Free The Privateer by William Zellmann

ship, too, would drift forever in jump space, her crew presumably slowly dying as the air and food ran out.
    Cale felt stupid. How did he ever miss an extra fifty-or-so kilos when the station reported L'rak 's departing mass readings? Well, at least the astrogation comp had included the extra mass in its figures. Hopefully. He'd know in about . . . eighty-four hours, when L'rak was supposed to emerge into normal space.
    Cale shook the wrist he was holding, furious at this fool of a girl. "Are you insane ?" he shouted.
    The girl shrank from his anger. "Yes." she replied in a tone muffled in greatcoat.
    That was the one response Cale had not been expecting. "What?" She pulled on her wrist, and in his surprise, Cale let go. She overbalanced and fell to the deck again. This time she struggled back to her feet, red-faced and flailing as she fought to remove the oversized coat.
    She threw the coat to the deck and stood, hands on hips, face angry. "I said, 'yes'," she spit out. "At least everyone on Ararat thinks I am!"
    Cale was regaining his mental balance. "I think so, too," he replied in a sarcastic tone. "Don't you know that every gram of mass aboard a ship must be accounted? Every cubic centimeter of air? You may have killed us both!"
    Her red face whitened and she looked stunned. "What? What?"
    "If your mass wasn't included in the ship's jump calculations, we'll never emerge from jump space," Cale shouted, emphasizing his words with punches of his index finger against her breastbone. "Not to mention the fact that we may not have enough air to even make it to the emergence jump point. L'rak may emerge with only two corpses aboard! If we weren't already in jump, I'd push you out the airlock!"
    Cale had thought he was prepared for any reaction, but he was wrong. The girl fell to her knees, bowed her head, pressed her palms together in front of her face, eyes closed, and began to murmur softly.
    Cale stood mouth gaping, speechless as the girl continued with what was obviously a prayer. After a moment, he rolled his eyes in disgust and returned to the pilot's seat, shaking his head, and trying desperately to remember how to make L'rak 's astrogation comp recall the mass figures it had used in the jump. If the comp had used the station figures, and those figures were accurate, they could still emerge in the right galaxy.
    He finally succeeded, and the comp had used the station's figures. He breathed a huge sigh of relief, just as he heard a stirring behind him as the girl rose to her feet. She squeezed herself between the two seats, and large, dark eyes regarded him with an unnatural calmness.
    "I'm ready," she said quietly.
    Cale rolled his eyes again. "Ready for what ?"
    "Ready to be put out the airlock," she replied quietly. "I have made my peace with our Lord, and I apologize most humbly, noble sire, for my actions and my lack of manners before. Now, having made my peace with you as well as the Lord, I am prepared for my fate."
    Rolling his eyes seemed to be becoming a habit. "Nobody is going out the airlock!" Cale exclaimed. He swiveled the pilot's chair to face the small open area that passed for a cabin. He waved irritably. "Get over there and let's get a look at you."
    She said nothing, but moved into the small clear space and stood quietly. The bulky Ararat clothing revealed little of her shape, but she was about 155 cems tall, and seemed to mass about 55 kilos. She seemed quite young, though it was difficult to tell under the vomit staining her face and clothing.
    Speaking of the vomit, the sour smell was beginning to permeate the tiny ship.
    Cale heaved a gusty sigh. "I don't suppose you know how to use a shipboard 'fresher? No? I thought not." He squeezed past her and opened the door to the rudimentary 'fresher. He showed her how to stand and let the sonics loosen dirt and dead skin, and then showed her how to don the air mask and seal herself inside the transparent bag while a brief soapy shower washed away what the