Chapter Fourteen
Nina studies my work with a sharp eye. Her questions are smart and methodical. “Do you have a background in mathematics?” I ask, almost too eager to find a colleague.
“Computer science,” she says. “We need to get this plugged into some decryption algorithms as soon as possible. A brute force attack by hand would take forever.”
“That’s a good idea,” I say, and I mean that.
Nina’s eyebrows rise. “But?”
“No, I mean it is a good idea.” Sometimes people write their computer passwords on paper. It could be a lot of different electronic things. But I have a feeling it isn’t. A feeling isn’t logic. It isn’t anything I can verify or back up, but it’s there nonetheless. “The medium. It could be part of the message.”
“Telling us what?”
“How to decode it,” I say, unable to say
