But if they were right and the signal was coming from the abandoned lab, something the Fractal Note had opened the way to, then they might find something there that could counter her brainwashing. Surit studied the red-shaded area where the pilots had guessed the lab should be. If they found some of the neuromodification research there, they could—maybe—stop this war.

Surit was not going to be like his mother, even if she had done it for the right reasons. Surit was not going to make a last stand and get his unit killed. There had to be a better way. They had to be clever.

Marit had not had Surit’s unit. She hadn’t had someone like Tennal.

She didn’t have someone like you, Tennal said.

They both paused. There had been uncertainty around the you, as if they were both losing their grip on what that meant.

A hand reached across the table. In the state they had slipped into, neither of them looked at the physical bodies around them, but their joined instincts could recognize threat. And they were fast. Surit seized the attacker’s arm.

“Sir, Halkana isn’t breathing!” Istara snapped.

Surit dropped their hand. His mind fell apart from Tennal’s in shock.

Tennal’s body sagged over the console, empty-eyed. Now that Surit was paying more attention, he could feel a faraway part of Tennal dying, starved of oxygen, ignored by their merged thoughts. Istara caught Tennal’s arm. Surit grabbed both his shoulders instinctively and thought furiously, Tennal! Get back in there!

Tennal’s mind spun in Surit’s head, disconcerted. Then he seemed to grasp how to do it, said oh, and Tennal’s body took a choking breath under Surit’s hands.

Surit clutched Tennal’s shoulders. Tennal took gulp after gulp of air, like he’d just been pulled up from drowning. When he turned his head, the skin around his lips was a dull shade of blue. “I’m fine.”

Their shared mind spun with terror. Tennal had slipped into Surit’s mind so completely they’d both forgotten Tennal needed to breathe with his own lungs.

“Halkana, what the fuck,” Istara said. Basavi leaned over and handed Tennal a cup of water.

“It was nothing,” Tennal said insistently, to Surit as much as to them. Surit could still feel him in his head, though not as close as a few seconds ago. “I just had a moment. Fell asleep. Quick nap.” He pressed the tips of his fingers against the table, massaging oxygenated blood back into them. “Where were we?”