as the man climbed back in.
Deryn lay there, listening to his breathing, realizing that she would have to wait for ages to make sure he was asleep again. At least her throbbing foot would help her stay awake.
The mysterious object was still jabbing into her back, and its size still bothered her. How had that contraption detected something so small from the other end of the ship?
Magnetic fields,
Klopp had said.
Deryn reached into a pocket and pulled out her compass. She inched it out from beneath the bed until its face caught a squick of moonlight. . . .
Her eyes widened. The needle was pointing straightat the object, toward the bow of the ship. But they were headed south-by-southeast, not due north.
The mysterious object was magnetized. It
had
to be what Tesla had been looking for.
Deryn counted a thousand slow heartbeats before daring to turn over. She felt the canvas sack in the darkness, and when her fingers slipped inside, they touched a cool metal surface. Not smooth, like cast metal, but as knobbly as a piece of old cheese.
She tried to test the object’s weight, but it wouldn’t budge from the floor. Solid metal was barking heavy, of course. Even hollow aerial bombs took two men to lift.
What in blazes was this thing?
Dr. Barlow might know, if Deryn could get a sample somehow.
She remembered the chapter from the
Manual of Aeronautics
on compasses. Iron was the only magnetic element, and a great spinning blob of it at the earth’s core was what made compasses work. She rubbed the metal and sniffed her fingers, and caught a tang almost like fresh blood. There was iron in blood, too. . . .
And iron was much softer than steel.
She pulled out her rigging knife and slipped it into the sack. Her fingers searched until she found a weesliver jutting up from the object’s rough surface. Tesla was snoring by now, so Deryn began to saw away at the sliver, the canvas sack muffling the rasp of her knife.
As she worked, her mind spun with questions. Had Tesla’s weapon used a projectile of some kind and this was all that was left? Or had the electrical explosion somehow fused all the iron in the frozen Siberian ground?
One thing was certain—Mr. Tesla’s claim of having caused all that destruction suddenly seemed more credible.
At last the sliver broke free, and Deryn slipped it into a pocket. She stretched her muscles carefully one by one. It wouldn’t do for her legs to cramp as she was sneaking out of the room.
She crawled from beneath the bed and slowly stood, watching the rise and fall of Tesla’s chest as she pulled her keys out. The door unlocked with a soft
click
, and a moment later Deryn was in the corridor.
Alek stood there looking pale, a drawn knife in his hand. Bovril still perched on his shoulder, wide-eyed and tense.
Deryn put her fingers to her lips, then turned and relocked the door. With a beckoning wave of her hand, she led Alek to the middies’ mess. He followed, his expression still anxious, his eyes darting down every corridor.
“You can put that away,” Deryn said when she’d closed the door to the mess.
Alek stared at his knife a moment, then slipped it back into his boot.
“It was maddening,” he said, “standing out there. When that other man stayed so long, I almost burst in to make sure you were all right.”
“Good thing you didn’t,” she said, wondering why Alek was so twitchy tonight. “You’d have started a ruckus for no reason. And look, while I was hiding under the bed from that Russian, I found something!”
She pulled the shard of metal from her pocket and placed it on the mess table. It didn’t look like much here in the light, just a shiny black blob the size of Bovril’s little finger.
“That can’t be what Tesla came here for,” Alek said. “It’s too small.”
“That’s just a wee piece of it,
Dummkopf
. The rest is as big as your daft head.”
Alek pulled out a chair and sat at the mess table, looking exhausted. “That still seems
Deryn lay there, listening to his breathing, realizing that she would have to wait for ages to make sure he was asleep again. At least her throbbing foot would help her stay awake.
The mysterious object was still jabbing into her back, and its size still bothered her. How had that contraption detected something so small from the other end of the ship?
Magnetic fields,
Klopp had said.
Deryn reached into a pocket and pulled out her compass. She inched it out from beneath the bed until its face caught a squick of moonlight. . . .
Her eyes widened. The needle was pointing straightat the object, toward the bow of the ship. But they were headed south-by-southeast, not due north.
The mysterious object was magnetized. It
had
to be what Tesla had been looking for.
Deryn counted a thousand slow heartbeats before daring to turn over. She felt the canvas sack in the darkness, and when her fingers slipped inside, they touched a cool metal surface. Not smooth, like cast metal, but as knobbly as a piece of old cheese.
She tried to test the object’s weight, but it wouldn’t budge from the floor. Solid metal was barking heavy, of course. Even hollow aerial bombs took two men to lift.
What in blazes was this thing?
Dr. Barlow might know, if Deryn could get a sample somehow.
She remembered the chapter from the
Manual of Aeronautics
on compasses. Iron was the only magnetic element, and a great spinning blob of it at the earth’s core was what made compasses work. She rubbed the metal and sniffed her fingers, and caught a tang almost like fresh blood. There was iron in blood, too. . . .
And iron was much softer than steel.
She pulled out her rigging knife and slipped it into the sack. Her fingers searched until she found a weesliver jutting up from the object’s rough surface. Tesla was snoring by now, so Deryn began to saw away at the sliver, the canvas sack muffling the rasp of her knife.
As she worked, her mind spun with questions. Had Tesla’s weapon used a projectile of some kind and this was all that was left? Or had the electrical explosion somehow fused all the iron in the frozen Siberian ground?
One thing was certain—Mr. Tesla’s claim of having caused all that destruction suddenly seemed more credible.
At last the sliver broke free, and Deryn slipped it into a pocket. She stretched her muscles carefully one by one. It wouldn’t do for her legs to cramp as she was sneaking out of the room.
She crawled from beneath the bed and slowly stood, watching the rise and fall of Tesla’s chest as she pulled her keys out. The door unlocked with a soft
click
, and a moment later Deryn was in the corridor.
Alek stood there looking pale, a drawn knife in his hand. Bovril still perched on his shoulder, wide-eyed and tense.
Deryn put her fingers to her lips, then turned and relocked the door. With a beckoning wave of her hand, she led Alek to the middies’ mess. He followed, his expression still anxious, his eyes darting down every corridor.
“You can put that away,” Deryn said when she’d closed the door to the mess.
Alek stared at his knife a moment, then slipped it back into his boot.
“It was maddening,” he said, “standing out there. When that other man stayed so long, I almost burst in to make sure you were all right.”
“Good thing you didn’t,” she said, wondering why Alek was so twitchy tonight. “You’d have started a ruckus for no reason. And look, while I was hiding under the bed from that Russian, I found something!”
She pulled the shard of metal from her pocket and placed it on the mess table. It didn’t look like much here in the light, just a shiny black blob the size of Bovril’s little finger.
“That can’t be what Tesla came here for,” Alek said. “It’s too small.”
“That’s just a wee piece of it,
Dummkopf
. The rest is as big as your daft head.”
Alek pulled out a chair and sat at the mess table, looking exhausted. “That still seems
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