Free Forbidden Knowledge by Stephen R. Donaldson

tach.
    “That leaves only one other possibility.”
    “Are you sure you want to go on?” Nick asked conversationally. “You’ve probably said enough. I like your first explanation fine. After all, I must want to protect my ‘connection’ in Security. Assuming I really have one. The more I look like I’m running, the worse things look for him. Or her.”
    Morn didn’t stop. If he was warning her, she ignored it. “If you’re the kind of man who sells human beings to forbidden space,” she retorted, “you probably don’t care what happens to your connection. I’m worth losing a traitor or two for.
    “I like my second explanation better.
    “Maybe,” she said, “you’re a pirate—and maybe you aren’t. Maybe your reputation is fake, and piracy is just cover. Maybe you rescued me because you’re under orders.
    “It’s common knowledge that Data Acquisition is a euphemism for sabotage and trickery. I’m Enforcement Division—I don’t know anything about DA. But that’s Hashi Lebwohl’s department. I’ve heard rumors about him.” In fact, in the Academy she’d heard any number of rumors about Hashi Lebwohl. “He likes spies. He likes operatives who have access to bootleg smelters and shipyards and maybe access to forbidden space.
    “Maybe you work for him.”
    A low voice said contemptuously, “Shit.” No one else interrupted her.
    “That would explain how you were able to get what you wanted from Security—why they trusted you with Station supplies, why they let you go, why they let you have me.
    “In which case, maybe you took me so you can turn me over to DA—so they can find out what happened to Starmaster , or what I know about Bright Beauty. ” She’d accused Com-Mine Station of sabotaging Starmaster. If that report reached UMCPHQ, Min Donner—or possibly Hashi Lebwohl—might not trust Security enough to leave Morn at Com-Mine. “But you had to do it in a way that didn’t blow your cover—and wouldn’t ruin the case against him. If anyone ever found out he was arrested for a crime fabricated by the UMCP, he would be released, and the UMCP would lose credibility, authority.”
    Morn herself was dismayed by the concept. Almost from birth, her idea of the UMCP had included incorruptible honesty; integrity instead of treachery. But when she engaged Starmaster ’s self-destruct, she’d blown herself into a completely different set of presuppositions and exigencies.
    Grimly she concluded, “Your connection in Security is a UMCP agent. You aren’t going to send me back to Com-Mine because you don’t want me to tell anybody there the truth.”
    By the time she stopped, Nick was no longer looking at her. He’d fallen into a reverie, gazing at the blank screens as if he didn’t see them. The muscles of his face relaxed; they were almost slack, almost vulnerable, as they’d been when he slept. Nobody said anything, and Morn didn’t glance around. She kept her attention on Nick.
    Then Vector Shaheed broke the silence. “She’s got you, Nick,” he said calmly. “If you send her back now, she’ll be convinced you aren’t either a pirate or a cop. Your reputation will be ruined. You’ll probably cease to exist. Hell, we’ll all probably cease to exist.”
    Somebody above Morn muttered, “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” She ignored him.
    Darkness flushed into Nick’s scars as he glared at the engineer, but he didn’t retort. Instead he held Vector’s gaze until it became obvious that Vector wasn’t going to look down. Then Nick faced Morn again.
    He wasn’t smiling now. His expression was intense and congested, as if she’d thwarted or exposed him in some way. His threats were plain in his voice as he said, “Give me your id tag. I can tell them you aren’t coming back, but if I don’t give them your codes they’ll chase us for sure.”
    Involuntarily Morn winced a little. Nick’s manner scared her—and she didn’t want to give up her tag. Even Angus