“Do you wish me to stay, child?” Felicity leans down but the Proxy turns away from her.

Benjamin turns to the door. Reluctant, Davis follows. Even Felicity leaves before Jamie, who gives me a long hard look.

“What?” It comes out more aggressive and resentful than I feel.

“You’re not the only person with something to lose. I want my sister back.”

I want to shout, The only danger Kitty’s in is because of your interference! I want to yell, Aiden would never hurt her! I want to scream, She’s safe, you stubborn prejudiced bastard! I want to hammer my fists on his chest and force him to admit he’s wrong, that he understands why I did what I did. I want to beg him to forgive me and let me back in and plead my case to his parents. I grit my teeth. “Then let me get on with it.”

When the door clicks closed I stare at the Proxy. She licks her swollen lip. I wait for her to say something. She doesn’t. I realise she hasn’t spoken once since we woke up in the van. Not even when I hit her. My curiosity barely gets to its feet. So what if she’s mute? “Shall we?”

“I’m not mute and no one has ever hit me before.”

“Really? I would have thought most people want to hit you within the first five minutes of having you in their head.”

Her swollen mouth twitches with a small laugh and she winces. “It hurts.”

“It’s supposed to.”

She looks away from me. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

It takes me a moment then I realise she doesn’t mean being hit. She means being her. “I might have given a shit before you fried Miriam’s brain. Now, not so much.” Conscious that there will be someone with genetically enhanced hearing outside the door, I think, I won’t help you escape so you go ahead and tell them what I am.

You’ve already helped me, her voice fills my head.

“What?” I say aloud.

I’m here.

I think, If you try to run, I will seriously hurt you.

I believe you.

I hate her impassive face and close my eyes so I don’t have to look at it. “Get on with it.”

“I can teach you how to block,” she says, aloud. I open my eyes and we’re holding hands, standing next to our seated selves in the motel room. Just like ReProg with the Symbiosis effect. Controlled hallucination. My first instinct is to jerk away. She shakes her head. “I mean it. I can teach you how to block their signals so you can focus no matter who’s in the room.”

“This isn’t playtime.”

“I can teach you how to block precognition in a fight, draw strength from your opponent’s signal and use it to overpower them.”

“Really? Why don’t you do it then?”

She screws her mouth up. “I’m a telepath, not a Shield. My body isn’t strong like yours.”

“We’re wasting time.”

“That thing you do with glass is a form of telekinesis, you know?”

I don’t want to show any sign of interest in anything she has to say that isn’t about finding Aiden and saving Miriam, but she sees my hesitation.

“I can’t even do that, manipulate matter, but I could show you how to focus and control your gift so you can do it on purpose, not just when you’re upset.”

“They’re kind of your things, aren’t they? Control and manipulation.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Get on with it.” I close my eyes again and this time it’s the comforting black inside of my head. Thank goodness.

“Picture your brother. Bring him into focus. Find a physical memory as if you’re going to Transfer. Remember his signal. Now reach.”

I know immediately this is different. When I reached for Jamie, the night after his mother shot me and he was out stalking Richard and I was bleeding on his parents’ kitchen counter, it was a plunge into static, an ocean of bandwidth, or like trying to see through a storm. This is like standing on a mountain top on a clear night. My spine carries the hum and buzz but there’s no painful zapping pins and needles, no roar in my ears. It’s like flying.

Aiden’s eyes, his nose, cheekbones, mouth, his smile, his voice. I carry the details close, reaching, reaching. I think, Where are you? Aiden. I need you. Miriam needs you.

We’re only a mile or two from Joss Hill. Tesla thought it best to check ahead of time if I could sense him, so we could plan our approach, not wanting to spook Aiden into running or charge into the old summerhouse and start a fight. I wouldn’t let them do that anyway. I would go to Aiden alone. I would sit with him, explain, prepare him for Tesla. I wouldn’t let Davis or Benjamin anywhere near him. My anxiety is all over the place, afraid of finding him and not finding him in equal measure.

“He’s not there,” she says.

“I know.”

“You’re strong.”

What am I supposed to say – thanks?

“Stronger than you think.”

“Not strong enough to block you out.”

“Not yet.”

I open my eyes, in my seat, no out-of-body hallucinations, back in the here and now. The Proxy opens her eyes and starts to peel the sensors from her temples. Tesla strides in with the small silver disc in his hands. “We will take the next reading at the house.”

I don’t ask how he knew we were finished. He must have been listening.

“Do not give up hope,” he says.

I don’t know what to hope for.

RAIN

The house is empty, I tell myself the moment we pull up. It’s impossible to sense anything through the torrential rain, static crackling in my head, but I know Kitty and Aiden aren’t inside. Of course not. It was never the plan for Aiden to sit in the old beach house, waiting. He was just supposed to take the jeep and keep moving, checking back in a fortnight for any sign of a message from me. How far would he travel with two weeks in mind for laying low?

I sense Jamie watching me, the tension in his body, like he might burst from the van at the slightest sign from me that his sister is in there. I make myself meet his gaze and give a small uncertain shake of my head. I don’t know. It’s barely visible but his shoulders drop and I can’t ignore the plunge of regret in my stomach.

“No heat signatures,” Davis says, handing the rectangular scanner back to Benjamin in the front seat. Felicity sighs.

A street away the ocean beats the shore. We sit in the van on the front lawn, the rain pelts the roof. It’s loud. My head aches from six hours in a small space with the static of five other signals. Somehow the Proxy keeps her noise on mute. I envy the others; none of them are wincing and massaging their temples. I can’t wait to get out of the van. Neither can the Proxy, her eyes on the rain-streaked window. She’s holding her breath.

I rivet my focus on her, reaching into the bandwidth for clues. She couldn’t possibly try for an escape now. Not when Tesla can paralyse her, us, with a press of a button. Not out in the open. She couldn’t run far. She swivels her head towards me, a small smile at her lips, but I can’t read a single thing in the static. Not even a pulse.

Benjamin opens the doors, the shoulders of his black sweatshirt already saturated, his skin glistening in the wet, tense, distracted, a warning look in his eyes that says, don’t try anything stupid. I scowl to remind him that I despise him for destroying Aiden’s blood sample, to remind him that I don’t trust him either, then I push past out onto the lawn. Gulping air, ozone and icy damp, I’m grateful for the sodden grass beneath my feet though it soaks my sneakers. Out here the signals fade and the weight on my temples lifts and the noise in my head dials down. I tip my face up, let the rain pool above my cheeks, open my mouth and taste the sea salt in the air. It feels so good to move and stretch after spending the whole road trip holding myself rigid, trying not to bump thighs and shoulders with Jamie.

“Look,” Davis says.

I wipe my face and turn.