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.
She tried to recall the image of the room filled with small boats stacked on top of one another. If they could fit eight persons per boat they might have a chance, but she wasn’t positive. Just then Outil appeared in the doorway holding a limp body.
“Is she alive?” Marguerite’s heart swelled just a bit.
“I’m afraid not, miss.”
Silence filled the void.
BOOM!
Outil nearly toppled over.
Marguerite came back to the moment. “Let’s take her to her sister. Vivienne will be all right for a moment.”
The pair rushed back to the room containing only three girls. They pushed open the door once again and Marguerite called out: “We found your sister.” She spoke as cautiously as she could. “I’m afraid she did not make it through the blasts.”
“No!” the young voice cried in anguish.
As the girls sprang up to meet the unhappy news, Outil laid the body down on a now vacant bottom bunk.
“I’m so sorry,” Marguerite whispered. “We need to take that parachute.”
“She can’t be dead! She can’t be!”
Outil felt under a bottom bunk and pulled out a small package, then spoke in her soft mechanical voice. “You should all get your parachutes out and have them at the ready. We do not know which way this battle will turn, as of yet.”
“No!” The other girls wept and murmured while one felt her way to retrieve her chute.
“Do you have it?” Marguerite turned to Outil. The ship seemed to drop out of the air a few feet and everyone was slammed up against the side of one bunk.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
“We’ll come back for you! I promise!” Her declaration was met with only sobs.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Ladies and gentlemen.” The voice was cracked and barely scratching through the broken communication pipes now. The lights still hadn’t come back on and the ship was almost constantly lurching. “We have experienced a hull breach. This is not the same level of emergency as it would be with a sailing ship, but it does cause an aership to lose speed. We are requesting that all passengers bring their parachutes and make their way with much caution to the dining hall to await further instructions.”
Marguerite and Outil huddled together with Vivienne in the storage room, one chute between them and no idea what was happening above.
“What do you think they mean to do with us?” Marguerite was still racking her brain for something to do, some way to help.
“I imagine they finally realized what we are dealing with down here and have decided to relocate us to a more stable level of the ship.”
“Can you carry Vivienne? No one is going to be able to see but us, we’ll have to guide them all.”
“I can manage Miss Vivienne easily.”
“Good. You go ahead and light the way as best you can for the others. Can you activate my cricket for me? I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before!”
“Yes, miss. You can activate it yourself. Just press the buttons simultaneously on its underbelly. I have a floodlight I can project for those following me.”
“Good, let’s go.” Marguerite paused. “Outil, take the chute for Vivienne and yourself. I’ll find another one, hopefully two more.”
“Miss, I am not comfortable with that plan of action.” Outil’s voice was lined with concern.
“It doesn’t matter, it’s an order. Take it.” She shoved the chute between the bot’s chest and Vivienne’s limp body.
“Yes, miss. But I formally state my objections.”
“Noted. Now go!”
The hallway was already filling with distraught and disoriented passengers trying to feel their way through the debris and guess the direction they should be going. Outil stepped into the throng with Vivienne in her arms then activated her light.
“Oh!” A cry went up from the crowd.
“Please follow me.” Outil’s voice was steady and strong. The girls complied willingly.
Marguerite took the cricket out of the front of her dress and felt for the two buttons, pressing them firmly, and delighted as the eyes filled with a beautiful light, bright blue through her goggles.
She stepped into the hall as well and motioned for girls to move in the direction Outil was heading as she forced her way against the flow and checked each room for glowing red forms.
She paused at each doorway, admonishing them to hurry and pointing the way that they should go.
“Be sure to get your chutes!” she cried over and over again.
Once she reached the end of the passage she recognized a familiar sign on the wall. There was a stairway and the sign for the bridge pointing up. She looked for a moment toward the stairs and then back down the hall filled with girls slowly picking their way toward the dining hall. Every room had been checked, it would only take a moment.
Just a few minutes and I’ll be back, she thought.
