Free Perilous Journey of the Much-Too-Spontaneous Girl by Leigh Statham

top, but her heart bubbled and burst when the excitement of the deck and the expansive view overcame her.
    Men and bots, plus a few women, were everywhere, hoisting weights and coiling ropes as a fine mist from the gray clouds around them settled on their clothes and faces. They were all singing a working song in unison.
     
    Upon the air, we’ll fly our flag
    Upon the currents merry,
    And over shore and over land
    We’ll float our big brass belly!
     
    Sing Hey! Sing Ho!
    Shine up your gears
    and fill the envelope!
     
    Sing Hey! Sing Ho!
    Toss off your fears.
    The dawn is full of hope!
     
    Renegade!!
     
    Marguerite almost forgot to watch herself amidst this chorus of joy, dew, and sweat. Then she caught sight of Jacques across the deck, monitoring the progress and talking with another man of high rank. She quickly ducked behind a stack of flour sacks still waiting to be moved to the galley. Outil followed suit. “M’lady, do you mean to hide from him our entire journey?”
    “No,” Marguerite hissed. “But I don’t want him to see me when he can just pitch me over the side into the St. Lawrence without guilt.”
    “Hey there, lass! Give us a hand?” A merry crewman signaled for her to grab a rope he and four others were already pulling on. “Just coil up the extra there in a neat pile while we pull it on deck, will ya?”
    “Of course,” Marguerite was more than happy to be given something to do other than hide. She grabbed the wet rope—as thick as her arm—and started to coil it at her feet as neatly as possible. Outil stepped up next to the small group and pulled the rope with both hands so effortlessly the humans stumbled to the sides from the slack in it.
    “Well, now! That’s a bot I could live with!” the man cried and slapped Outil on the back.
    Having found themselves free from their burden, the others moved to help Marguerite coil—it was more than clear that she needed the help. The work was done in quick order, and the ship began to drift higher into the air, leaving Montreal far below.
    A cheer went up from the onlookers left at the port. Marguerite ran to the port side rail to watch the river and city shrink beneath her. She couldn’t suppress a gleeful smile and a bit of a yelp. Others soon joined her and began to wave and shout Au revoir! to those below. A loud roar burst through the cool morning as the engines came to life. A surge of steam shot from the stern and a horn sounded. The deck went wild with cheers. The Renegade was on her way.
    Outil joined Marguerite and pointed to three smaller war vessels of an older make that had also lifted their tethers and were following closely. “What do you suppose they are about?”
    An aerman standing next to them answered, “Those’ll be our partners for this trip. Gonna take more than one ship ta bring in the cargo King Louis’s sent this time.”
    “Seems a bit much, wouldn’t you say?” Marguerite questioned.
    “Oh no, my darling. You’ve obviously never encountered the southern buccaneers. It will take heaps more than this small fleet to stop them. There are also war vessels accompanying the supply lines. I only hope the Brits don’t get involved—those bloody technology stealing parasites.” The man spit over the rail and made an obscene gesture in the general direction of England.
    “Oh, my goodness.” Marguerite instinctively placed a hand on her face at the vulgarity. Outil immediately stepped between the two.
    “Sorry, ma’am. Meant no offense.”
    “Quite alright,” Marguerite replied, but Outil didn’t move. Overhead a loud whoosh caught their attention and the entire crew still on deck looked up. A huge sail was unfurled and caught the morning breeze, urging them to the east as the envelope full of helium pulled them toward the aether. The engines kicked in, and suddenly the ship turned port side. They began to pick up speed, headed straight for the Atlantic.
    The air was suddenly filled with the sounds of