However, the shipsuit was fun! It seemed a 'coverall' was a one-piece garment covering from shoulders to ankles. The three available were all too large for her, and she had to roll up the sleeves and trouser legs. Ha! Legs, not 'limbs'. Moreover, it was so freeing to wear trousers! No heavy, ankle-length skirt, no Lord-damned petticoats! She strode up and down the three-step length of the cabin until Cale told her to sit down, they needed to talk.
Cale watched with amusement as his 'guest' reveled in the newfound freedom of a shipsuit. Nevertheless, it was time to find out what was going on, and try to figure out what they could do about it.
The girl cleaned up well. He'd guessed well on the height and weight, about 155 cems and 52–55 kilos. Her black hair was shiny and well cared for. Pity it was so long. Obviously, it was important to her. But she was going to find it almost impossible to live with in space — especially aboard L'rak, with its cramped quarters. She was about 20 standard years old, he guessed. However, raised on Ararat, she would be as naive as a twelve-year-old.
She remained standing. "Are you going to ravish me now?" she asked in a calm tone.
Cale's jaw dropped. "Am I… See here, what do you think I am, some kind of monster?"
Her tone remained calm, her stare level. "You are an offworlder, noble sire. We are warned about your degeneracy and debauchery. Please do not hurt me. I will try not to resist. But please allow me to remove the shipsuit first, so it will not be damaged."
Cale was swept into gales of laughter. I took him several minutes to get himself under control. Finally, the hurt look on her face brought him to calmness. "Don't worry, I've sworn off debauchery for lent. And I'm taking the week off from rape."
"You mock me."
"No. Yes. Well, a little. I'm not mocking you, but the silly ideas Ararat leaves you with. Now sit down," he continued, "and let's talk. I promise not to attack you without at least knowing your name." He shook his head and sighed. "The first things we need to deal with are those damned Ararat manners. They drive normal people crazy!"
Her eyes widened. "But, noble sire, manners are what permit us to live together in harmony, without violence."
"Hmph," he grunted. "Everyone carrying a blaster gets the same benefit, without all the baggage. And it's not "noble sire." My name is Cale Rankin. And no, you will not call me "sire Rankin." You will call me Cale. And you are?"
She started to stand and curtsey, but he pushed her back into the co-pilot's seat. "I am Ruth Lordschild," she replied. "I am from the village of Salvation, some fifty kiloms from Yahweh."
"All right, Ruth Lordschild. Now, what the devil are you doing on my ship?"
Startled, she drew back from the anger that had suddenly entered his tone. "I… I have always wanted to leave Ararat, to see the wonders of the Lord's creation. Since there was only one person on your ship, I thought there might be room for a small girl." she straightened. "I'll work for my passage, nob… uh Cale," she flushed slightly before continuing. "I can keep the ship clean, and cook the meals, and… and…" she stopped as she realized there was very little ship to clean, and she had yet to see anything resembling cooking facilities.
Cale nodded. "I'll call you Ruth. You create real problems for me, Ruth. I'm on the run. People are chasing me, and this is not my ship. Well, actually it is, but only temporarily. I was planning to go to Refuge to trade. But Refuge is a wild place with no laws and free traders and pirates making deals. You'd end up kidnapped and aboard a slaver less than an hour after I dropped you there."
"I'm not afraid!"
He grinned. "I am, and you should be. But it looks like we are going to come out where I'd planned; at least I hope so. Luckily, I topped off the atmosphere tanks on Ararat, and those tanks are designed for two crewmen. But we're going to be short of water before long. So, when we emerge, I'm going to recalculate our course to skip Refuge, and head straight back to Torlon."
"Then you will leave me there?"
Cale shuddered. "Not a chance. One of the reasons I chose it was that it barely retains spacegoing capability; in fact, when L'rak 's original owner dies, I think spaceflight on Torlon will die with him. I wouldn't leave you on a planet sinking into barbarism."
Ruth frowned. "Then what will you do with me?"
"Lady, I haven't the slightest idea. I have another, larger ship waiting for me at Torlon. However, it doesn't really need a cook or cleaner, either. It has robots to handle those chores. All I can promise is to drop you off on a reasonably developed planet, with maybe some fake papers to make you legal. Then I will leave. You'll be on your own. Hopefully you can avoid the slavers, but you might still starve."
She shook her head. "I will not starve. I am a hard worker, and the Lord will provide."
"I hope so. For right now, though, we have to make it through this jump, and then on to Torlon. In the meantime," he continued, "you might want to consider cutting all that hair. There are reasons that spacer women wear it short."
"They do? Who are 'spacer women'?" Her face clouded up, looked ready to begin crying, then suddenly she straightened. "Do you not like my hair, Cale? I have always thought it my best feature."
"It's beautiful," he replied, "on Ararat, or on any planet. But you are going to find it difficult to care for in the small spaces on L'rak. Especially since we have no water to spare, and will have to be content with a bath a week."
She was shocked. "A week! But did our Lord not command us to bathe daily?"
Cale smiled. "Not that I know of. I know you think the Lord will provide, but until He provides unlimited fresh water, we will be bathing weekly. I suspect you will find your hair becoming oily and matted."
"You are mocking me again. I am sure I will survive."
He found that it was actually rather pleasant to have a companion to talk to. She peppered him with questions about worlds he had visited and all of man-settled space. Of course, she asked him about himself, and he found himself unwilling to lie to her for some reason, so he deflected her questions or simply refused to talk about it.
Finally, the countdown timer clicked down and L'rak emerged into normal space. Cale said nothing, but his relief was easily visible as he verified that they had indeed emerged at the proper recal point. While he struggled to make the computations necessary to change their course with L'rak 's simple astrogation comp, Ruth stared transfixed at the unfamiliar constellations adorning the heavens. For years, she had looked at the stars of Ararat's sky, trying to imagine that each of them was a sun, so far away as to be only a pinprick of light. Now, here was a whole new sky, full of thousands of new stars. Suddenly, she felt very small, very insignificant, and very alone. Her world was gone, a door closed on her past. She was on her way to an unknown future, and depending on a stranger, of whom she knew nothing. Correction. A stranger who refused to tell her anything about himself.
Cale sat back with a satisfied sigh. Ruth's presence was causing only minimal disruption. Oh, he'd had to skip his planned stop at Refuge, but that might be a good thing, not a problem. He had been worried about that stop anyway. Peng was a sneaky bastard, but he was basically a businessman who wasn't above a bit of larceny when the opportunity arose. But Refuge was a lawless haven for the dregs of society. There were people there who would kill you for the change in your pockets, and kick and curse you as you died for not having more. Cale had spent hours debating whether to go there. To be honest, he was relieved that Ruth's presence forced a change of plans. According to the astro comp, the course changes to divert back to Torlon were not significant.
However, the problem of Ruth was significant. What in space was he going to do with her? She was a young, attractive, — okay, very attractive — woman. But she was as innocent as a child. She had zero experience with men or with any cultures but her own insular cocoon.