“Terminate the pregnancy.”

“Why do you care?”

His mouth compresses. “The Holy Mother sits in your hall. Shouldn’t you care?”

“It belonged to my grandmother.”

He shrugs.

“You would have let someone else do it,” I say. Am I trying to bait him?

He taps something on the handle, the barrel splits in two. He presses the long top of the T-bar to my abdomen and I flinch against the cold.

“I would have,” he says.

It beeps once and he moves it slowly down, searching for the right spot.

“Not much of a stand.”

“That’s what Helena says.” He moves the instrument until it beeps a long continuous note. Something clicks and the note stops. A faint rushing sound follows.

I draw a shuddering breath. “What’s she like?”

“Helena?” He watches the silver instrument. “Smart, clever, kind.”

“Beautiful.”

“She is one of us. Hold still.”

I close my eyes, again with tears. “They could be happy together.”

“They could have been.”

I look at him.

“His chance is gone and so is hers,” he says.

I struggle up on my elbows. “What are you talking about?”

“Lie still.” He pushes me back. “You know this. You have been with him. When Synergists bond their signals bind also. It cannot be undone.”

“But–” I knew there were binding words, a ceremony and such, but Miriam never said … Jamie never said … “When you say, been with–”

“I will release the gauge, you will be paralysed for a moment. It will hurt then you will be unconscious and you will feel nothing.”

SANCTION

A colossal crash wakes me, then raised voices, Miriam’s angry exclamation as she hurries out of my bedroom and down the stairs. I lurch up. Bad idea. My head throbs, my pelvis aches, the back of my neck burns; I can’t have been out long. Hostile voices echo from the hall below. I swing my feet off the bed and fumble for my jeans. By the time I get my pants on – a stiff, stinging exercise bending over tender skin – the voices have cooled. Silent, hunched, I tiptoe out onto the landing.

“Perhaps we could make an effort not to damage the Assets.” Tesla.

Davis pants and spits, his voice muffled. “He broke my nose, sir.”

“You provoked him.”

“Gallagher’s out of his mind,” Davis says.

Tesla sighs. “Mr Nelson, check Jamie’s tracker. Make sure it has not dislodged.”

The sound of movement.

“I’ll pack the van.” Davis. Heavy shuffling steps.

“Ridiculous.” Felicity clicks her tongue.

“The incision’s closed,” Benjamin says. “The tracker’s still in place.”

“Thank you. You can help Davis.”

“Sir, I’m not sure anyone can help Davis.”

Benjamin’s long even stride, Felicity’s short steps behind him. Movement in the kitchen. The back door opens and closes.

Silence.

Carefully, I lower myself to the floor. It’s too painful to lie on my stomach so I shift onto my side, jamming my head up against the skirting for a glimpse of what’s going on. Through a triangle of space between the ceiling and stairs I see the bookcase in the hall has lost a shelf and all of Miriam’s books, collectibles and junk mail are scattered across the floor. The Virgin teeters on the edge of her porcelain robes in the little alcove. Tesla crouches on the floor picking things up. Jamie’s legs poke out into the hall from the living room. Miriam squats down beside him. He’s not moving.

“Leave it,” Miriam says, over her shoulder. “I’ll clean up later. What was this about?”

Tesla rises slowly to his feet. “I had Benjamin upgrade Jamie’s tracker. The reading was high. I commented that he has lost a lot of ground from when he was following the Deactivation Program. Davis remarked that we could all guess why. Jamie punched him.”

I can only see the back of Miriam’s head, but I can picture her look of disgust. My insides tie in double-knots. He knows. Of course he knows. They all do.

“This is a long way from the table,” Miriam says.

“Davis responded with his baton. Set to maximum.”

She shakes her head.

“It will wear off shortly.” There’s a long pause then he says, “They have to end it.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Without a sanction they cannot be together. He made a commitment to the program. To Helena.”

“He loves Evangeline.” Miriam looks up at him.

For one moment I squeeze my eyes tight shut. My heart, a drowning thing.

Finally he says, “Then he will do what is right.”

Her jaw hardens and she rises to her feet. “They’re Synergists.”

He flinches, his lips parting, his frown bearing down. “Have they …?”

“She says they haven’t.”

I clench my fists.

Exhaling, he grips his temples between thumb and forefinger, as though the whole idea gives him a headache. “When she comes in for Orientation, there will be no way to hide this from the Proxy.”

Proxy.

The word sends an icy chill up my spine. I picture the little girl in the tank and the room with black glass. What the hell is a Proxy? The child? The tank of goo? Some kind of telepathic A-bomb? And why does the Synergist issue need to be a secret? Is it more than disapproval of unsanctioned relationships?

“I know,” Miriam says. “But you can do something. Felicity could–”

“Felicity does not control the Proxy.”

“I’m just saying–” Her voice breaks. “You’re in a position to help her.”

Tesla doesn’t reply.

Miriam swipes the back of her wrist across her eyes; that deep mournful note thrums in the bandwidth.

Jamie groans, shifts his legs.

In the driveway, the van starts up.

Tesla hesitates as though about to speak. His hands ball into fists then release. He swivels on his heel and strides out of sight through the kitchen and out the back door.

My mind in total disorder, I rise as quickly and quietly as I can, press my hands to my eyes, steady myself and make my way downstairs, stepping over the mess in the hallway. Through the window I catch a glimpse of the van pulling out onto the road. Black. Tinted windows. Not remotely subtle.

Jamie has hauled himself up to sit with his back against the couch. Miriam pokes at a cut on his eyebrow, making him wince. He reaches to feel for the lump in the back of his neck.

“You should be resting,” Miriam says, not looking at me.

“I’m fine.” I’m disintegrating.

Jamie squints up at me. I lower myself onto the couch beside him, nudging his shoulder with my leg, working to keep my face even. “Defending my honour?”

He frowns. Miriam’s head snaps up.

“I heard Tesla.”

“You did?” she says. “Then you heard what he said about you two.”

“Miriam,” Jamie begins.

“It’s over. I’m sorry, but you knew from the start it would have to be like this. You both have trackers now. There’s no getting round it. Say your goodbyes and go.” She stands, her sombre gaze on me. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re done.”

We both stare at her back as she crosses the hall to her studio, and watch through the glass door when she closes it behind her. She disappears around the corner to the darkroom, making her way to the hidden training room below. Neither of us speaks. I’m not sure that I can; my mind feels ransacked. All my contained fear of the impossible, inevitable end, tipped over and spilling through me.

“Did he hurt you?” Jamie asks, not looking at me, his voice low and lead heavy.

“No.” I wallow in the view of his profile, the flecks of gold in his hair, the play of light and shadow defining his cheekbone and jaw. He needs a shave.

“Benjamin’s my friend, but … I wanted to kill him.”

“Least you got to punch Davis.”

He draws his knees up and examines the red skin on his knuckles. “There’s that.”

We sit in silence for a while and it hurts to breathe.

“So, you ran.”

I sink inside. How can I tell him I want to help Aiden when he’s cost the Gallaghers so much? Jamie’s not cruel. I know he regrets I’ll lose my brother – that Miriam will lose a son – when Affinity find out. We’ve talked about it before, argued about it, but deep down he believes in the protocol. A guarantee that Aiden will never put another family through what his went through. “I guess I freaked out. I knew it would all be over: us, Aiden, my future.”