Forbidden Knowledge Read Free

best he could to face down the danger. “You’re bluffing.”
    “ You’re bluffing,” Angus retorted. “You aren’t going to file that charge. You don’t want to find out what I know. You never have.” Then he concluded happily, “Motherfucker.”
    Milos bit down on his nic. Because he was fastidious, he felt no desire to assault his prisoner physically. He didn’t want the sensations of Angus’ sweat and pain on his hands. Instead he keyed a command that brought the guards back. When they arrived, he instructed them to take Angus away. Then, abruptly, he became calm.
    The trembling was gone from his fingers as he dumped the actual recording from the computer and substituted his dummy. After that he stubbed out his nic, thinking, Filthy habit. I’m going to quit. Remembering that he’d made similar commitments in the past, he added, I mean it. Really.
    At the same time, in a part of his mind which had suddenly become a separate compartment, like a computer file that couldn’t be accessed without a secret command, he was thinking, Shit. Shitshit. Shitshit shit.
    He appeared quite normal and perfectly correct as he went down to Communications to make two or three tight-beam transmissions which weren’t recorded, couldn’t be traced, and might have been impossible to decipher if they were intercepted. Then he returned to his office and continued working.
    The recording of his session with Angus attracted no particular attention, and deserved none.
    Angus resumed his yellow-eyed and irreducible silence.
    On Com-Mine Station, nothing changed.
    Milos Taverner might as well have been safe.
    Nevertheless when the order came through to have Angus Thermopyle frozen, Milos heaved a sigh of entirely private and malicious relief.

CHAPTER        1
 
    M orn Hyland didn’t open her mouth from the moment when Nick Succorso grabbed her arm and steered her through the chaos in Mallorys to the time when he and his people brought her to the docks where his frigate, Captain’s Fancy , was berthed. His grip was hard, so hard it made her forearm numb and her fingers tingle, and the trip was a form of flight; frightened, almost desperate. She was running with all her courage away from Angus even though Nick never moved faster than a brisk walk. Nevertheless she clung to the zone implant control in her pocket, kept both fists buried in the pockets of her shipsuit to mask the fact that she was concealing something, and let Nick’s grasp guide her.
    The passages and corridors were strangely empty. Security had cleared them in case Angus’ arrest turned into a fight. The boots of Nick’s crew struck echoes off the decking: the knot of men and women protecting Morn from Station intervention moved as if they were followed by a suggestion of thunder, metallic and ominous; as if Angus and the crowd in Mallorys were after her. Her heart strained against her lungs, filling her with pressure. If anybody stopped her now, she would have no defense against a charge which carried the death penalty. But she fixed her gaze straight ahead of her, kept her mouth shut, clenched her fists in her pockets; let Nick’s people sweep her along.
    Then they reached the docks. Beyond the clutter of tracks and cables between the gantries lay Nick’s ship. She missed her footing on a power line and couldn’t use her hands to catch herself; but Nick hauled her up again, kept her going. Here the danger of being stopped was gravest. Station Security was everywhere, guarding the docks as well as the cargo inspectors, dock-engine drivers, stevedores, and crane operators. If Nick’s deal with Security fell apart—
    But nobody made any move to stop her, or the people protecting her. The station-side lock stood open; Captain’s Fancy remained shut until one of Nick’s crew keyed it.
    Nick took Morn inside, nearly drove her through the airlocks with the force of his grip.
    After the expanse of the docks, she had the sensation that she was entering a