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who urgently needed a courier run there.”
    Evan floated up and took the copilot seat next to Mira. “Just to come get me. I did say thank you.”
    “Actually not to get you. I thought you were dead. When I read your message, I just figured that you might have left me a present.”
    What should he tell Mira, and when? At this moment, he owed her everything. But as Evan well remembered, discretion and nuance were not Mira’s strong suits.
    They looked at each other for a moment. Mira had that way of facing slightly away but turning her eyes toward him, conveying at the same time an interrogation and also a sense that they were both in on the same secret. Inviting him to break the silence.
    He was alive, thanks only to Mira. Evan realized that he had no idea what risks she had taken to get to him. He might not be able to repay her, but there was one decent thing he could do right that moment.
    “ We’ve got a little while until Top Station, right?”
    “Just over two hours,” she told him.
    “Well then Mira, I’ve got a little story for you,” Evan said. “But before I get started, where are we going? I mean, after Top Station?”
    “There’s only one place you can go,” Mira said. “And lucky for you I live there. We’re going to the Untrusted Zone.”
    Private Keys
    Lobeck, Skylar, and Roe were assembled. Lobeck began. “First, let me confirm that the only record of this discussion is the multiparser on the table. I will keep custody of this. No person is to make any mention of this material, even in private records. Mister Roe, you are present only because you have firsthand knowledge of events thus far.”
    That drumbeat had not ceased since the moment Lobeck had arrived. Roe was a guest, on his own ship. No more than a rental. Not even called Captain.
    “First, the examination of the destroyed craft.” Lobeck turned to Skylar.
    “The craft was first checked for nuclear or other explosive devices, then it was brought into M3120’s hold. Physical investigation of the interior was begun as M3120 proceeded to Top Station.”
    Mithra Skylar was one of the strangest looking people Roe had ever seen. The pale white of her skin would be effective camouflage against the ship’s hallways. She was so thin that Roe wondered if she would disappear if she turned sideways. She was breathing a supplementary air supply through a set of tubes running under her nose. She had one eye always covered by a dataspace viewer, and a companion viewer ready to swing in front of her other eye at a moment’s notice.
    “How many persons entered the craft?” Lobeck asked.
    “A total of five plus myself,” Roe said. He brought up a graphic of the interior of the runabout, which included icons identifying objects of interest.
    “And you believe there was one casualty,” Lobeck prompted.
    “There was the missile impact, which could have discharged the one person. There was no person or body in the ship.”
    Lobeck studied the graphic, exploding a few icons to check their details. “Let us speculate that McElroy survived,” he said. “That is the most concerning scenario.”
    “It’s just not physically possible. Nobody−”
    Lobeck looked sharply at Skylar. “Never say impossible. You know better. We must consider all possibilities. But let’s move on. The transmittal. That fact endures, no matter what McElroy ’s fate.”
    Skylar narrated the status. “From 0543 until impact at 0546, the craft broadcast the same message repeatedly on a variety of channels. The plain text portion is nonsense. The encrypted portion appears to be coded using 2KB strong, and it’s small. Here’s one thing that’s verifiably impossible – the message can’t possibly contain the entire information we are concerned about protecting. It could be meta. It could be about the information. But it can’t contain all of it.”
    “How long will it take to decrypt?” Lobeck asked Skylar.
    “With the resources on board, three days, presuming