Read Online The Privateer by William Zellmann - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: William Zellmann
Tags: Science-Fiction
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eyes twinkled and he leaned close "I would have paid thirty-five!" he murmured with a wide smile.
Cale smiled conspiratorially. "I'd have taken twenty-five." Both men laughed aloud as Cale left the shop. Cale hailed one of the rare animal-drawn cabs and headed for the shuttle port.
Both his transactions had been successful, and Cale now had over fifty thousand carats in diamonds of easily negotiable size. He could afford to live a luxurious life anywhere in man-settled space. In fact, on many planets, he would be the world's richest private citizen. It was time to do some serious planning. Did he really want to retire? Did he want to study law on Ilocan and settle in as a prominent attorney, able to pick and choose his clients? Or perhaps try to sneak into the Alliance, with its peacefulness and high living standard? He was surprised to find that he was reluctant to leave Scorpion . It would be hard to smuggle her into the Alliance with her weapons intact. And he still might need those weapons. He knew better than to underestimate Townley and his pirates.
Of course, there was his "plan B"; travel the Old Empire as a courier, offering high-speed transport of high value passengers and freight. It was tempting, but Cale knew that eventually one of those high value shipments would attract pirates. And successfully fighting one off would be almost as bad as being taken. Rumors circulate quickly in the interstellar underworld, and the last thing he needed would be to draw attention in pirate circles!
As L’rak pulled away from the orbiting station and headed for the jump point, Cale began to worry. Was Yan right? Did he really need a "plan C"?
He had to admit that retirement held no attraction for him. In his mid-thirties, he was far too young to just sit in one place and vegetate. Besides, people his age living luxuriously with no visible means of support attract the attention of tax and law enforcement authorities. Yan was right about one thing. He was not a businessman. Twice he had failed miserably at trade. He was not tempted to try a third time.
Cale had still reached no conclusions as he jumped. As the violent inside out, twisting sensations of entering jump faded, he heard a strangled retch from the tiny "cabin" behind his head. Astonished, he yanked the door open and a figure tumbled to the deck, retching and covered with vomit.
At first, it looked like just a bundle of rags, but as he drew his belt knife, it resolved itself into a girl or young woman, buried in a mass of petticoats and a huge overcoat.
She lay half on her side, still retching, though now vomit was no longer being produced.
Slowly the spasms faded, replaced by moans of misery. Despite his anger, Cale had to smile. He was very familiar with the effects a jump could have on the unprepared. He waited patiently as the retching turned to moans and finally to sobs.
Finally, he grabbed a reasonably clean wrist and jerked the girl to her feet. From Ararat, obviously. The white cap was askew, revealing coal-black hair. Most of the petticoats had settled, though her skirt seemed to be tangled in an Ararat man's greatcoat. Cale got the impression that the tear and vomit-stained face might be reasonably attractive, but in her current condition, he couldn't be sure.
Stowaways are nearly unheard of in space. For one thing, ship's ladings are calculated for mass to the last gram. So, they are usually detected long before liftoff. For another, even the stupidest groundhog should know that ship's provisions and air are calculated as closely as cargo. A stowaway could kill himself and everyone else aboard by using up their air while in jump.
Nothing and no one could leave a ship in jump space. For one thing, who or whatever was ejected would theoretically drift forever in jump space, a total nothingness that no one had ever been able to locate or identify. For another, the change in the ship's mass would mean she would never reach her target jump point. The
Cale smiled conspiratorially. "I'd have taken twenty-five." Both men laughed aloud as Cale left the shop. Cale hailed one of the rare animal-drawn cabs and headed for the shuttle port.
Both his transactions had been successful, and Cale now had over fifty thousand carats in diamonds of easily negotiable size. He could afford to live a luxurious life anywhere in man-settled space. In fact, on many planets, he would be the world's richest private citizen. It was time to do some serious planning. Did he really want to retire? Did he want to study law on Ilocan and settle in as a prominent attorney, able to pick and choose his clients? Or perhaps try to sneak into the Alliance, with its peacefulness and high living standard? He was surprised to find that he was reluctant to leave Scorpion . It would be hard to smuggle her into the Alliance with her weapons intact. And he still might need those weapons. He knew better than to underestimate Townley and his pirates.
Of course, there was his "plan B"; travel the Old Empire as a courier, offering high-speed transport of high value passengers and freight. It was tempting, but Cale knew that eventually one of those high value shipments would attract pirates. And successfully fighting one off would be almost as bad as being taken. Rumors circulate quickly in the interstellar underworld, and the last thing he needed would be to draw attention in pirate circles!
As L’rak pulled away from the orbiting station and headed for the jump point, Cale began to worry. Was Yan right? Did he really need a "plan C"?
He had to admit that retirement held no attraction for him. In his mid-thirties, he was far too young to just sit in one place and vegetate. Besides, people his age living luxuriously with no visible means of support attract the attention of tax and law enforcement authorities. Yan was right about one thing. He was not a businessman. Twice he had failed miserably at trade. He was not tempted to try a third time.
Cale had still reached no conclusions as he jumped. As the violent inside out, twisting sensations of entering jump faded, he heard a strangled retch from the tiny "cabin" behind his head. Astonished, he yanked the door open and a figure tumbled to the deck, retching and covered with vomit.
At first, it looked like just a bundle of rags, but as he drew his belt knife, it resolved itself into a girl or young woman, buried in a mass of petticoats and a huge overcoat.
She lay half on her side, still retching, though now vomit was no longer being produced.
Slowly the spasms faded, replaced by moans of misery. Despite his anger, Cale had to smile. He was very familiar with the effects a jump could have on the unprepared. He waited patiently as the retching turned to moans and finally to sobs.
Finally, he grabbed a reasonably clean wrist and jerked the girl to her feet. From Ararat, obviously. The white cap was askew, revealing coal-black hair. Most of the petticoats had settled, though her skirt seemed to be tangled in an Ararat man's greatcoat. Cale got the impression that the tear and vomit-stained face might be reasonably attractive, but in her current condition, he couldn't be sure.
Stowaways are nearly unheard of in space. For one thing, ship's ladings are calculated for mass to the last gram. So, they are usually detected long before liftoff. For another, even the stupidest groundhog should know that ship's provisions and air are calculated as closely as cargo. A stowaway could kill himself and everyone else aboard by using up their air while in jump.
Nothing and no one could leave a ship in jump space. For one thing, who or whatever was ejected would theoretically drift forever in jump space, a total nothingness that no one had ever been able to locate or identify. For another, the change in the ship's mass would mean she would never reach her target jump point. The
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