Page 8

8

R ian’s not even gotten a tray of food, but he stands up anyway, offering me his arm like we’re in some period drama feed and not...here. I take his elbow anyway, because obviously , and we swan out of there.

“Do you actually think you can get something Yadav and Magnusson cannot?” he asks me. Just idle conversation.

“Yes.”

“Confident.”

“Experienced.”

“It seems that way.” He leads me forward, away from the bunks. My skin zings with anticipation. There seems to be possibility weaving around us like smoke. And where there’s smoke, well...you know the rest. I slip my arm out of his, slowing down a little so I can better look at my surroundings. This is a part of the ship I don’t think I’d be allowed to see without him.

“So, what’s your role here?” I say. “Captain, First, the doc—those are standard on a ship. And Saraswati and Magnusson are clearly your muscle.”

“Can’t I be the muscle, too?” Rian smirks, but here’s the thing. I was just touching his arm, and it is solid. The man definitely doesn’t spend all his time on spaceships letting his muscles atrophy and taking bio-enhancer supplements to make up for zero-g. I mean, I’m not wormy-armed myself, and I can lug up the scrap on the hover as well as anyone, I guess, but like...that arm was nice; that’s what I’m saying.

Rian takes mercy on me, as if he can guess how my mind went spinning sideways. “I’m the brains,” he says.

“Oh.”

“You sound surprised.”

I smile beatifically up at him. That’s what he gets for having good arms. And for saying my problems were “user error.” And for probably being from Rigel-Earth, despite my best attempts to pretend otherwise. I mean, I definitely get smug when I’m right, but the difference is I know I’m right, and so the fact that he’s smug when I don’t know if he’s actually right is infuriating.

He stops outside a door with a bioscanner lock, and he leans forward, letting his eye be scanned. He’s put his body in front of the door, but I notice he slides his finger over a print-scanner bar. Double security, all linked to him. The door zings open.

This isn’t a bunk room, but it’s got the homey feel of one. There’s tea with a little steam wafting off it on the table, next to several data pads, scanners, and one actual paper notebook that’s firmly closed. I long to touch it—real paper? I’ve not felt that thin, smooth stuff in...years, I think. Not since I left home.

Rian activates a holo projector in the center of the room. A scan of the Roundabout illuminates, twirling slowly around. As I watch, it breaks apart into two pieces, small blocks representing the debris scattering around. The holo settles onto a projection of the crash site on the planet surface, the tail end near me, the nose pointing straight down in a rift.

I shift closer to Rian, watching the projection. High-tech scans. It all matches what I saw on the surface. They used drones, I suppose, just like they did on Glory.

But there’s some detail missing, especially in the smaller items, especially near the bottom of the rift.

“Heat kept your drones from scanning,” I comment, pointing near the bottom of the projection. It’s nothing but fuzzy light.

“There are lava flows,” Rian says. “Hot enough to disrupt imagery.”

“If it’s hot enough to mess up digital images, it’s too hot to get anything down there,” I say. “Hope the thing you want isn’t on one of those ledges.” I point to the projection of boxes that have settled along the outcroppings of rock above the lava river.

“It is,” Rian says grimly. “Yadav confirmed.”

“Thermal protection at least?” That would be the only way the item inside isn’t melted from the radiant heat of the lava. Rian confirms, detailing not just the box’s material but also its dimensions.

Not the contents, though.

That’s okay. I already know. Not that he knows I know, but...you know.

“Right, so, whatever’s inside the box is safe,” I start.

“For now,” Rian adds grimly.

And there’s the rub. See, before, when the only thing spurring them to action was my distress signal and their paranoia thinking I was laying a trap rather than dying, they thought the biggest threat to retrieving the box’s contents would be someone like me.

They forgot about the planet itself.

Constant earthquakes, volcanos rumbling, tectonic plates shifting about, rivers made of literal molten rock, violent geysers spraying out debris...not exactly a safe place to store something valuable.

This thermal- and impact-protected case is fine for now, resting on a ledge a few meters above a lava flow. But one violent shrug of the protoplanet’s shoulders, and that box is going on a river ride made of fire and not even its thermal protections will help.

I lean back, looking at the holographic projection. “You’re going to hire me,” I say confidently. I turn to him. “We should call the captain, negotiate terms.”

“The captain doesn’t make those decisions.”

How hot is he when he says that? Just all casual, like it’s not a big deal.

“You do?” I say, already knowing the answer from the way he stands there, feet rooted, body relaxed. Eyes sharp as splintered glass.

“She’s in charge of the ship. I’m in charge of the mission.”

Explains the room, then. This is a war room, and it’s just for him. A delicious shiver tickles my spine. I wonder if the rest of the crew have been in here. Probably. A little pang of disappointment at that.

But Rian knows what it means to show me this, I think. And he’s too smart not to have an angle.

I’ve got to be careful now. Which is a problem, because the idea that Rian’s playing me just as much as I’m playing him?

Like I said, hot.

I want to pin him down on top of the flat base of the holo projector and get him to tell me all those secrets behind those eyes of his. He’s after the box—does he know what’s inside of it the way I know what’s inside of it? Does he know what it all means? What it’s worth?

Everything, I think. It’s worth everything .

“Climbing down won’t work,” I say, scrutinizing the image. “Too slow, and you’d be exposed to the heat too long.”

“Temperatures are indeed high enough to compromise the integrity of our protective gear if the exposure is too long.”

“Drones get knocked off by radiant heat waves,” I continue, thinking aloud. “Dropping a hook down is too risky.”

Rian motions for me to come closer and get a different angle. The box is right on the lip of the ledge, about a quarter of it actually hanging off the exposed side. It’s a miracle it hasn’t already fallen over the side.

“I saw your suits,” I say.

Rian’s face flashes in surprise, and that makes me trill with eagerness. I like startling a man who thinks he knows everything. He’s got every step planned, but if I can keep him on his toes, he might just stumble.

“You’ve got space jets,” I continue, granting him mercy by providing an explanation. “CO 2 cartridges?”

He nods. Lightweight, efficient, easy to recharge. Most suits are only equipped with space jets.

“That’ll maneuver you in low gravity. But I have a jaxon jet. ”

“I know,” he says, his voice low, all personal. I can’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. I mean...he definitely didn’t miss that detail when he inspected my suit.

“You kept going on about it,” he adds, smirking.

Oh. Right. I’d forgotten about that.

He hadn’t.

But I can see those tiny gears working behind those clear-as-carbonglass eyes. My jaxon jet is the only possible thing that can help him get the loot. Nothing else on the Halifax has the maneuverability and control that my jets have.

He turns to look at the holo projection again, considering. “It’d be dangerous,” he says to the shimmering light. “At least the last ten meters would all be manual—the heat messes with the sensors. You’d have to have absolute control.”

“Don’t worry; I like being in control.”

Rian raises his eyebrows. I see the moment it settles in his mind, that we’re in a dark room, alone, together, nothing between us but the plans that may mean my horrifyingly gruesome death. So romantic.

“My suit’s custom-fitted, and I know my jetpack. I can get down to that box, grab it, and get out. Or you can faff around and wait for a quake to knock it into the lava. It doesn’t really matter to me,” I lie.

And then, just because I can, I tell him the truth. “I’m the only hope you have.”