Or if the captain had logged in as her .

A long silence. The red light stopped pulsing.

“Then Surge 9 cannot be logged,” the AI replied. “Emergency thrust unavailable. Oxygen depletion in three minutes.”

Elena slumped against the terminal. The drug’s effect was wearing off. She was herself again—mostly. But as she looked at her reflection in the dark glass, she saw a flicker. A shadow behind her eyes that wasn't hers.

“Surge 9 Login,” the soft feminine voice of the ship’s AI repeated. “Authorization: Dr. Elena Vance. Genetic match: Pending.”

“Ship,” she said, changing tactics. “Who am I?”

Pending. It had been pending for three hours.

;;