Memory Read Online Free PDF

a trick like that, why should Illyan? Unless Illyan . . . isn't presented with the problem in the first place."

    "Great and little gods, you're not thinking you can still conceal this, are you?"

    "It drops out of this mission report quite neatly."

    She pushed back from him, aghast. "Your brains did get frostbitten."

    Irritated, he snapped, "Illyan cultivates his reputation for omniscience quite carefully, but it's hype. Don't let those Horus-eye badges"—he mimed the ImpSec insignia by holding his circled thumb and fingers up to his eyes, and peering through owlishly—"affect your mind. We just try to look like we always know what we're doing. I've seen the secret files, I know how screwed up things can really get, behind the scenes. That fancy memory chip in Illyan's brain doesn't make him a genius, just remarkably obnoxious."

    "There are too many witnesses."

    "All Dendarii missions are classified. The troops won't blab."

    "Except to each other. The story's all over the ship, half-garbled. People have asked me about it."

    "Uh . . . what did you tell them?"

    She shrugged a shoulder, angrily. "I've been implying it was a suit malfunction."

    "Oh. Good. Nevertheless . . . they're all here, and Illyan's way over there. A vast distance. What can he learn, except through what I tell him?"

    "Only half-vast." Quinn's bared teeth had little in common with a smile.

    "Come on, use your reason. I know you can. If ImpSec was going to catch this, they should have done it months ago. All the Jacksonian evidence has obviously escaped them clean."

    A pulse beat in her throat. "There's nothing reasonable about this! Have you lost your grip, have you lost your frigging mind ? I swear to the gods, you are getting as impossible to manage as your clone-brother Mark!"

    "How did Mark jump into this discussion?" It was a bad sign, warning of a precipitous downhill slide in the tone of the debate. The three most ferocious arguments he'd ever had with Elli were all over Mark, all recently. Good God. He'd avoided—mostly—their usual intimacy this mission for fear of her witnessing another seizure. He hadn't thought he could explain one away as a really terrific new kind of orgasm. Had she been attributing his coolness to their lingering differences about his brother? "Mark has nothing to do with this."

    "Mark has everything to do with this! If you hadn't gone downside after him, you would never have been killed. And you wouldn't have been left with some damned cryonic short circuit in your head. You may think he's the greatest invention since the Necklin drive, but I loathe the fat little creep!"

    "Well, I like the fat little creep! Somebody has to. I swear, you are frigging jealous. Don't be such a damned cast-iron bitch!"

    They were standing apart, both with their fists clenched, breathing hard. If it came to blows, he'd lose, in every sense. Instead, he bit out, "Baz and Elena are quitting, did you know that? I'm promoting you to Commodore and Fleet-second in Baz's place. Pearson will take over as Fleet engineer. And you will also be brevet captain of the Peregrine till you make rendezvous with the other half of the Fleet. The choice of the Peregrine 's new commander will be your first staff appointment. Pick someone you think you can tr . . . work with. Dismissed!"

    Blast it, that was not how he'd intended to present Quinn with her longed-for promotion. He'd meant to lay it at her feet as a great prize, to delight her soul and reward her extraordinary effort. Not fling it at her head like a pot in the middle of a raging domestic argument, when words could no longer convey the weight of one's emotions.

    Her mouth opened, closed, opened again. "And where the hell do you think you're going, without me as a bodyguard?" she bit out. "I know Illyan gave you the most explicit standing orders that you're not to travel alone without one. How much more career suicide do you think you need?"

    "In this sector, a bodyguard