Forbidden Knowledge Read Online Free PDF Page A

habit; but it was good to refresh the habits, good to renew the priorities and necessities of command. In fact, most captains wouldn’t consider leaving the bridge until they were well outside station control space, beyond the likelihood of encountering other ships. Morn didn’t expect that much diligence from Nick Succorso; but she did expect him to make sure Captain’s Fancy got away clean before he turned over the bridge to anyone else.
    She would have that much time before he put her to the test.
    She was right. Whether he intended to or not, he gave her that time.
    When he came for her, she was as ready as possible, under the circumstances.
    She had to compartmentalize her mind to do it. Angus Thermopyle in one box; everything he’d done to her in another. The harsh death of Starmaster. Her gapsickness. Revulsion. Fear of discovery. Everything dangerous, everything that could paralyze or appall her, had to be separated and locked away, so that she could be at least approximately intelligent in her decisions.
    Willpower was like the zone implant: it dissociated mind and body, action and consequence.
    Angus had taught her that, too, without knowing it.
    When the door chimed, she felt a new shock wave run through her, the brisance of panic. Nevertheless by her own choice she’d entered a world of absolute risk, where nothing could save her except herself. Before her door opened, she reached under the mattress and hit the combination of buttons her life depended on. Then she rolled over to face the man who’d rescued her.
    Nick Succorso looked like he belonged in the romantic stories people told about him back on Com-Mine; like the stories were true. He had smoldering eyes and a buccaneer’s grin, and he carried himself with the kind of virile assurance that made every movement seem like an enticement. His hands knew how to be gentle; his voice conveyed a caress. Those things alone might have made him desirable. But in addition he was dangerous—notoriously dangerous. The scars under his eyes hinted at fierceness: they showed that he was a man who played for blood. When his passions made those scars turn dark, they promised that he was a man who played for blood, and won.
    He entered her room as if he were already sure that she could never say no to him.
    Morn Hyland knew virtually nothing about him. He was a pirate, a competitor of Angus Thermopyle’s; as illegal as hell. And, like Angus, he was male. In fact, the differences between him and Angus were cosmetic, not substantive. He’d only been able to trap Angus by making use of a traitor in Com-Mine Security. That was all she had to go on.
    Nevertheless she was in no danger of seeing him in romantic terms. She knew too much about what piracy—and maleness—cost their victims.
    But instead of nausea, or panic, or the deep black horror which had lurked in the back of her mind, waking or sleeping, since the destruction of Starmaster , she felt a yearning heat arise. Her blood became a kind of liquid need, and the nerves of her skin seemed to leap into focus like a vid scan. That sensation helped her raise her arms as if she wanted Nick to come straight into her embrace.
    He replied with a smile, and his scars intensified his eyes; but when he’d stepped into the cabin and locked the door behind him, he didn’t approach closer. He studied her hard, although his manner was relaxed. After a moment he said easily, “We don’t have any choice about heavy g. That bastard did us damage. My engineer says we’ve got a gap flutter. We might go into tach and never come out. If we want to get anywhere, we’ll have to use all the thrust we’ve got.”
    He paused; he seemed to want Morn to say something. Better sense than you think. But she didn’t respond. The problem of g could wait: it didn’t scare her now, not with this warm ache surging through her veins and every inch of her skin alive. As long as Nick was in her cabin, she was safe from gap-sickness.