Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

see any people.” But what other reason to come up from beneath to snatch a ship? “It’s a good strategy, if so.”
    “Like a whale attacking a seal,” Annika said.
    Vashon nodded. “Do you see any survivors?”
    “Only crates, a few timbers.” His telescopic lens showed little else. His thermal lens revealed less. If a sailor had dropped into the water, he might not appear much warmer than his surroundings. “A man could be clinging to the other side of one.”
    “Thank you. If you ever give up vulcanology, Mr. Kentewess, I will take you on as a lookout.” Vashon clapped him on the shoulder, and called as she walked away, “Forward and on! We’ll fish out any survivors. Fire up the generator! I want a rail cannon on that water.”
    Aviators ran to carry out her orders. The quartermaster shouted into the bank of pipes, alerting the rest of the ship. Dooley joined them moments later, shaking his head.
    “We’ve just heard. Is it true? A whale swallowed a ship?”
    “A submersible did.” He glanced at Annika, who still stood wide-eyed and dumbstruck, her fingers gripping the gunwale as she searched the water for survivors—or another glimpse of the whale. “We’re almost over the site now.”
    They all looked over. Floatsam bobbed in the water. No men clung to any of the crates.
    A shadow rose beneath the water. A trail of bubbles preceded it, collecting at the surface and washed away by the rolling sea. Beneath the huff of the engine, the deck had gone deathly quiet. Aviators lined the rail, waiting.
    Annika’s mittened hand covered his. David froze. She folded her fingers over the back of his gloved hand, their tips curlinground to his palm—holding on as anticipation mounted. Heart pounding, he stared at her profile, watched her full lips part on a gasp. Her fingers tightened, and he felt the impression of each one through the thick wool, the strong clasp of her middle fingers, the soft pressure of her smallest.
    Almost dizzy with the unexpected pleasure of it, he followed her gaze down. The top of the whale’s head surfaced, revealing steel sheets riveted like an old ironship hull, so broad that an airship twice Phatéon ’s length could have landed on the head without wetting its keel. The rest of the body floated beneath the water, the water churning above the tail.
    With a hiss, a circular plate near the front opened like a blowhole. Steam billowed out.
    Astonished murmurs rose around them. A tremor shook Annika’s fingers.
    “Ships and airships.” She looked up at him suddenly, eyes wide with alarm. “Lisbet said that ships and airships had been disappearing. Captain Vashon!”
    Pulling away, she ran for the quarterdeck. The whine of the electrical generator sounded. The deck crew mounted the rail cannon.
    Too late. In a burst of steam, a harpoon launched from the blowhole. Aviators shouted, ducked. David forced himself to wait, to see what happened.
    Tipped by a barbed steel head and trailed by a long chain, the massive spear hurtled past the cruiser, ripping through the metal fabric of the envelope and piercing the side of the balloon.
    “Dear God in Heaven protect us,” Dooley breathed.
    Chaos erupted on the deck. David glanced back, searching for Annika, and saw her racing toward the warmers. Vashon shouted for everyone to toss over their lamps, their cigarillos, to stop all fires on the ship.
    With a winding clack , the chain drew tight. David braced hishands against the rail, prepared for the jolt as it dragged them down. It didn’t come. The spear slipped out, fell onto the submersible’s head with a loud clatter. The winding continued, pulling the harpoon back into the blowhole. David glanced up. A narrow hole remained in the metal fabric, the ragged edges fluttering as the hydrogen escaped.
    He hoped to God all of the flames were out.
    For a breathless instant, he waited, but they didn’t explode. The balloon would slowly deflate, instead, the ship sinking onto the water. Below Phatéon , the whale submerged again—to wait, David realized, like a predator that lamed its prey and waited for it to fall.
    Vashon strode to the side of the ship, looked up. For a long moment she stared at the balloon, her jaw clenched. Grief passed through her expression, her face closing in on itself; then she opened her eyes and issued orders in a voice like iron. Aviators scattered.
    Annika raced toward him, fear and determination tightening her features. She glanced at Dooley, indicated