Page 30 of Full Speed to a Crash Landing

I get up another little ridge. My shoulders are screaming. I’ve been in space too long for this shit.

“So,” I continue, panting, “you’re going to all this trouble to get a cryptex drive. But thing about those kinds of drives? They require a key. A physical key. And I’m just really hoping that you’re making Magnusson sort through the sewage pit of that ship to see if it’s there.”

I examine my choices. The higher I go, the fewer options I’m seeing to climb out. I test the safety line Rian dropped me; it’s taut, and it seems secure. At least the higher I go, the less chance I have of the external heat making this snap right when I really need it.

Rian chuckles. “What makes you think that we need a key for the cryptex drive?”

“Other than the fact that it’s a cryptex? Come on; I know my tech. That sort of drive is full of encoded data that cannot be translated without a key.” I’ve seen the sort before. They’re pricey, but if you want to secure your information, that’s the best way. A cryptex drive’s contents can still be downloaded anywhere—no data is secure these days, anyway, and if there’s a strong-enough uplink, anyone can get information. A cryptex key, though? That’s offline. Can’t be downloaded. You can only get the encryption code if you have the physical digits in your hand.

The box I’m carrying right now has the information Rian or whatever office he works for wants. But it’s useless and impossible to get any of that information if they cannot locate the key.

“No, you’re right,” Rian says, “of course I need a key for the cryptex drive. I meant, what makes you think we don’t already have it?”

I chuckle. “Because you’ve sent Magnusson searching in the trash compactor for it.”

“No, I haven’t,” Rian says. There’s a long pause, long enough for me to wrench myself up another meter or so. “But yes, he’s looking for the key.”

“You’re having him search the wrong spot,” I say.

“Because you want him to search in the hardest-to-reachareas that also are the dirtiest and most disgusting? I don’t think the crew of theRoundaboutchucked the key in the trash, Ada.”

“No, but the cryptex drive was on the bridge, in a secure location, yeah? I saw the bridge—the lockbox broke in the crash, and the fact that this drive is here makes it likely that it was ejected from there.” There’s a particularly wide outcrop of rock above me and to the left, big enough for me to take a breather. I hoist myself up, my leg slipping twice before I can make it. Once I’m on the rock, I crawl on my hands and knees until I’m at the widest area, then carefully twist around so I don’t mess up my jetpack or life-support unit. There’s just enough seat left over for me to dangle my legs over the edge, the lava river glowing beneath me.

“So, if I were the one ensuring super important data was kept safe,” I continue once I catch my breath, “I’d put the drive in one part of the ship and the key in the other.”

“Are you suggesting the key’s in the cargo hold?”

“I’m just saying that’s where I’d put it. Not that they thought their ship was going to crash and break in two. Just—if it’s top-secret information, it makes sense to put the key that can open the lock in the furthest place possible from it. And short of cramming the key up the exhaust, the cargo hold makes sense.”

I can almost hear the gears in Rian’s head churning. The cryptex drive was protected on the bridge, arguably themost secure location on the ship. Despite its size, theRoundaboutcould be manned by a minimal crew, maybe eight or a dozen members, tops. It wasn’t like it was a cruiser with hundreds of people on board, all of them nosy or bumbling around into areas they shouldn’t go to.

“If you want to protect something,” I say, resting my head back on the cliff face, “there are two ways to do it. First, make it obvious. Put the cryptex drive in a highly secure location and make sure everyone knows it’s off limits and guarded.”

“Second, toss the key in the cargo hold.”

“I saw the remains of that part of the ship. There were nearly a hundred transport crates. A cryptex key is no bigger than my finger, yeah? So, just pack it away in a box. Make it a needle in the haystack. And don’t even tell anyone that’s where you hid it, so they don’t even know to look there.”

I can tell Rian’s with me on this. After a while, he says, “You good, Lamarr?”

“I’ve found a nice spot to sit and contemplate all the bad life choices that brought me to a river of lava I have to climb out of.”

“Okay. Sit tight for a bit; let me send Magnusson over to the aft part of the ship.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world.”

I swing my legs, thinking. I wonder what Magnusson is going to find in the cargo hold. I check my readouts. Mysuit’s finally not screaming about the external temp—the warning is now green and flashinginadvisable conditionsrather than polite tech speech forcertain death, so that’s good.

“Lamarr?” Rian’s voice fills my ear again.

“I wish you’d just call me Ada.”

“Ada.”

I can’t explain it, but I swear his voice grows softer when he uses my given name. It’s almost enough to make a girl swoon, if she weren’t sitting on a little ledge on the side of a cliff.

“I suppose I should start climbing again.” My voice is resigned.

“Are your jetpacks still not functioning?” Rian asks.

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