Imperial Clock (The Steam Clock Legacy) by Robert Appleton

posts the girls, paired together without any real experience of map-reading, had had to find. Not one pair had completed the course, though the McEwan girl and her partner, Carice Rijkaard, had come closest, missing only one of the checkpoints. The girls were all fagged, damp and miserable after the hike, and to top it off Mrs. Prescott had lambasted their slovenly performance—a completely uncalled for dressing-down, in Derek’s opinion.
    As the assist ant biology teacher at South Hampshire Grammar, he knew most of the faculty pretty well. While Mrs. Prescott possessed formidable leadership abilities as Deputy Head, she also had a tendency to push her staff and students beyond their limits in terms of homework and performance, as though she were on a ceaseless character-building crusade for the entire school. No one could quibble with the exam results—SHG’s ranked among the highest in the country—but nor could it be said the staff room was a particularly pleasant place to be. Competition between departments, too much paperwork, rigid curriculums, a clear division between the Prescott acolytes and those who simply put their heads down and got on with the job, churning out obedient, studious, clever, untouched souls year after year for a mediocre salary; frankly he was glad to be leaving.
    “ How far now, Auric?” Eustace Challender, Deputy Head of Political Education and at thirty-two the second youngest male teacher at SHG after Derek, strolled ahead, arm-in-arm with his wife Wilhelmina, an arts and crafts teacher. Neither of them looked Derek in the eye.
    “ Just over the next rise,” Derek replied.
    “ About time, I reckon.”
    “ I beg your pardon?” Derek almost crushed the compass in his hand in frustration.
    “ No more navigating hiccups, pray?”
    “ No, let’s hope not...” You fat, pompous arse. Let’s see you do any better. Eustace had barely done a hand’s turn these past two days, but loved lecturing others on the importance of teamwork—oh, how he loved to lecture. A loud, obese market vendor of a man, he epitomised everything Derek disliked about the Prescott lickspittles, from his Yes, ma’am, no ma’am, three bags full ma’am demeanour whenever she addressed him, to his bullying nature in the classroom.
    His fat her had worked in the Leviacrum tower, but despite a burning desire to follow in his footsteps, Eustace had not demonstrated a comparable flair for the sciences. This had made him bitter and jealous of those who did get accepted, including Derek, whose Leviacrum apprenticeship would begin in the next semester. A rather prestigious situation, too, in Professor Coleman’s revered, secretive human biology department. A Newton’s Trust bronze medal would be Derek’s on completion of the three-year apprenticeship, which would open all sorts of doors within the establishment—potentially limitless promotion prospects.
    If only he weren ’t so ambivalent about the placement. For his family, it was the highest honour an Auric had received in a long time, and they were immensely proud of him. He would accept the position for that reason alone, even if his own personal proclivities chafed against the unwholesome rumours that persisted in most Leviacrum matters, particularly its corruption of the justice system to further its own ambitions. Powerful stuff, much of it unsubstantiated, yet if the old adage was true about there being no smoke without fire, the whole of London ought to be ablaze.
    The gossip followed him everywhere he went—street corners, pubs, prize fights, the social club, even on school outings with sheltered young women. Sonja McEwan had let slip more than a few risqué condemnations of the empire, much to her classmates’ annoyance. Impressive girl, proud and full of vinegar. But she was the least popular student in her class for that reason. And if the objections of one schoolgirl could stir up such a hornet’s nest—Mrs. Prescott and the Challenders had