."
"Engine problems?" Alek asked. "But we aren't anywhere near the Leviathan. Unless she needs help with…oh no." He peered through the downpour toward the river. A large wooden pole, almost like a small bridge, was stretched across it. From this hung several ropes and pulleys that were holding what looked like a large cockroach.
"Alek, I can't….breath." Dylan muttered. Alek realized he had been squeezing the other boy too tightly. He let go with a mumbled apology and then pointed at the giant creature, no, giant thing hanging from the ropes.
"Aye, that must be the Demon," Dylan said, rubbing his sides with a groan. "Enormous, ain't it. Should we go get a closer look?" And before Alek could stop him, Dylan ran over to the edge of the wooden pole. With a sigh, Alek and Klopp hurried after him.
Enormous wasn't even close to describing how big the insect was. Most of it was submerged in the rushing river, which was doing nothing in the way of moving it. Only its head was above the water, and Alek saw two black eyes the size of small horses staring at him through tough grey insect armor.
Dr. Barlow suddenly appeared next to him.
"Marvelous isn't she?" The boffin said to him.
"I wouldn't call it that." Alek grumbled.
"We have to keep it submerged in water so it can stay warm. The air temperature is too cold for the creature to survive while it's still in pupae form, and anything too warm would be dangerous. You see, the liquid inside the fabrication's stomach will explode once it comes in contact with the gas inside the creature's lungs. If the liquid were to reach anything above 30 degrees centigrade, it could evaporate into a gaseous state and then mix with the contents in the lungs. The complications could be quite disastrous. We don't want the two mixing until we drop the creature over Tsingtau."
Alek swore in German.
"Watch your tongue your highness." She said in German back. "And if you and Mr. Klopp would follow me, I have something that may interest you."
She led them behind the fortress and past several large European looking mansions.
"Do people live here?" Dylan piped up from behind.
"They did, but do to the dangerous properties of the Demon we had to evacuate the area. This area, as well as the fortress, are owned by the British Embassy, whose members live in these homes."
They followed her behind one of the large abandoned homes into a long clear meadow. On the ground before them was a gigantic body of a Dolphin. The Goliath was slightly deflated but still incredibly terrifying. Unlike the Leviathan which had a certain beauty and charm, this fabrication was complete weaponry.
Industrious looking canons and missiles were everywhere. To Alek's horror they seemed to be made entirely out of the beastie's skin. Other contraptions included thousands of tiny catapults, which the boffin showed them up close. The catapults shot long, sharp arrows that stuck out of the beaks of humming birds. When the birds were released they could fly up to forty kilometers per hour and continue to chase an enemy target for nearly thirty minutes. Dylan was amazed with the birds and insisted on drawing one of the abominations, even in the pouring rain. They let him at it while the boffin hurried Alek and Klopp to the stern of the ship where the engines were kept.
"As you can see we are nearly through with them." She yelled over the rain. "I would just feel more comfortable if you could check them over one last time before we start our mission."
Klopp frowned. "And when will that be?" He glared at her.
"Probably in a week's time. We only have to wait for the Demon to be fully grown, and that should be any day now."
Alek shuddered. Only a week. Did the people of Tsingtau know that their lives would be ending so soon?
"Doctor, are you sure there is no other way?" He blurted.
"I have discussed this multiple times with the entire assembly, Alek. I wish we didn't have to do this, but we have no other choice." She gave a heavy sigh. "So if you'd please, I would appreciate you got to work on the engines soon so we don't have to stay out too long in this miserable rain."
She made to walk away but Alek grabbed her arm to stop her.
"I can't." He said.
"I beg your pardon?" She asked.
"I can't help you with the engines, Miss Barlow, I don't want to be part of your disgusting plan."
She stared at him, surprised for a moment before changing to a look of anger.
"You don't understand Alek, this is necessary for the war to end."
"How do you know that? Are you certain that the Germans will surrender? What if they don't? What if after you destroy their city, they continue to fight? Is it worth it to kill all those people when the plan might not work!" He was shaking now, and not just from the cold.
"It's only a few thousand people," She replied, her face inches from his. "Compared to the millions who are perishing in France and Serbia, it is a very small sacrifice to make."
Alek felt his face flush. "Those few thousand people are still people, Doctor Barlow, and not just some random commoners, but soldiers who are fighting with honor and pride for their country!"
"Aye, and we wouldn't give a donkey's arse about those random commoners now would we?" Came a high pitched sarcastic voice from behind him. Alek turned around and saw Dylan glaring at him. He wondered how long the boy had been standing there, listening.
"Dylan, I didn't mean it like that, you know what I mean." He fumbled.
"Sure I do." Dylan's voice was still high and shrill with anger. "The millions of commoners in France don't mean nothin' to you, but if a few German Soldiers are getting bombed you get your princely feathers all ruffled. For the record, my brother's in an airship over France right now, and he's just as bloody common as I am! But what do you care, you're a barking prince!"
Alek tried to apologize, but to his surprise Dylan spit at him then threw his jacket at his face. When he pulled it away, Dylan was already running back toward the fortress. He looked at Dr. Barlow, hoping for some sympathy, but she just watched him blankly.
"I'm afraid you don't have much choice in the matter, Prince Aleksander. You are a prisoner of war under the command of the British Empire. If I ask you to check the engines, it isn't a request, but a command." She pointed at one of the British soldiers that had been listening from behind her. "These men don't speak German, so I need you to communicate between them and Klopp about clanker parts, since I am not an expert on the subject."
Alek suddenly closed his mouth, realizing that he had had it wide open for several moments. He made to answer her, but she didn't stay to listen. Instead she walked away without giving Alek another glance.
Working on the mechanics was almost impossible in the rain, but Alek continued without any more complaints. Occasionally he would have to yell a question or comment between Klopp and the British Engineer, but otherwise the work was pretty straightforward. If it hadn't been such a terrible situation, he may have actually enjoyed himself. The engines were fabulously made, the largest he had ever seen up close, even if they were Japanese constructions.
Ideas fluttered into his mind about how he could sabotage the circumstance. He could easily throw a wrench in gears, or leave a bolt unscrewed. But the British Engineer was watching him like a hawk, and Alek couldn't afford to make anyone else angry. He felt horrible enough about how he had insulted Dylan and didn't want to have to face the boffin again after their conversation.
But Alek still couldn't get the idea out of his head that what they were doing was wrong. He was going to have to think of something. Even if it might cost him his alliance with the British Army, he had to stop the Goliath. He gulped, remembering the anger and betrayal he had seen on Dylan's face.
It doesn't matter. He tried to tell himself. One friendship is nothing compared to the lives of all those people.
Alek sighed and wiped the grease on his fingers off on his pants. Something had to be done, and he was going to have to be the one to do it.