Everyone's first instinct was to save the boat. Noah ran for the pumps; Mara shouted commands like a language she'd taught sailors since she was a girl. They rigged braces, lashed patches, stuffed canvas and oakum into the breach. The boat listed, complaining, but didn't fall. For a while, it held, like a living thing stitched back by stubborn hands.
“I’m in. What’s the checksum?”