Marguerite extinguished her cricket and tucked it safely back into her dress then bounded up the stairs two at a time, holding her skirts just as she had when she was a child. At the top, she realized she was in familiar territory again. Jacques had taken her this way on their tour. She turned left and headed toward the bridge.
A cold wind hit her face, signaling another breach. She could hear frantic shouts ahead.
“About! Turn her about again! Where are the bots? Get them to the hold and make sure those good-for-nothing stewards are armed and ready!”
“Jacques!” Marguerite turned the corner and beheld a scene of complete chaos. People and bots were jumping from one station to another; Jacques was in the midst of them all, barking out orders to someone on a talking device and to those in the room.
“I’ll be hanged if I’m going to let a bunch of thieving pirates take my first commission!”
“Captain, another grappler has landed on deck!”
“Well shoot the bloody thing down! Why can’t we get a hold on these bastards?”
Marguerite took two steps back to retreat. Clearly there was no place for her here. She would be in the way if she interfered. But she was too late.
“Sir, behind you!”
A bot had spotted her and drew a weapon; she ducked behind a wall. Why was the fool thing aiming at her?
The goggles. She must look like a lady corsair! She slid them to her neck just as Jacques rounded the corner, pistol drawn and cocked.
“Marguerite?” He holstered the gun immediately. The look of shock on his face was priceless.
“I … sorry, I … ”
“What in blazes are you doing here? You should be in the dining hall with the other women!”
“I just came to see what was happening. We evacuated the women from the bunks below. They should all be assembled in the hall now.” She paused then, thinking of the poor girl in the mangled washroom.
“What are these?” He flicked at her go
ggles and turned back to shout another command at the bridge.
“Night vision … never mind. It’s pitch-black down there. No one can see. You think they’d design these bloody new ships with emergency lighting or some sort of skylight pipes for lower decks. Outil and I had to help them make their way. There are beams down everywhere and … ” She was starting to sound hysterical. She took a deep breath before pronouncing her next sentence. “A girl is dead.” She choked on the words and sputtered a bit, trying to catch her tears before they spilled over. “Crushed by a beam.”
Jacques pulled her to him quickly and held her so tightly she couldn’t breathe.
“My dear Marguerite, you are worth a thousand of these bloody sailors.” He pushed her back, holding both shoulders, and looked in her eyes. “Listen to me, we are going to be just fine. I need you to go back to the dining room.” He turned and yelled back into the bridge, “Marshall! Get me another talkie!”
A bot sprang from its seat and retrieved a small black speaking device from the wall and handed it to Jacques.
“Set this to channel fourteen and listen for me. I’ll give you instructions as things progress. If anything happens, meet me by the evacuation pods.”
“All right.” Marguerite was shaking slightly but took the talkie and held it firmly in her hand.
“We’re going to be just fine. Trust me, I’ve done this a thousand times. Corsairs are no match for the Triumph.”
“Yes.” She sounded ridiculous agreeing with him out loud when her heart was screaming: No! We aren’t going to make it!
“Captain!” A cry from the bridge broke their gaze.
“Go, Marguerite! Go! This way is faster!” He pointed down the hallway to her now demolished room and gave her a little push as he jumped back to the helm.
Marguerite didn’t waste any time. She pulled her goggles back onto her eyes and ran into the darkened hallway. As she passed her room she paused for a moment, wondering if there was anything she should take now that she had the chance.
“The parachutes! Of course!”
She ripped open the door and was blasted by cold air and light. She paused at the entrance. The hole where her window had been was no longer open to the endless blue sky, another aership was flying close enough beside them to almost block the opening completely. The wood was old and weathered. There were no openings and no leather shields, but she saw dark metal machinery in the form of strange concentric circles that could only be an air cannon. She dove between the two beds, hoping not to be noticed and started scavenging for the emergency packets.
The Perilous Journey of the Not-So-Innocuous Girl Page 15
