In the time it took to cross the city, Caledonia had considered half a dozen new problems. From making repairs without leaving her defenses weak to rebuilding the gun towers and guarding a landward flank; from managing the civilians still inside the city to treating her new wounds. These were problems she couldn’t even begin to consider solving until she’d taken care of the hundreds of Bullets on the brink of withdrawal.

One problem, however, she could solve immediately.

Without slowing her stride, she popped the flap of Tassos’s remote trigger and pressed the code Nettle had discovered. Part of her regretted that she was too far to see the explosion for herself. But she could imagine how it would bloom against the southern seas, vibrant as a bale blossom. Soon, she’d sail out and confirm the destruction, but for now it was enough to know the rig was gone.

“That didn’t work,” Cepheus said, interrupting her quiet moment of victory.

“What do you mean?” Caledonia snapped the little latch shut, irritation making her sharp. “Tassos lied?”

“Not exactly. There are more bombs on the rig than anyone knows, but the range on that remote is limited.” Cepheus glanced over her shoulder toward the Bullets carrying their fallen Fiveson. “He only let people think it would work regardless of where he was. Tassos never expected to be far enough to need a strong signal. Thought he’d die on that Net.”

Caledonia considered the small black box in her hand. Disappointment perched in the back of her throat, and as much as she wanted Cepheus to be lying, she knew in her gut this was the truth. “Why are you telling me?” she asked.

The sounds of their footsteps against the stone street filled the space between them. A frown flashed across Cepheus’s face and she squeezed her lips tight before conceding, “I owe Pisces a debt.”

Caledonia thought she caught the hint of affection in the young woman’s tone, in the fond way her eyes pinched when she spoke of Pisces.

“How close do I need to be?” Caledonia asked.

“Close.” Cepheus shrugged. “A mile and a half.”

With a sigh, Caledonia clipped the remote to her waistband. Another problem for later.

Before she could say anything more, the prison appeared at the end of the street. Oran and Sledge were waiting for them outside a building that stretched the length of the Luminous. A single pair of heavy doors in the front marked the only way in or out.

Sledge was narrow-eyed, and strain showed in every muscle of his considerable body. “Don’t know what you want to do with those already inside,” he said.

“Leave them there for now,” Caledonia answered quickly. Anyone Lir considered worthy of being locked away was either an immediate ally or someone she had no business freeing. “Any word from the infiltration team?”

A frown tightened Sledge’s lips. “Not yet.”