Also by Scott Westerfeld The first book in the trilogy ... - Webgarden

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“Perspicacious,” the creature said.
When Klopp was finally ready, Alek used the switchboard to call for a steam elevator. A few minutes
later the four of them were downstairs and headed across the lobby.
The hotel was bustling, and no one stared at their clothes or asked why they were carrying toolboxes.
Alek dropped the key off at the desk, and the doorman saluted smartly as he led them all outside. One
thing could be said for Istanbul, people minded their own business here.
Several of the city’s scarab beetle taxis were waiting, and Alek chose the largest. It had two ranks of
passenger seats, the rearmost big enough for Klopp’s ample frame. Alek climbed into the front rank with
Deryn, then handed the pilot some coins and told him the name of Zaven’s neighborhood.
The man gave him a nod, and then they were off.
Above the noises of the street, Alek heard a rumbling from the birdcage. It was Bovril imitating the
walker’s engine. He leaned down to shush the beast, then slipped the small, heavy satchel under the seat.
“A lot of soldiers about,” Bauer said. “Is it always this way?”
Alek looked up, frowning. The walker was striding down a wide avenue lined with tall trees. Ottoman
soldiers stood on either side, forming themselves into double ranks. Most were in dress uniforms.
“I’ve never seen this many,” he said. “Perhaps it’s a parade.”
The taxi was slowing now, the traffic growing heavier. Ahead of them a cargo walker in the shape of a
water buffalo began to belch black smoke, and Klopp made a rude comment about poor maintenance.
Hot steam clouds billowed from the surrounding engines, until the four of them were all tugging at their
new clothes.
“Sir,” Bauer said softly, “something’s going on up there.”
Alek peered through the water buffalo’s exhaust. A hundred meters ahead a squad of soldiers was
stopping every vehicle that passed.
“A checkpoint,” Alek said.
“Foreigners are meant to carry passports in this country,” Klopp said softly.
“Should we get out and walk?” Alek said.
Klopp shook his head. “That’ll just make them curious. We’re carrying these toolboxes … and a
birdcage , for heaven’s sake.”
“Right,” Alek sighed. “Well, then, we’re tourists who’ve left our passports at our hotel. And if that
doesn’t work, we can bribe them.”
“And if bribery doesn’t work?” Klopp asked.
Alek frowned. They were carrying too much to run, and there were too many soldiers here to start a
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