The Perilous Journey of the Not-So-Innocuous Girl (20 page)

Marguerite could see huge storm clouds in the distance. They churned and danced with thunder and nearly constant lightning. Silhouetted against the brightly lit clouds in the night sky were three large dirigibles. A large spark lit the port side of one just before another
BOOM!
rocked the Triumph.

“What on earth?”

“Corsairs, mademoiselle.” Outil’s voice was flat. “You might also know them as pirates.”

BOOM! BOOM!
The ship shook and lurched. Vivienne moaned from her bed and rolled dangerously close to the edge.

“Outil! Brace her!” Marguerite remained on the floor, pressed up against the wall clutching her cricket.

“Yes, miss.” Outil took three confident strides to the bedside and knelt down, wrapping her arms around Vivienne, trying to keep her from rolling onto the floor.

Marguerite had been on rough sea and air voyages before but nothing like this had ever turned her stomach so tumultuously. She took a deep breath, waiting for the ship to steady.

“What are they firing at us?”

“Presumably air cannons, miss.” Outil stood to look out the window quickly, then kneeled back down.

“What good is firing air?”

“If aimed correctly, it throws the ships off course and disorients the instruments, without igniting the envelope gasses. It can also cause structural damage.”

“What are we to do?”

“I suggest we stay right where we are until we have directions from Captain Laviolette.”

At that very moment the communication speaker came to life on the cabin ceiling, booming:

“All hands to your stations. Passengers, please remain calm and in your cabins.” It was not Laviolette’s voice. “In the event of an emergency, there are flotation devices and parachutes located under each mattress. This is not, however, an emergency, merely an inconvenience. Please locate a safe place to be seated and remain calm.”

BOOM!

Another blast launched Marguerite from her position against the wall and blew the porthole completely free of the side of the ship. It flew across the room and shattered against the opposite wall, leaving a sizable dent and a hole spewing cold air.

Outil grabbed Vivienne to keep her from careening about like a rag doll, but she moaned at the rough treatment and lolled her head from side to side.

Marguerite jumped to her feet, tucking the cricket into the front of her dress, and reached for her goggles that had landed on the floor by the foot of her bed.

“We have to get out of here!” The wind was whipping through the gash in the wall, making it impossible to hear and stealing all warmth and protection.

“Agreed!” Outil shouted back. She carefully wrapped Vivienne in a blanket and easily lifted her off the bed, holding her like a large babe in arms.

Marguerite strapped her goggles on to her head, pushing them up to her hairline, and grabbed a shawl as she raced for the door, trying to make use of the momentary steadiness. She held the passage open for her bot and friend then slammed it shut against the breach as the loudspeaker came to life again.

“Code blue; 114 on level A. Please report to your stations. All hands, report to your stations.” It still was not Laviolette speaking. Marguerite wondered where he was.

“M’lady, I suggest we seek out other passengers to take shelter with.”

“Right, good thinking Outil, but I don’t know where the other cabins are and there doesn’t seem to be anyone else staying in this wing.” Marguerite tried the other doors spaced sporadically throughout the hallway. All of them were locked.

The ship swayed then, not like when it was hit with an air cannon, but as if it was being turned about abruptly. Marguerite and Outil swayed momentarily as well, holding the wall for balance. Then Outil stepped out to the left. “Follow me. I’m fairly certain I know where the other bunks are.”

They headed toward the dining hall, away from the bridge. Marguerite felt a sudden moment of insecurity; what if the other girls would not let them in? Surely the midwife would give them shelter.

They raced down the passages as quickly as they could. Now that it was stable, the ship was eerily quiet. Not a human soul was in the passageways. They passed two bots. One was carrying a rifle of some sort, which only heightened Marguerite's anxieties.

Suddenly the overhead lights dimmed and went out. They heard a scream somewhere far off.

“Outil!” They halted for a moment.

“It’s all right, m’lady, we are almost there.” The bot was calm and reassuring. “Put your hand on the wall and keep moving this way. You might also want to put on your goggles. I had a moment to work on them the other night. They might be functioning properly now.”

Marguerite had forgotten all about her headgear. She slid the soft leather over her eyes and pushed the activation button. The passageway suddenly came to life with a cool blue glow.

“They work!” she cheered. “Outil! You are magnificent!”

BOOM!

The ship rocked again; a beam splintered overhead and more screaming could be heard farther down the passageway.

“Watch out for the beam!”

“I can see it, m’lady. Master Claude outfitted me with night sensors for duties on the estate.”

Dear Claude. Would she ever see him again? Was this the end?

BOOM!

They both fell to the floor as another timber fell from the ceiling. Vivienne moaned.

“Outil! I don’t think this is a good idea! We must get out of here. It’s coming down on our heads!”

“M’lady, there is nowhere else to go, and what of the other passengers?”

Outil was right, they had the advantage of being able to see their way out of this now-crumbling labyrinth. The other girls were trapped by darkness and destruction in their rooms.

“It’s just down these stairs.” Outil easily led the way with Vivienne still in arms. They plunged farther into the belly of the ship, following the cries of 200 scared women. Another announcement blared above them.

“All hands to stations. Code blue and 114 on levels C, D, and F. Passengers, remain in your cabins and secure your emergency devices should we encounter a need, which is unlikely at this moment.”

Marguerite snorted. “If this isn’t an emergency, I would hate to see what is!” Then a beat later she cried, “Our parachutes! Outil, we left them in the room!” Marguerite couldn’t believe she forgot them.

“We will be able to secure some ahead.”

