Page 24 of Commander’s Mate

Her words translated a heartbeat late.

Three others joined her panic.

The soldier reached instinctively for the closest woman’s shoulder.

She screamed.

He froze.

Before I could move, Harper pushed through the cluster.

She wore one of our inner shirts, too large through the shoulders and falling nearly to her knees. Her hair was tangled. Her face was pale. She looked exhausted.

She also looked furious.

“Don’t touch her,” she told the soldier.

He jerked his hand back. “I was trying—”

“I know. Don’t.”

Harper turned to the woman beating the bulkhead.

“I need you to look at me.”

The woman did not.

Harper moved to the side instead of blocking her.

“You don’t have to stop being scared,” she said. “But the door isn’t locked because they’re keeping us in.”

The woman struck it again.

Harper looked at the Farseek technician.

“Can you make it open?”

“Not until pressure equalizes.”

“How long?”

“Forty-three seconds.”

Harper nodded. “Tell her.”

“I did.”

“No. Tell her the number.”

The technician stared.

“Forty-three seconds,” Harper repeated. “People can survive forty-three seconds if they know it ends at forty-three.”

The technician understood.

He crouched where the woman could see him and held up both hands.

“Forty-one seconds now.”