"Suspect he told you that I have a habit of doing maintenance when I should keep watch?" Leslie asked. Clarissa nodded, guiltily, but Leslie didn't look upset at the revelation. "Can't say he's wholly wrong. Also can't say he gives enough time to maintaining the ship. But the Captain is subtle and sly, suspect he wants two people on watch without worrying either of us too much. And if he has two of us on watch, it's probably because he's gotten fleet reports from Volante about pirates being spotted around here."
                          
"Pirates?" Clarissa asked. "But they'd have to be in airships. And with weather like this we could see them coming from Olencia."
                          
"They'd hide in the forest. No airship in the skies is taller than some of these trees, it's the perfect place for an ambush. And since we're on the Monastery Job, Captain is particularly keen to avoid any trouble," Leslie said. "And so, I keep an ear out, and tend to our best way of dealing with trouble if we run into it."
                          
"Is this the Banshee?" Clarissa asked. She leaned forward to look at the machine, both confused and a little frightened by it.
                          
"It is. Monastery metallurgists made her. She's so much of a weapon we cover her up when we're at port. Rather not let anyone on that we have the most advanced piece of artillery under the sky," Leslie explained, as he moved over to another piece of the gun. 
                          
"Why do you call the gun 'The Banshee'?"  
                          
"Old folklore calls them a spirit whose scream heralds death. And she ain't a weapon we use, less me mean to kill with it," Leslie said.
                          
"Didn't you fire some kind of paint round at that pirate hunter earlier?" Clarissa asked.
                          
"Even that warning shot could have killed someone," Leslie said. He cursed under his breath and kept rubbing the metal. "Never liked the Monastery job. Don't get me wrong, I like travelling with you, and the Monastery pays in the kind of favours kings would ransom cities for. But I don't have the foggiest idea what that black box is that we're travelling with. And I don't like not knowing."
                          
"The captain doesn't share it with you?" Clarissa asked.
                          
"Nope. Says it ain't something most in the monastery know. And I can tell by the expression on your face that you don't know yet, either," Leslie said, and he stared at her for a long, quiet moment. "That actually makes me feel better."
                          
"Why is that?"
                          
"If the monastery keeps it secret from its own membership, it has to be serious. Makes not knowing a little easier to bear," Leslie said. He gestured to a part of the Banshee and held out a rag. "Come here and make yourself useful."
                          
Clarissa crouched down beside Leslie and looked at the gear he was oiling. "What are you doing?" she asked.
                          
"Mostly keeping the dust off. Cleaning also helps keeps me from thinking too much," Leslie said, getting quieter and quieter as he spoke. "Have to say, kid, you've been taking to airship life pretty well so far. Anita says you were the best assistant she's ever had in the engine room. Thinking about giving up the Monastery life?"
                          
"What!" Clarissa asked, surprised.
                          
"Wipe down that gear, would you?" Leslie asked. He pointed to a part of the machine near Clarissa's left hand and tossed a rag onto her lap. "Use a bit of grease, helps keep the threads from rusting up."
                          
"I, no, I haven't been thinking about it much," Clarissa admitted. "Just been trying to be useful so far."
                          
"Imagine that's what impressed Anita so much. Just saying, if you find the monastery ain't the path you want to walk, I'm willing to ask to find you a place here, least until you find the winds for your own sails," Leslie said.