“I don’t.”

“If you don’t trust me, what’s the point of this conversation?”

Akawe drew a hand across his chin while he studied her. “Your implants were burned out, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Pity. A wire scan could resolve this right quick.”

Anger burbled up within her. “Well, sorry to disappoint.”

He didn’t seem put off. “Let me ask you this: When you extend different parts of the xeno, can you feel the extensions? Like when you ripped the transmitter out of the wall, all those little tendrils, could you feel them?”

The question was so off-topic, it took Kira a second to answer. “Yes. They feel just like my fingers or toes.”

“Uh-huh. Okay.” Akawe surprised her then by unbuttoning the cuff of his right sleeve and rolling back the fabric. “Seems I might have a solution to our standoff, Ms. Navárez. It’s worth a shot, in any case.” He dug his fingernails into the underside of his bared wrist, and Kira winced as the skin peeled up in a rectangular shape. Even though she knew Akawe’s body was artificial, it looked so realistic, the sight of the skin lifting was still disconcerting on a visceral level.

Wires and circuits and pieces of bare metal were visible within Akawe’s arm.

As he fished out a line from inside his own forearm, the captain said, “This is a direct neural uplink, same as we use in implants, which means it’s analog, not digital. If the xeno can interface with your nervous system, then it ought to be able to do the same with me.”

Kira took a moment to think the idea through. It seemed unlikely, but—she had to concede—theoretically possible. “You realize how dangerous this could be?”

Akawe held out the end of the line toward her. It looked like fiber optic, even though she knew it wasn’t. “My construct has a bunch of built-in safeguards. They’ll protect me if there’s a surge in electricity or—”

“They won’t protect you if the xeno decides to crawl into your brain.”

Akawe pushed the line toward her, his expression serious. “I’d rather die right now, trying to stop the Jellies and the nightmares, than sit around doing nothing. If there’s even a chance this could work…”

She took a deep breath. “Alright. If something happens to you, though—”

“You won’t be held accountable. Don’t worry. Just try to make this work.” A glint of humor appeared in his eyes. “Trust me, I don’t want to die, Ms. Navárez, but this is a risk I’m willing to take.”

She reached out and closed her hand around the end of the neural link. It was warm and smooth against her palm. Shutting her eyes, Kira pushed the skin of the suit toward the end of the lead, urging it to join, to meld, to become.

The fibers on her palm stirred, and then … and then a faint shock ran up her arm. “Did you feel that?” she asked.

Akawe shook his head.