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.Well after the code check at ~7oo, Ensign Kaplin drifted crosslegged in the dimly litcorridor by the space lock.Unimpressed by Jensen's bubbling elation, and unconcernedthat her hair needed fixing, she sullenly chipped enamel off a broken thumbnail.Herthoughts centered darkly around the admiral whose record was impeccable, but whosepast was anything but.Her future in the Fleet would become deadlocked as a result of thetape she had witnessed.The lieutenant was a fool if he thought the captive held trussed inthe lock bay was going to sweeten an admiral whose private shame had been leaked to thecrew of a minor class scout.As Kaplin saw things, MacKenzie James might never see trial;more likely he'd die of an accident, or someone would pull strings to set him free.Hehadn't gotten where he was without connections in high places.His record of success wastoo brilliant.213aaTTnnssFFffooDDrrPPmmYYeeYYrrBB22.BBAAClick here to buyClick here to buywwmmwwoowwcc.AAYYBBYYBBr rKaplin jabbed at her fingernail, plowing up a flake of purple lacquer.Jensen was anidealistic idiot, and Admiral Nortin a desperately cornered man; no need to guess who'dsurvive when the dirt inevitably hit the fan.A discreet tap at the lock door disrupted the ensign's brooding.She started and lookedup, saw the haggard face of MacKenzie James drifting by the small oval window.Hishands were bound; he'd managed the knock by catching the pen from the bulletin alcovebetween his teeth and rapping the end against the glass.'Damn,' Kaplin muttered under her breath as her grip slipped and mangled a cuticle.Shesucked at the scratch, pushed off from the floor grate, and, still cross-legged, peeredthrough the glass.'What do you want?'Other than a leak, she mused inwardly.If the stun drugs had just worn off, that's whatmost people wanted.Mac James ejected the pen from his teeth.'Talk,' he said, his succinctness blurred byechoes.He bunched his shoulders against the webbing Jensen had contrived to confinehim.The result would have tethered a bull elephant, Kaplin felt, but hell, she was only theensign.She unfolded elegant legs, set her shoulder against the lock, and lightly braced onthe door frame.'Should I listen?'James managed a grin.His forehead had somehow gotten cut during transfer from thebridge to the lock bay, and a bruise darkened the stubble on his jaw.'You might want to.'He tossed back tangled hair and added, 'I'd hate like hell to be left at the mercyof an admiral whose secrets were compromised.' Kaplin pursed her lips.'You're quick.'James's grin vanished.'Always.'The ensign considered her torn thumbnail, then elegantly unfolded her body andtapped the controls to her left.The lock unsealed, and a rush of cold air from the barrenmetal bay raised chills under her coverall.She shivered.'Speak fast.I'm not sure I shouldbe listening.''Be sure,' said James.'I can get you reassigned.To another division, under anotheradmiral, with a few less demerits on your record.'Kaplin regarded him carefully.Trussed hand and foot, his massive shoulders twistedback, James did not seem discomforted.His expression was much too confident.Hewatched, his eyes steely and level; as she noticed the scar over his right carotid artery, andasaaTTnnssFFffooDDrrPPmmYYeeYYrrBB22.BBAAClick here to buyClick here to buywwmmwwoowwcc.AAYYBBYYBBr rshe lingeringly weighed the rusty stains that remained of a Chalice mechanic that patchedhis threadbare flightsuit.He was a man who had seen death from many angles.Thepossibility the next might be his own failed to move him.'You'd have to free me, get me back to rendezvous at Kestra,' he finished in a voice thatwas dry with disinterest.A pirate should have owned more passion, Kaplin felt.The list of criminal charges didnot seem to fit with the man.She thought deeper, while those gray eyes followed; her handtapped involuntary tattoos on the railing.MacKenzie James, skip-runner, should havegunned the other crew down with Harris.His hold over the admiral was all he truly neededto commandeer Sail without questions.As her oval chin rose obstinately, Mac James seemed to follow her reasoning.'I didn'tkill Jensen because I need him.His obsession is a tool, invaluable because it's genuine.Aman's hatred is always more reliable than the best of laid plans.'Kaplin narrowed her eyes.'Who are you,' she demanded.'You'll tell the truth, or wedon't talk.'Now Mac James studied her.He no longer seemed boyish, or hardened, but onlyunnervingly perceptive.'I take orders from Special Services,' he said, his face like weather-stripped granite.'And my criminal record is genuine.I could be tried and convicted on allcounts, and no pardon would come through to save me.I am legitimately skip-runner,traitor, and extortionist, and because of that, I have served as the Alliance's contact todisclose the motives of the Khalia and, now, the Syndicate behind them.' A strange threadof weariness crept into the prisoner's voice.He tried, but did not entirely hide a ghost ofunderlying emotion.'Sometimes it takes a bad apple to know one.And through Sail'ssurviving officers, the Fleet is free to deal with what Van Mere's is actively covering.Marityis not involved, my cover is kept intact, and the Syndicate's best outpost is exposed tocounterespionage before anyone inside knows they're compromised.~He was not pleading, Kaplin decided.He was appealing to her loyalty on a higher level;loyalty to humanity above her oath to serve the Fleet.She considered what he had not said,the threats he had not outlined: that Marity was yet at large, that Sail was still a long andlonely distance from the nearest battle cruiser or station, and that the Special Servicesbranch ofaaTTnnssFFffooDDrrPPmmYYeeYYrrBB22.BBAAClick here to buyClick here to buywwmmwwoowwcc.AAYYBBYYBBr rIntelligence often stooped to ugly tactics to free its operations from interference.Fractionally, James shook his head.'Gibsen won't pursue.He's under my orders, and hewon't break.Not to spare me from arraignment.The Syndicate outpost was always ourtarget, whether I am sacrificed or not.'Kaplin chewed her lip.'Damn you,' she whispered into the echoing chill of the lock.'What about the interface cores? And the outright murder of Chalice station?'Now James lowered his lashes.His inscrutable expression cracked into a grimace ofwounding compassion.'The cores we traded were genuine.The thirty pieces of silver, as itwere, to confirm the presence of the enemy.And Chalice personnel, curse their bravery,defended their post with their lives.'Kaplin drew a shuddering breath.She bunched her hand and slammed the closurebutton; and the lock hissed shut, leaving the skip-runner and his haunted bit of conscienceto the solitary chill of the space bay.'Oh, damn you,' Kaplin muttered.'Damn you to deepest hell.' She needed a coffee, shedecided; and every other habit that was ordinary to quiet a vicious inner turmoil.For thefavor that MacKenzie James requested for the higher good of the Alliance was nothingshort of mutiny.As she left her post and propelled herself through null grav toward thegalley, she reflected that Jensen was going to dismember her.Lieutenant Jensen snapped awake to the realization that Sail's vibrations had changed.She was no longer traveling FTL, but powered by her more obtrusive grav drives [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]