The Perilous Journey of the Not-So-Innocuous Girl Read Free

all along this could be a possibility; she just never dreamed it would happen this way. She knew better than to push the matter further. Still, the truth burned in her chest like a hot coal.
    He smiled and walked on. “You’re going to be fine. I promise. I’ve already got a plan in place.”
    Vivienne came running back down the lane. “What’s going on? Why are you walking so slowly? We’re going to run out of daylight hours.”
    “Claude is going to New France.” Marguerite couldn’t believe she said the words out loud. They felt wrong. Her whole person felt wrong. Any giddiness from her earlier mutiny against her governess had been squashed flat like a toad on the highway.
    “New France? I wonder how the food is there?”
    Marguerite rolled her eyes and Vivienne continued to talk about the possible conveniences of the new land as they approached the forge where Claude did most of his work. It was a large and very modern building. The outside was lined with shiny tin siding, making it look almost like a machine itself. Inside, the ceiling had alternating glass panels allowing for natural light alongside what artificial light the man-made lamps could generate. The walls were lined with shelves and work benches. Tools were stored with a system, but a newcomer would never know that from a glance. It seemed to be a scene of utter chaos. A few bots and one other human worked steadily at the tasks in front of them, easily grabbing what they needed from various hooks and shelves scattered around the large open room.
    A female automaton that Marguerite had never seen before stood at attention by Claude’s main workbench. Gleaming silver trays and copper dishes were lined up beside her. She’d obviously been hard at work polishing them.
    “This looks lovely, Outil!” Claude cried. “Marguerite, I’d like to introduce you to Outil. She’s my latest invention.” He beamed like a father presenting his newborn daughter.
    Marguerite was confused. “I thought you said you wanted me to meet some one . This is just a bot.” She turned to the machine, looking it over closely.
    The automaton stood taller than Marguerite, almost as tall as Claude’s six-foot frame, and cast its bronze eyes into the distance as was protocol. Its outer panels were cast in a fine bronze alloy that was polished to a mirror shine. You could see the gear-work at her joints, perfectly oiled and of much finer craftsmanship than typical plantation bots. Her shoulders were capped with the usual light panels for converting any light source to power and her face had decidedly feminine features. Most bots were gender-based for novelty’s sake more than anything else, but this bot seemed even more feminine than what one would usually expect. Marguerite almost felt like she should be wearing a skirt of some sort.
    “She’s top of the line, state of the art, best of the best. Anything you need, she can deliver. She’d make a perfect lady’s maid if you could talk your father into letting bots work in the house full-time, but she also has a new feature I’ve been working on for outside jobs. See here.” Claude pointed to one of the open joints in the automaton’s elbow. “Feel this.”
    Marguerite reached out and touched her slender finger to the opening. Instead of cool metal she felt an almost warm, synthetic substance. “What is it?”
    Claude beamed like a little child. “I call it clearcoat. I modified an epoxy formula I’ve been working on and combined it with a few other ingredients to form a waterproof barrier I can apply to all the bots. It should cut down on the need for constant oiling and rust-wear in the wet seasons.”
    “Why would you need to prove anything to water?” Vivienne had her head tipped sideways as she stared at the bot.
    “It’s brilliant, Claude. Really brilliant.” Marguerite wished she could enjoy this moment of triumph with her friend fully, the way she would have if he hadn’t just told her he was leaving on