Vector glanced at Morn. When she didn't move, he shrugged and descended the companionway behind Sib.

She thought that she would go after him. Yet she remained where she was, immobilized by uncertainty. She told herself that she hesitated because she wanted to go check on Mikka and Ciro. The truth was that she suddenly wanted to flee; ached to get out of here get out of here before Angus recovered the power to harm her. before Angus recovered the power to harm her.

"Morn?" Davies asked; urged. He stood poised beside Angus, waiting for her permission.

No! her fears answered. No! He's a murderer-a rapist. He broke broke me. I'm a zone implant addict because of him. I would rather see him dead. I would rather be dead myself. me. I'm a zone implant addict because of him. I would rather see him dead. I would rather be dead myself.

But she knew better.

Revenge was for lost souls.

You're a cop, she'd once told her son. From now on, I'm going to be a cop myself From now on, I'm going to be a cop myself Cops were predators, but they didn't hunt for vengeance. If she went after Cops were predators, but they didn't hunt for vengeance. If she went after Soar Soar, it would be because Sorus Chatelaine was humankind's enemy, not because Gutbuster Gutbuster had killed her mother. had killed her mother.

Even though Angus terrified her, and every moment of anguish he'd ever caused her stuck in her throat, she'd said to him, We'll trust you. We'll trust you.

Now or never.

Gripping the handrail for support, she started downward.

"Go ahead," she said through her terror. "We've come this far. There's no point in stopping now."

"Yes!"

Davies plucked the datacore from Angus' fingers, moved around behind his father, and dropped to his knees.

"Go ahead with what?" Sib objected. He sounded nauseous with ignorance and anxiety. "I don't understand any of this. What are you doing!" doing!"

Morn finished descending the steps. As she left the railing, she put her hand on Sib's shoulder, partly to rea.s.sure him, partly to help her keep her balance.

"Angus says he knows how to edit datacores." This was the best answer she could give: she didn't have the bravery for a complete explanation. Sib would have to fill in the gaps as best he could. "We're going to find out if that's true."

"Ah," Vector sighed in comprehension. "You don't believe in half measures, do you. This is the old kill-or-cure treatment with a vengeance." He paused, then asked, "Could I persuade you to tell us how? Editing datacores is supposed to be impossible."

Later. Morn raised a palm to put him off. If we survive. And if we have time.

Davies studied Angus' back; swore under his breath; withdrew. From the first-aid kit he s.n.a.t.c.hed up swabs and began blotting the welter of blood so that he could see the chip's socket.

Angus' head hung hopelessly. He endured Davies' pushing and prodding as if the removal of his datacore had deprived him of all normal sensation.

Abruptly the bridge speakers snapped to life.

"Trumpet, this is Lab Center. We're waiting."

Waiting? Oh, s.h.i.t! In an instant Morn's brain seemed to go numb. Waiting for what?

Davies froze.

Panic flared in Sib's eyes; but before he could say anything, Vector intervened.

"You'd better talk to them, Sib." His calm suggested that he had complete confidence in the former data first. "They'll be surprised to hear from you, but there's nothing we can do about that. Morn, Davies, and Angus can't do it-they aren't supposed to be here. And Center won't believe me. I'm just a geneticist. As for Nick"-Vector smiled phlegmatically-"he looks like he's going to be tied up for a while. That leaves you."

Sib couldn't stifle his alarm. His face seemed to sweat failure. Nevertheless Vector's confidence steadied him in some way. Or perhaps he remembered that without his help Morn and Davies wouldn't have beaten Nick. Despite his fear, he moved to the second's station.

While Morn still groped to imagine what Center was waiting for, he punched open a communications channel.

Vector didn't pause. "If you'll give me that data-jack," he said to Davies, "I'll start feeding it in. I can do that from the auxiliary engineering board. Then we'll be able to get out of here"-he glanced at Angus-"no matter what happens."

Scowling, Davies pa.s.sed the data-jack to Vector. At once he resumed working on Angus' back, trying to swab away enough blood so that he could see what to do.

"Lab Center," Sib said almost firmly, "this is Trumpet. Trumpet. Sorry for the delay. We're just about ready." Sorry for the delay. We're just about ready."

Vector smiled impartially around the bridge. Then he headed for the auxiliary engineering board.

"All right," Davies muttered into Angus' open back. He picked up a small circuit clamp, clipped the datacore onto it. "Now maybe I can do this without plugging it in backward."

Holding his breath so that his hands wouldn't shake, he probed the datacore toward Angus' computer.

"Trumpet," Lab Center demanded sharply, "who is this? Where's Captain Succorso?" Lab Center demanded sharply, "who is this? Where's Captain Succorso?"

Morn didn't know the voice.

