But the format is also restrictive. Alien came of age during the birth of the modern information security age, and at times I wished we could have stepped back a bit from her story to see the bigger picture. Instead, tethered to Alien, we can see only as far as she can in the moment.

For instance, Alien experiences several gut-punch reminders that she is a woman in a male-dominated industry. She is saddled with administrative tasks. A male peer introduces her as a “junior consultant.” And a roomful of men eye her with curiosity at a conference. These moments cry out for a pause, some context, a bit of reflection on the security industry in the #MeToo moment. But instead we are whisked off to the next vignette.

The story offers just enough technological details to establish its bona fides without slowing its pace. It is a difficult balance. Alien’s social-engineering techniques have been detailed in books by and about the hacker Kevin Mitnick and elsewhere, and will come as no surprise to tech-savvy or security-conscious readers. More casual readers will get an introduction to that world, but not a guide to help them understand it.

Which is a shame, since the real Alien — she is easily identifiable if one is so inclined — has a well-earned reputation as an expert in her field. Her work is taught at universities, bar associations and the world’s top conferences. She is, as Smith set out to show, a security badass. Yet we hear very little from her in the present. The focus on how she got there is interesting, and at times quite fun, but it comes at the expense of the wisdom she acquired on the journey.

If there’s one lesson to be learned from Alien’s story, it is this: As Russian hackers challenge democracies and criminal attacks turn our personal data into commodities, we cannot turn to technology to save us. Security is only as strong as the employee who tapes his passwords to his cubicle, the overworked guard at the front desk and, yes, the person on the other end of the line when you call the help desk.