The first shell landed at the edge of the compound, sending a length of barbed wire fence flailing and coiling in the air. A cloud of dust rolled outward from the explosion, and Alek heard pieces of torn metal hitting the rooftops around him.

He cupped his hands against the glass as the dust cleared, and saw the attacker striding through the trees—a smaller walker, a four-legged corvette. Two searchlights bore down from the Leviathan, revealing the deck gun on the machine’s back, its barrel spilling smoke.

“Mr. Tesla,” Alek called. “Perhaps we should evacuate.”

“Your British friends may have deserted us, but I shall not abandon my life’s work.”

Alek turned. Tesla’s hands were on the levers on the central bank of controls, his hair sticking out in all directions. Sparks flew about the room, and Alek felt the air humming with power.

“You haven’t been abandoned, sir!” He pointed at the window. “The Leviathan’s still here.”

“Can’t you see they’re too late? I have no choice but to fire.”

Alek opened his mouth to argue, but another boom sounded in the distance, and the shriek of the incoming shell sent him into a crouch. This one landed inside the compound, throwing dirt and debris against the control room windows.

Suddenly the night turned red outside, the Leviathan’s searchlights changing color, and then glimmers of metal were streaking from the sky. The men on the deck of the walker twisted and fell as the fléchettes struck home. A moment later the gun was unmanned, rolling from side to side with the machine’s gait.

The metal rain swept closer and closer, slicing through trees and sending up clods of dirt. As the torrent dwindled, one last fléchette hit the window with a smack. A crack slithered across the glass, and Alek scrambled a few steps backward, but the attack had ended.

He cleared his throat, willing his voice to stay firm. “The Leviathan has silenced that German gun, sir. We can stand down.”