So much confuses him these days. He rubs his face with one hand, then drags his fingers through his hair, finally wrestling his other fingers free of the kitten as he bites a little too hard. He gives the little animal a boop on the nose. "Stop that."

To Malcolm, he says, "I don't know. Just--it's a prison ship. I know it's not a normal one. But should I be allowed to have a pet?"

What are the rules, Malcolm!?