"Sorry, again," Sib responded. "Chief Retledge, this is Sib Mackern. I guess I should explain. The truth is"-with an effort he managed to make his anxiety sound like embarra.s.sment-"I'm afraid Captain Succorso and Dr. Shaheed couldn't wait to start celebrating. They're in the galley, already half null-I could probably get the captain to talk to you, but at the moment I don't think he cares whether we ever undock."

Once he began, Sib didn't falter. His approximation of a.s.surance improved steadily. "Mikka Vasaczk is tending her brother in sickbay. It looks like he has some kind of health problem we didn't know about. Suddenly it was too much for him.

"That just leaves me.

"As soon as our computers finish reading your data-jack, we'll be ready to receive departure protocols."

"Alone, Mr. Mackern?" Chief Retledge didn't try to conceal his incredulity. "You propose to take Trumpet Trumpet out alone?" out alone?"

"There," Davies breathed through clenched jaws. "It's in." He leaned back: unaware of what he did, he wrapped his arms around himself as if he needed comfort. "Can you still hear me, Angus? Did I do it right? Can you tell if I did it right?"

Angus didn't move; didn't answer. He squatted on the deck as if he'd surrendered to execution.

Withdrawal twisted through Morn's stomach. She felt herself hyperventilating. She wanted to tell Sib, Get us out of here. Make them give us permission. But she didn't dare; she couldn't risk being overheard.

"Chief Retledge," Sib countered, "this is a gap scout, not an orehauler-or a warship." He spoke loudly to cover Davies. "Her manifest only requires a crew of two. If your data is accurate, I can run this swarm in my sleep." He paused, feigning doubt, then added, "Captain Succorso doesn't care at the moment. But when he sobers up, he's going to be more than just furious if I don't carry out his orders."

Nick seemed to react to the sound of his name. He groaned softly: his shoulders hunched: he tried to rise. But the effort was too much for him, and he slumped back to the deck.

Retledge was silent for a long moment. Then, grudgingly, he snorted, "Trumpet "Trumpet, we're standing by to initiate undock on your word. We'll a.s.sign departure protocols when you're clear. Lab Center out."

The bridge speakers emitted a faint hiss and fell silent.

"Almost done," Vector murmured to no one in particular.

Without warning Angus moved his arms.

Morn flinched; she couldn't help herself. Skinworms of fear chewed along her nerves.

His muscles tensed. His back straightened. Slowly he stood, pulling himself taller. He might have been a piece of equipment coming back on-line.

"Angus?" Davies asked uncertainly. "Angus-?"

A low moan began to leak up out of Angus' chest like a prayer. Quiet at first, it built louder as his heart beat and his arms flexed; as tension moved up and down his spine like a systems check. Morn wanted to implore him, Stop it, stop! but she couldn't. He transfixed her. She could only stand and listen as his moan rose to a roar, as guttural and extreme as the howl of a tortured beast.

Suddenly he whirled away from the command station, ripping himself free of the board, slinging a spray of blood and wires around him.

"It works!" he cried like a shout of rage. "It works!" "It works!"

Morn took a step toward him. There was no one else to do it. Davies knelt where Angus had left him, too shocked to move. Sib and Vector might have been paralyzed. Somehow Nick had squirmed his knees under him, but he couldn't lift himself any higher. Morn had to face Angus alone.

Her laser was in her hand; of its own volition, her hand pointed itself at Angus' head. Panting as if she'd lost the power to breathe, she asked, "How do I know that? How am I supposed to believe you?"

His pa.s.sion wasn't rage: it was a feral joy, as savage and necessary as murder; as pure as fury. b.l.o.o.d.y from working on his datacore, his hands closed and unclosed like a torn heart.

"Try me," he rasped. "Try "Try me." me."

Try him? She wanted to turn and run. No, she wanted to burn him through the head before he thought to defend himself. Involuntarily her fist tightened. Shame and fear from the core of her being begged her to press the firing stud.

We'll do it. We'll trust you.

We're cops.

Gasping to force up words, she ordered, "Isaac, this is Gabriel priority. Put your head down."

Nick let out a groan of pain and betrayal. "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Fierce with exaltation, Angus jutted his chin toward the ceiling.

"I'm free." Wild relief congested his voice as if he were sobbing. "I'm free." free."

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Heaving on the tape which bound his wrists to his ankles, Nick pulled himself up onto his feet. Pain glazed his eyes, thickened his tongue. "Motherf.u.c.ker." He hardly had the strength to stand; his bonds didn't let him move. Nevertheless he fought to articulate his despair. "Treacherous b.l.o.o.d.y piece of s.h.i.t."

