Page 41 of Full Speed to a Crash Landing

“For some people,” I counter. “Eventually.”

I like this, this fight. Because I can tell—he’s a real believer. He’s not so dumb as to think that any government is perfect, but he truly does think that by ticking the right boxes and going through the right protocols, he’s going to make a difference.

He thinks he can play by the rules and still win.

I suppose that’s been true for him all his life. But the rules were made for people like him.

Me? I know better than to believe in anyone else coming down to help, governmental or not. In the end, the only one fighting for your life is yourself, and trusting anyone to help without an angle of their own is what gets you killed.Nothingcomes without cost. Every rescue mission comes with a bill.

Even this one.

“I fought to keep this project public,” Rian says, his voice soft. “There were private investors who wanted to bankrupt the people of Earth for a chance at livable climate. You have no idea the workso manypeople have done to keep this project available to directly benefit the citizens instead of line the pockets of rich businesses. Which is why it is so important to make sure the drive and the cryptex key, when we find it, don’t end up in the hands of the highest bidder.”

And suddenly, I don’t want to fight anymore.

How can he not see that the highest bidder is always the government that bids with power instead of coin?

16

The next morning, Rian finds me sitting in front of the airlock I first used to come aboard theHalifax.

“I’m surprised,” he says, looking down at me. “I thought you’d be in the mess hall.”

In answer, I raise the cup of porridge I already finished. The stuff had been thick with protein powder and vitamin supplements. It’s liquid enough to suck up through a straw but chunky enough to need to be chewed, which is, frankly, the worst combination of edible textures that exists.

“Ah,” he says, and then, to my surprise, he sits down beside me. “Shuttle launch in about an hour.”

I nod, still looking up at the porthole window. I’ve got to suit up soon.

From this angle, I can’t really see much of anything through the carbonglass. It’s just a place to point my eyes at that’s not him.

“You don’t have to go,” he says.

I bite the tip of my tongue. Not enough to draw blood. Just enough to focus on the pain instead of the possibility.

“This mission was designed to be run by Saraswati and Magnusson. You’re a refugee; you don’t have to—”

I finally turn to him, my lips curved into a smile. “Yeah, but if I find that key, we get to have steak and ice cream. And I’m much better than either of them, as proven already.”

He grins at me, but his eyes—sharp as razorblades. The smile fades.

“That was brave of you, yesterday,” he says. All sincerity. Like he needs me to believe it as much as he does.

“Saraswati said it was stupid.”

“Saraswati thinks it was brave, too.”

I have to give him a truth. If I don’t, he’ll tell. He thinks the danger’s caught up with me, the fear. The enormity of the mission. That’s not it. But I can’t tell him why I’m in front of the airlock, why I’m not ready to jump onto the shuttle and head back to the planet. So, I have to give him something to hold on to, something that’s as real as biting into a fresh peach.

“There’s no such thing as bravery,” I state clearly, looking right into his eyes.

His brow furrows. “What? No, braveryisreal, and what you did, what you’re doing—”

I shake my head. “I mean it. There is no such thing as bravery. Or cowardice, for that matter.”

“Then what—”

“There is only survival.”

---