She closed her eyes, and released a breath. Furious as she was, afraid as she was, she didn’t have it in her to do something so cruel as to kill Obelus while Ampersand was incapacitated. Not like this.

“I think I can help him,” she said. “Will you let me try?”

“Please, help him.”

Given that he didn’t seem to remember ever seeing a human before, he likely could not read human body language or facial expression. Which was a good thing, because that meant he could not read the glare of pure and unrefined hatred she was shooting at him.

She knelt next to Ampersand, holding the pill bug in the same place she remembered the Genome holding it, high on the back near the neck. The carapace of his back was among the parts of him that were most insect-like, and though fused into one piece, it reminded her almost of the wings of a cockroach or a praying mantis. Something zipped, clicked, and his eyes shot open.

He struggled to sit up, not quite pulling himself into a roost, but staying half cocked on his side as he lifted his head like a cat disturbed from its nap. He looked at Obelus and then at Cora. She didn’t even try to conceal her anger. “What have you done?”

Obelus said something to Ampersand in Pequod-phonemic, and the two had a short back-and-forth. Cora continued to glare at Ampersand, who eventually pulled himself up into a roost, tucking his forearms under him like a deer, looking at her like they were about to have a civil discussion about her grades this semester.

“What have you done?” she repeated, her voice trembling. “Why did you do this?”

“I told you that I would never allow Obelus to die if I could prevent his death.”

She grabbed the pulse emitter inside her hoodie, and she saw his focus shift to her hand.

“That will not work if I do not allow it.”

She saw that Obelus had inched toward her. “Keep him away from me!” she thundered, her voice bouncing off the smooth walls of the chamber for seconds.

Obelus backed away and said something to Ampersand. Ampersand stood up, loomed over her. “I would advise you to be cautious. He has not seen a natural alien before.”

A geyser of rage made her shoot to her feet. “Of course he fucking has!”

Obelus started in obvious alarm, and Ampersand moved his body between his amnesiac symphyle and Cora, his movements now having recovered that gravity-defying grace that defined him, glaring her down with that antagonistic expression that he generally only reserved for “militarists.” “His memories are suppressed, not erased. Stressful situations could destabilize the dampeners I have placed on his memories.”