"There's got to be something." Mal can't- won't turn into one of those things. And if it's spreading- why doesn't he have it? Why is it selectively targeting Immune? Natives- natvies can't do anything but they're supposed to be resistant. And Mal's got scales and lost himself and-

Deep breaths. His fingers twitch for want of his knitting before he steps in close, looping his arm around Malcolm's waist. "It'll- we'll figure it out. Okay?"