“That was close,” Ariadne said as she fitted her scrambler on the door of Eleuther’s storage hull. They had to be quiet. There would be other soldiers on board, and Rhea couldn’t make them all fall asleep.

“He was trained,” Rhea whispered, “so he won’t stay unconscious long. We have to hurry.”

Ariadne nodded and keyed the code into the scrambler. She had designed it to help seal the ship off from its comrades and prevent the Oracle from counteracting any commands she made.

“What are you doing?” Rhea asked, coming up behind her.

“For now, making sure there are no mistakes in the coding. If I did it correctly, I should have complete control over the system and the ship’s surveillance in the storage bay. Which means I can also access the Tholosian mainframe to locate the weapon.”

Ariadne had looked at the code from all angles, testing for any flaw, any way the Oracle would be able to slither through. If she failed, the rest of the crew would know the moment Rhea and Ariadne boarded. They would be caught, imprisoned, and probably executed.

It’ll hold, she told herself. But she wasn’t like the Oracle; she didn’t have the infinite energy of an artificial intelligence to sort out lines of code. She grew tired. She required sustenance.

They were human needs the Oracle considered obsolete.

“If?” Rhea hissed.

“I didn’t exactly have time to perfect it, Rhea. I barely slept, okay?”

Rhea nodded. “Right. I’m sorry.”

Ariadne drew up one of the wall panels, scrolling through the ship’s information. According to the manifest, there were five other soldiers in the storage bay. A skeleton staff simply keeping watch on supplies.

“Can you handle that many?” Ariadne asked Rhea.

“I’ve never tried. Let’s hope I can.”

Rhea shut her eyes, her body going entirely still. Ariadne was spared the full effect, but even so, she began to feel sleepy. At least the exhaustion helped with the fear.

Rhea pulled her abilities back and rocked on her feet. “Done.”

“Are you—”

“I’m fine.” She was breathing hard. “It’s more difficult through metal. Hurry now.”

When they entered Eleuther’s storage bay, the other five soldiers were asleep. Rhea and Ariadne tied them up and took their seats in front of the vid-screens. They kept low; if any soldier out guarding the other ships noticed them through the window . . .

The mainframe, Ari, she reminded herself.

So far, the screens on the walls had stayed idle. Ariadne felt no presence of the Oracle. Not that she should—One was an AI, a program. Only . . . when Ariadne wove her way through the wires of her surroundings, she could swear she felt One, like a shadow or a ghost.

Watching.

Waiting.