Rue knew Percy well enough to realise that this was the best she was going to get out of him so she let herself out with as much dignity as possible. She did trip over a small stack of Beeton’s Englishwoman’s Domestic Magazine and Fashion Tips next to the automated hat cleaner in the hallway. Since he was entirely the opposite of fashionable Rue was mystified by their presence. One never knew why with Percy.

Thereafter, Rue spent the majority of her waking hours on The Spotted Custard supervising the hiring of the last of the deckhands and staff, meeting her crew, redecorating her chambers, and ensuring they had adequate stores for the journey. Scientists had recently shown that sunflowers were a great natural disinfectant of the poisonous humours in the upper atmosphere. Just to be on the safe side, Rue had twelve potted sunflowers brought in for the decks, fresh-cut placed in all the rooms, and dried clustered everywhere else. She even stocked seeds for regrowing or consumption, whichever seemed best. Sufficient puff pastry was also of paramount importance, although perhaps not so public a health concern. Lady Prudence Akeldama had quite the sweet tooth and it was impossible for her to imagine a journey of a week, let alone a month, without an adequate supply of custard and puff pastry.

This frazzled the cook. “It’s the milk we’ll run out of first, captain. It does tend to spoil.”

Rue considered the matter seriously. “I shall coordinate stopovers for milk restocking. We would have to regardless, for the sake of the tea. I require milk in my tea every day, several times a day.”

The cook wrung his hands together. “Yes, captain.”

“And cheese – Miss Tunstell loves cheese.”

“Of course, captain.”

“Prepare a list of perishable necessities not adequately covered by our admirable refrigeration facilities – one should be timed weekly and the other once a fortnight. Let me see what are our most limiting supplies and what I would have to endure if we are only able to make bi-monthly stopovers.”

“Yes, captain, but the fuel?”

“Is not your concern. Although I understand some of the empire’s outpost aether-stations carry both coal and milk.”

The cook gave a little bow. “Aye aye, captain,” and he ran off to tend to his lists.

A massive crash above distracted Rue from her galley coordination. “Great ghosts, what’s that?” Her exclamation was met with shrugs from the kitchen staff.

Rue marched topside. The loading gangplank was down and the main deck was crawling with confused crew. An entire flock of hats had landed and were nesting near the quarter deck. A massive overturned trunk and hatboxes rolling everywhere appeared to be behind the millinery invasion.

Primrose had arrived.

Or at least Primrose’s accessories had arrived.