sensed why the lieutenant dared not fire to kill. 'First you'll want to know just what mischief I've set loose while you were celebrating, boy.'

    Jensen's fingers whitened on the grip of his pellet gun. His thoughts darted like a rat in a maze but found no opening to exploit. He had visited the control bridge on the Marity. Her captain's ability to manipulate hardware was real enough to frighten; and if Harris had slugged down drugs with his beer, the Sbearborn's systems had been open to sabotage for something close to three hours. Any havoc was possible.

    Mac James's laconic observation interrupted the lieutenant's thoughts. 'Now, I see you have two choices. Murder your pilot to get me, and you've got a Fleet investigation on your case. You can bet they won't send a lightweight to chew your ass. Not if you kill without witnesses and a suspect like me turns up dead

on your chaser, smack in the middle of a classified installation.' 'That won't save you,' Jensen said quickly.

    'Maybe not.' Harris's head lolled to one side as Mac James shifted his grip. 'But a review of Sbearborn's flight log will uncover a coded file, accessed through stolen passkeys. The data list includes plans for every project Cassix Station personnel have going on the drawing boards. Fleet court-martial will nail you on theft of military secrets, without appeal. You need me alive, boy. Unless you know enough to go into that system and monkey that file out of existence without leaving tracks.'

    Jensen felt shaky down to his shoes. He lacked the expertise to clear the encoded locks on the Sbearborn's software, much less to alter records on the other side. His helplessness galled doubly. In the event of a trial, the very ignorance that ensured his innocence would be impossible to prove.

    'You're much too quiet, boy.' Mac James shifted his weight with sharpening impatience. 'Why do you think I've been so busy?'

    Rocked by a stab of hatred, Jensen perceived more. 'You sent that other skip-runner in, pitted me against him specifically to gain entrance to Cassix Station without leaving traces. The Indie contract on the kidnappers was only a cover.'

    A strained silence followed, broken gruffly by Mac James's reply. 'A man lives according to his nature, you for pride and advancement, and Captain Gorlaff for his bets. That one buried his future permanently because he neglected to watch his odds. You

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