Helen’s heart started thumping rapidly in her chest. Another ghost? In Sprite’s same sector? Sure, it could be a coincidence, but the chances of another cloaked diver seemed unlikely. Sprite lay on the raised table, stone still, but she was already deep into her dagger.

“Where?” Sprite asked, just the slightest bit of concern in her tinny sounding voice.

“To your left,” Vapor said, “eighty degrees.”

“You’re still silent,” Darkholm said, “but I’m reading a blue and yellow aurora.”

“Let me know when it hits red,” Sprite said. “Scotty?”

Scotty’s fingers flew over his keyboards. “You’re elite.”

“I need private!”