The ship swayed and rocked; more screaming could be heard ahead, closer now. They came to the first bunk door. Marguerite was surprised to see the red outline of huddled bodies beyond the entrance, yet the door was closed. “I can see them!”

“Yes, the goggles are fitted with heat-seeking displays; you should be able to see persons in red and inanimate objects in blue, no matter their location. The closer a person is, the brighter they will appear.”

Marguerite twisted the knob and pushed inside. A fresh chorus of screams awaited her.

“Calm yourselves!” She realized then that the women were hiding in pitch-black and had just had their door thrust in upon them. “It’s me, Marguerite Vadnay. I’m here to help you!”

The room was much smaller than her bedroom above. Two sets of bunk beds lined either wall with a stack of small trunks, half the size of her own, in the center. A small bureau by the door was crowned by a mirror, now hanging askew on its nail.

“Oh lovely, the princess herself is here to
save
us,” a strange voice cried out in the dark.

“Outil, there is nowhere to lay Vivienne, we have to try another room.” She ignored the hateful words and pressed back out the door.

Glancing through the wall, she could see that every bottom bunk was full. She stepped over fallen timbers and finally came to a room that was devoid of red glow.

“Here, Outil!” She opened the door and quickly realized it was a storage room filled with linens and towels. She made quick work of a large pile of blankets, spreading them out on the floor.

BOOM!

Another tremor knocked her to her knees but she pushed on, signaling for Outil to lay Vivienne down on the makeshift bed.

“We must find parachutes!”

“All hands to battle stations!” The voice boomed now, sounding much less calm and controlled. “Passengers, do not leave your quarters!”

“I’ll go back down the hallway looking for a room with empty beds, you search in here!”

“Yes, miss.”

Marguerite flew back into the hall, scanning room after room for less than four red life signs. If each room contained only four beds then that meant every room with four passengers had no parachutes to spare.

Finally she came to one where only three bodies were visible through the wall. She burst open the door, declaring herself as quickly as she could, trying not to cause alarm.

“It’s only me, Marguerite.” She decided to leave off her last name this time. “Do you have any parachutes to spare? We are missing three!”

A few girls jumped and squealed anyway, but one spoke up. “Oh! I thought you might be my sister Jocelyn.” Sadness rang in her words. “We can’t find her.”

“Wherever she is, she’s probably being well looked after. May I please have her extra parachute?”

“But what if she comes back?”

“Trust me, there’s no one out there.”

“How do you know? It’s black as night in here!”

“Just trust me! Where are the chutes?”

“You can’t have it! I won’t give it up. I have to keep it for her. She’ll come back for me and if she hasn’t got a chute then what will we do?” The voice was young and terrified. Marguerite could just make out the girl’s features in the red outline. She seemed much too young to be on her way to a marriage in a strange land.

“Fine. All right, I understand, but if she doesn’t come back, I need that chute! Where did she go anyway?”

“To the washroom, just before the first explosion. Do you know what’s happening?”

“It’s corsairs. They are hitting the ship with air cannons. Captain Laviolette should be able to outrun them and then we can all come out and relax. It will just take a little time.” It sounded more like a lie than it felt. She realized in her heart of hearts that she was hoping for exactly this. The Triumph was fast, but had they been caught unaware?

She pressed on, checking more bunks. She lost track of how many cabins there were on this level. It seemed to go on and on forever. Each room was filled with four huddled bodies already. Eventually she came to what appeared to be the washroom. Sinks lined one wall and personal relief stations lined another. She shuddered at the openness of it all. These women were living like livestock.

At the far end she could see where another timber had come loose from its fittings and crashed into the tile floor. There was water spraying from a broken sink but no sign of the girl’s sister. Perhaps she couldn’t get back and took refuge in another room.

The beam was not lying level on the floor. As she gazed at what might be holding it at the strange angle she realized it was not rubble, but the soft blue outlines of a human arm. She ran forward, forgetting about the water or her clothes.

As she got closer she could see the arm lolled out from under the large heavy beam, giving off only the faintest hint of blue glow instead of the bright red of the others. She touched it at the wrist, trying to find a heartbeat like she’d done as a child playing doctor. Nothing. Not even the faintest thrum.

She tried desperately to push the timber over, the whole time being sprayed by a fine mist of water. The timber wouldn’t budge. She cried out in frustration and despair while droplets ran down her cheeks. If this girl could die here, on this ship, thousands of miles away from home and thousands of feet above the earth, then they all could. It would all have been for naught.

She gave up on the timber and ran back to find Outil, a new fire lit within her gut. She called out to the bot, trying to locate her again and wiping droplets from her lenses.

“
OUTIL
?”

“Here, m’lady!”

BOOM! BOOM!

She stumbled as she followed the sound of the bot’s voice to their storage room.

“There’s a girl, she’s in the washroom, trapped under a beam. I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. You must help her!”

“Yes, m’lady.” Outil was off like a shot. Marguerite had never seen a bot move so quickly. She bent over Vivienne and breathed in her scent deeply, drying off her face on a corner of the makeshift bed, as the ship rocked and swayed again.

“Please don’t leave me.” Her hands dug through the folds of the blanket her friend was wrapped in until she came to her wrist. She gently pressed down on the veins, searching for hope. A steady, even beat met her touch and gave her a moment of relief.

BOOM!

A loud
crack!
resounded on top of the boom this time.

“The whole ship is going to split in two and we’re going to go down like sitting ducks!” Marguerite racked her brain, trying to come up with a plan. She knew from their location that the armory and bridge were just a few passages away. Along with that were the escape pods. She wondered if there were enough for all these women, men, and bots.