She gave one sharp nod. “All right. Jesus, okay . . . How do we know which shipments or whatever have the Foxfire? If those launch dates we found with Piero’s badge are correct, then he could have delivered Foxfire to other ships. Whatever he gave to Captain Reevey made him go mad and murder his crew, but I didn’t see any bodies on that ship that reminded me of Foxfire symptoms.”

Down to business. Edison appreciated that, and it was something to keep his focus. If his mind was too unoccupied, too free, then the Foxfire had a way of creeping in and exploiting that idleness.

“Rayan never incinerated the sample crates we picked up on CDAS, so we still have the serial numbers, the labels, everything. Maybe we can run a full search of any shipments coming or going to see if there are more samples on the station,” Edison explained, his eyes tracing her path back and forth across the room. “We have the badge Tuva found and those dates, too. ISS will have their own docking bay. If we find those same delivery dates in their system, then we have proof it wasn’t just Piero working on his own.”

“And if we can lock down the cockpit, I can send a message to HQ, tell them the situation and make sure they don’t intercept us without a full quarantine crew ready.” Rosalyn picked up his idea as fluidly as if it were her own. “And . . . and . . . we can get a call to CDAS, have them run a scan of their inventory before we even get close. Hell, I mean, we could even link up with the Salvager, get us all aboard and just tell MSC to annihilate the Brigantine.”

Edison snagged on that, making a face. “No . . . too risky. If any part of the Foxfire survived the blast, it could just be picked up by a junker.”

“Damn, all right, fair point.” At last she quit pacing, standing near the chair under the exposed wiring and hoses of the ceiling. He almost didn’t notice. Something was wrong. There was an abrupt absence in his thoughts, a space where none had been before, like a bulb going out in the night.

He tilted his head to the side, trying to chase that feeling. What was missing?

“Edison? Hey. Hey? Everything okay?”

“No,” he breathed. He risked it, letting the line between his thoughts and Mother’s blur until the whole connective tissue of the Foxfire network spread out around him, the growth becoming thick veins, redolent with life and sight. The veins were not as obvious as his fellow crewmates, Misato back in her quarters, Rayan moving about the lab, both bodies vivid and blue, limned in light. An image flashed across his brain, incomplete and hazy. A starched white collar, a smudge of something dark pink. Lipstick.

You can’t see your sibling, can you, baby? Where did he go? Find him.