Page 9 of Full Speed to a Crash Landing

He’s silent for so long that I start eating again. I can guess what he’s thinking, though.

TheRoundaboutis a cargo ship. One of those big long-haulers. And itwastaking a path that was out of the way, bypassing the major routes. It was a ship that didn’t want to be found.

But it also didn’t want to crash, and it did, so clearly, ships don’t always get what they want.

“A lot of cargo crates labeled with Fetor Tech stamps,” I add. “Is that what you’re looking for, tech? I don’t bother with that. I don’t have the right connections.”

Rian doesn’t answer.

I put my spoon down. “I don’t know what you guys are trying to ‘salvage,’” I say, meeting his sharp eyes. “But me? I’m a metal scavenger. And I’m good at it. And that ship wasn’t reported, so it’s free game.”

That’s a sticking point for him. If theRoundabouthad something really, really important on it, then the government would have reported it off-limits. And few people would risk looting it. But that ship had been on a secret path for a reason, I’m betting. And that reason means the government sent over theHalifaxrather than risk the wrong people noting it was gone.

“It’s only been crashed ten cycles,” Rian says softly.There’s something different about his eyes now, something sad. “The planet it crashed into isn’t exactly hospitable, but...”

“You’re telling me,” I snort. This planet is one of the unnamed ones. Any planet that humans can’t settle doesn’t get a fancy name, just an alphanumerical designation. And this planet? Definitely can’t be settled.

“Ten cycles isn’t long enough for...” He pauses again, and I finally get his point. “There were thirteen crew members aboard when it crashed.”

I look down at my empty tray. “I know,” I whisper. “Or I guessed. Ship that size. Had to have human crew. I stayed in the back end.”

I can tell he doesn’t know what I mean. I prop my elbows on the table and bump my fists together. “Ship likeRoundabout,it wasn’t ever meant to land on a planet. Too big.” It’s a freighter, so it was built in space. Tenders brought the crew up from the planet to the ship, and it took and offloaded cargo with transport shuttles. “I don’t know what went wrong, but she got caught in that planet’s gravity. It ripped her in at least two pieces.” I pull my fists apart, letting them fall to the table withthunks that make Rian jump. He looks down at my hands, symbolizing that there are two broken parts of the ship, separated by a decent distance.

“Our initial scans showed something like that,” he says, almost to himself.

“Your scans were right. Anyway, I stayed aft. Didn’t see any bodies. Wasn’t looking for them, though.”

Rian nods gravely. Crash like that, there wouldn’t be survivors. Just corpses.

“I did all my salvaging from the cargo hold,” I add.

“What did you take?”

“Metal,” I say, shaking my head. We already went over that.

“You didn’t look at the cargo?”

“I didn’t get a chance. It’s...” I cringe. “It’s a mess down there. Metal’s easy. I filled up my haul with the bits on the ground, didn’t even need my hover for it.”

Rian nods, thinking. But I’m not sure what angle’s caught his attention. And that? That’s what hasmyattention.

4

First comes back, on the captain’s orders, no doubt, and escorts me to a bunk room. The crew’s quarters are pretty big. There’s space enough here for a crew three or four times the size that theHalifaxis now hosting. Money doesn’t seem to be the problem. Which means they’re operating with a tight crew on purpose.

The fewer people you have on board, the less talk you have off.

“Nice digs.” I step into the room First offers me. The door slides shut, leaving me alone in the room. “So polite,” I mutter to the air.

The room is small but bigger than my bunk onGlory. A double-sized bed bolted to the floor dominates one side. The wall by the door hosts a suit rack, complete with recharger hookups. That’s not unusual for a ship like this; crew tend to like to keep their own suits close, and it’s easier to dress in one’s room and then go to the shuttle bay than to turn the shuttle bay into an impromptu dressing room priorto departure. Of course, this means Nandina didn’t have to store my suit in a locker. Which means someone’s going to scan it. I file that bit away as I prowl the rest of the room. Wall cubbies show a few more outfits in the same tunic-and-drawstring style—generic gear made available for crew between suited walks, standard issue. The wash unit has some extra gadgets beyond just an antiseptic sponge and a suction toilet, so that definitely meets my approval.

There’s a large porthole of carbonglass built along the far wall, and even from here, I can see the curve of the planet below. When I press my face against the window, I can almost catch the empty shell ofGloryfloating nearby, too. My good little ship. “Don’t worry,” I tell her. “I’m coming back for you.”

My eyes linger at the gaping black scar of the breach.

I force myself to turn to the planet.Protoplanet, I mean. The world is riddled with earthquakes and volcanos, lava spurts forming dangerously erratic eruptions. It’s going to be a nice, big world one day. But right now, that planet is still a baby throwing tantrums about its own tectonic plates.

The porthole is set into the wall, the lip of it forming a space that’s perfect for sitting. I lean my back against the curved metal and stretch out my legs. My eyes drift from mypoor, broken ship to the poor, broken planet and back again.

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