Free Forbidden Knowledge by Stephen R. Donaldson Page A

had let her keep that much of her identity. Without it, she would never be able to use a UMCP—or Security—computer or communications network again. Even ED might not believe that she was Morn Hyland, Captain Davies Hyland’s daughter.
    “Wouldn’t it be better if I did that?” she offered, trying not to sound frightened. “I know verification codes they can’t argue with. And if they run a scan on my voice, they’ll have proof I’m doing my own talking.”
    Fortunately Nick didn’t have to think long about her suggestion. After a couple of moments he nodded once, stiffly.
    “In that case,” she went on, in a hurry to finish before she ran out of adrenaline and began to shake again, “I need to know what they want, what they think I’ve got—why they want me back.”
    Behind his threats Nick’s tone was sulky. “Lind, give us playback.”
    Lind knew his captain well enough to obey quickly. He danced fingertips across his console, and a flat voice slightly frayed by distance came over the bridge speakers.
    Although she had reason to think she was safe, Morn listened in dread, irrationally afraid to hear words that would doom her.
    The voice identified itself by name, position, and authorization code: apparently it belonged to Milos Taverner, deputy chief of Com-Mine Station Security. It specified Captain’s Fancy by name and registration. Then it said:
    “Captain Succorso, you have a woman aboard, UMCP Ensign Morn Hyland, active assignment UMCP destroyer Starmaster. She has evidence material to our case against Angus Thermopyle, Captain and owner, Bright Beauty. ”
    For completeness, the voice cited Bright Beauty ’s registration.
    “ Bright Beauty ’s datacore may have been altered. Datacore evidence against Captain Thermopyle is inadequate. We suspect a memory chip was removed. We suspect Morn Hyland has it in her possession.
    “Return Ensign Hyland to Station for questioning.
    “Acknowledge.
    “Repeat.”
    The voice began again at the beginning. Lind silenced it.
    “Is that true?” Nick demanded before Morn had a chance to gauge the scale of her reprieve. “Are you still working for him? Is he using you to smuggle the evidence away, so he can’t be convicted?”
    Morn could hardly think. A reprieve. A gift. Security didn’t know about the zone implant control. Nobody knew. Her secret was safe.
    “No,” she replied, forcing herself to talk in order to conceal her relief. “He never let me near his datacore. He didn’t give me anything. If he pulled a chip,” which ought to be inconceivable—not physically difficult, of course, but effectively useless—since it was impossible to know which chip contained what data, in addition to which the removal of a chip could always be detected, and removing a chip was enough of a crime to cost Angus his license to own and operate Bright Beauty , “he must have disposed of it himself.”
    “They can prove that themselves,” Vector observed unnecessarily. “They don’t need Morn’s testimony.” After a pause he added, “There’s no other way to tamper with a datacore. That’s the whole point of having them. If what they record could be changed, they wouldn’t be good for anything.”
    “So they’re lying.” Carmel had a penchant for assertive statements. “They have some other reason for wanting her back.”
    Unexpectedly Mikka put in, “No. That’s too risky. She’s UMCP. They can’t silence her. If we took her back, and she found out they were lying, they would be in shit up to their eyebrows. The tampering must be real. They just don’t know how it was done yet. They think maybe she can tell them.”
    “Or maybe,” Morn said to Nick, so giddy with relief that she was willing to take risks, “this is a smoke screen. Your connection knows you won’t take me back. He can say anything he wants. He’s trying to cover his ass.”
    Nick aimed a black glance at her, then looked away. After a moment, he started to laugh harshly.