Morn ignored him. "That's not what you told us," she protested to Angus. Her arm began to shake: she couldn't control it. The muzzle of her laser pistol wavered across the display screens behind his head. "You told us you could mask your priority-codes. But you can't circ.u.mvent your core programming. That's what you said. How free are are you?" you?"

Angus' eyes rolled as if he needed to howl again. Her distrust seemed to torment or transport him.

Abruptly his attention caught on Nick. With a snarl, he sprang forward. His left hand grabbed Nick by the collar of his shipsuit: his momentum and strength carried Nick backward, slammed him against the bulkhead.

Deliberately Angus bunched his right list in front of Nick's face, aimed his prosthetic laser into Nick's eyes.

No! Morn thought. Yes. Yes. No! No!

She'd killed Nick with a question. How free are are you? His death was on her head. you? His death was on her head.

But Angus didn't fire. Strain whitened his knuckles, stretched the cords of his hands taut. His fingers clenched until his hand shook as badly as Morn's. His desire to kill Nick filled his face like a scream.

Yet his laser didn't fire.

"See?" Convulsively he flung Nick away from him, whirled to face Morn again. His voice rose into a shout of grief and protest. "See? "See? I can't I can't do do it! I can't even it! I can't even hit hit him! him! My programming won't let me hurt UMCP personnel!" My programming won't let me hurt UMCP personnel!"

Nick fell to his knees, toppled onto the deck. His eyes stared past his pale scars. From somewhere deep inside him, a sound like laughter trickled out of his mouth.

"Come on," Angus pleaded with Morn, "fry me! Don't stand there thinking I didn't keep my deal with you!"

By degrees his shout sank to a bitter growl. "I'm free of him" him" He slapped the back of his hand in Nick's direction. "And I'm free of He slapped the back of his hand in Nick's direction. "And I'm free of you" you" He stabbed one strong finger like a blow at the center of her chest. "You can't He stabbed one strong finger like a blow at the center of her chest. "You can't use use me the way he did. me the way he did.

"But I'm not free of the G.o.dd.a.m.n UMCP. I'm not free of Warden Dios." His eyes spilled memories as dark as hers. "I won't be free of him and Hashi f.u.c.king Lebwohl until they're dead.

"Give me a way to prove I keep my deals. The ones I care about. Tell me what you want me to do."

Without apparent transition Davies stood at Angus' shoulder, holding the open first-aid kit under one arm. Morn hadn't seen him move. Her concentration had contracted until only Angus seemed to exist.

"For a start," Davies said acidly, "you might try standing still. If I don't do something about your back, you're going to bleed to death."

Angus didn't agree or object. He waited for Morn to reply.

Davies glanced at her, then took a tube of tissue plasm out of the kit and began squeezing the contents into Angus' wound.

"I think-" Sib put in hesitantly.

"Don't." Unexpectedly sharp, Vector cut him off. "This is between them. You and I haven't earned the right to an opinion." Morn turned away. The tremors which weakened her aim had become more than she could bear. She needed her black box: without it, she was too frail, too mortal. Angus had cost her too much. She'd made the decision to let him free; but now she wasn't brave enough to face the outcome.

When she turned, however, her eyes met Nick's.

In spite of his cracked head and his bonds, he grinned like a skull. "You stupid b.i.t.c.h," he murmured softly. "You thought I was bad." His tone was raw malice, "This is going to be worse."

At the sight of his twisted features and the sound of his voice, something in her stiffened-an echo of the resolve which had carried her when she'd decided to help Angus.

We'll trust whoever wrote your core programming. I think it was Warden Dios. I think he's trying to find some way to fight Holt Fasner. And if he is, I think we should help him.

Angus hadn't hurt anyone here until Nick took control of him.

She could have saved herself. But she didn't.

Holding Nick's gaze, she retorted, "Just for the record, Angus didn't betray you. He couldn't. He couldn't fight his priority-codes. The people who sent you that message did it."

Nick made another small inarticulate sound; but now it seemed less like laughter.

She put her laser down: she didn't need a weapon anymore. Without it, her hand stopped shaking, and she was able to face Angus again.

"I want you at the command station," she told him. "Sib has to talk to Lab Center, but we need you to get us out of here." So that Davies, Sib, and Vector would hear her as well, she went on, "We're going after Soar. Soar. But we probably can't beat her unless you help us. You're still the captain of this ship." But we probably can't beat her unless you help us. You're still the captain of this ship."

Grat.i.tude and fierce joy bared Angus' teeth, but he didn't answer her. Instead he pulled away from Davies and vaulted into his command g-seat. With his shipsuit still rucked down around his waist and blood smearing his half-sealed wound, he began entering the commands which brought Trumpet Trumpet to life. to life.

Nick was laughing again, but Morn ignored him. Trying to sh.o.r.e up her courage, she recited a litany of hope.