Sasha sat on the king-size bed with the black sheets, watching Dean pull his white tee over his pale body and throw it inside out on the floor. He loosened his belt, unzipped his jeans, and yanked them over his knees. Her stomach twisted into knots. She was being unfaithful to Nug, her Nugget, and it didn't feel good. It felt exciting--like jumping off a high-diving board. But the prospect of slamming into deep water gave her the shivers.

"Are you gonna keep your necklace on? The diamonds make you look sexy."

She had slipped off the black evening gown and was about to unbutton her bra. She stopped and looked at him. "It won't get broken, will it?"

"Nah, I'll be gentle...this time." He gave a forced laugh and she detected a note of nervousness.

"Are you sure you want to do this now? I mean, we've only known each other since yesterday."

He grunted and shifted his body closer to her on the bed. "Why not? We've got this luxury bedroom to ourselves."

Shaking off her misgivings, she unfastened her bra. He rolled toward her, his pants around his ankles. "Let's do it," he whispered.

She put her hand up to his face.  Flimsy traces of his beard clung to his cheeks. "All right."

She shrugged off the rest of her clothes and he responded by rolling on top of her. He began pumping, gasping and grunting. She felt his vigor go slack. "What's the matter?" 

"I'm running out of steam," he replied hoarsely. "I thought I had more go in me, but..."

"It's all right. You wanna just rest for a bit?"

He squirmed in embarrassment. "Let's give it one more try." 

He smiled and tried to crank up his lust, but after a few minutes it was clear his vigor had fully disappeared. He rolled off her, his breathing ragged, and lay on his back. 

She stared at him and wondered at his lack of stamina. He looked strained and the smile on his face had turned into a grimace. "It's okay," she said. "God knows, I might bump into Nug tomorrow and I don't know what I'd say if--"

"--he found out I shagged you? Yeah, I guess that would be awkward. Now I feel like a shit." He looked crestfallen and pulled his pants up. "I suppose we better get going. The fucking dream's over."

She blinked in surprise at his vehemence. She felt terrible. "Look, Dean, I--"

He turned away from her and zipped up his pants. "The dream's dead. We'll never have this chance again. Tomorrow this place will be packed with revos. I'll put the diamonds back."

She returned the black gown to the closet. He put on the bushy black beard and glasses with steel-rimmed frames and bottle lenses, while she dressed in silence. She wanted to say something to console him, but thought better of it.

They headed back to the safe house, Dean silent at the wheel. A sick feeling of doom pummeled her stomach. As they slipped through the shabby streets of East London, she gave voice to her fears. "Somethin's wrong at the house. I can feel it in my belly."

He gave a short cynical laugh. "Your belly, Sasha, is about as trustworthy as my dick."

"No, I really mean it. I get feelin's about things and they--"

"--turn out to be true. So you're clairvoyant."

"I am." The potholed road they were rattling along was making her anxiety pains worse. 

"Well, tap into your intuition and tell us what they're cooking for dinner." He was grinning at the wheel.

They crept onto the street where the safe house stood and parked at the curb. The house looked as ratty as ever and was deathly quiet. 

"Be careful, Dean." She hurried after him to the front door. He opened it and tramped into the house.

Sneaking cautiously into the dark hall, she recoiled. Through a wide-open door, she saw an unholy mess. The kitchen had been completely overturned. Dean stood bemused in the middle of a garbage-strewn floor. The table and all the chairs had been knocked over and kicked to pieces. She ran to join him and looked down, horrified, at heaps of broken crockery and damaged food. 

"Looks like the purples have paid us a visit," he said. "I don't think we'll be dining in tonight."

They stumbled from room to room. The living-room was totally devastated, the wall decorations defaced, and even the poster of Steamgrinder had been torn in half. The piles of smashed furniture and knickknacks made her eyes swim. "D'you think Chas and the others are..?"

"Barring a miracle, yeah. They're either dead, in hospital, or in the nick--poor buggers. Thank God we went out for the day."

He stepped over the debris, opened the back door, and ventured outside. She trailed behind him across the yard. He unlocked the door of a barn-like garden shed. "I hope they didn't find my stash." 

She looked at him curiously. "What kind of stash?"

Without replying, he entered the shed and began pulling out rusty junk piled up inside. Sunlight filtered through a grimy window and his rummaging threw up motes of dust that floated in the air. "Found it," he called.

She leaned close to him, smelling the sweat on his body. He was fondling a device wrapped in smartfab. A cloud of dust specks tickled her nostrils. "Is it a rifle?"

He grinned as he unrolled it. "A very hi-tech one, yeah. It's a more powerful version of the ULF handgun. It takes out purples, armos, drones, you name it."

She peered into the gloom at a barrel, a butt, and a breech that had no clip to load in cartridges. "How does it work?" 

"Same as the gun you saw yesterday. Ultra-low frequency sounds can move objects by altering their vibrations and rearranging their particles."

"Does it scramble the bots' innards?" 

He chuckled. "Pretty much." He wrapped the smartfab back around the device. "We better clear out of here before the purples pick up on us. Their sensors are gonna be on high alert."

"Where are we goin'?"

"I've no idea. If the purples found this place, they must know where the other safe houses are. We'll have to get creative."

He stowed his weapon away and they returned to the kitchen. There wasn't a stick of furniture that hadn't been broken, so they shoveled all the scattered fragments into one big pile and made enough space to sit on the floor. 

She noticed an unbroken bottle of Chardonnay amid the debris, got up and opened it. Brushing shards of crockery from the kitchen counter, she set about making cheese and pickle sandwiches after finding an undamaged jar of Branson's Pickle.

He was deep into his ajna, sending and receiving messages. He finally looked up. "Bad news, Sash. All the safe houses were raided today and a lot of activists were rounded up. I tried to get a friend of mine to take us, but he's moving his girlfriend in and doesn't have space. It's a long shot, but one person who might help is your sister, Nika. How well do you know her?"

"Haven't seen her for ten years," she said, looking round.

She brought the bottle and a plate of sandwiches from the counter and sat on the floor beside him. "Mum put me into foster care when I was seven and I haven't seen Nika since, though I found out she was working at a college."

"Guess there's gonna be a family reunion tonight, then."  He glugged from the bottle and scarfed a sandwich. "I'll give Nika a warble."

"She'll get a shock when I turn up." She smiled as she took the bottle of wine from him. "She prob'ly thinks I'm dead."

He chomped off a piece of sandwich, swallowed it, and frowned. "Okay...about this guy Klar, the one you met at the train station. You said he was nice to you at first. What happened after that?"

She pulled a long swig from the bottle, then took a sandwich. "He raped me. A bunch of times."

"Bastard."

"He got me stoned first. That's how he found out I'm clairvoyant. He tried to get stuff from my mind for Catalysis to make droids clairvoyant. But he didn't get much, so he let me go. Then Nug had his fall and Catalysis pulled me in."

"Catalysis--the more I hear about 'em, the less I like 'em." He devoured more of the sandwich. "What did he do after they pulled you in?"

She took a bite from her sandwich and considered his question. "He and his bitch, Lois, put me in one of their suites, on the promise of lettin' me see Nug, but they kept fuckin' with me. Anyway, Klar got into my secret mind one day when I was drunk."

He gave her a quizzical stare. "Where's your secret mind, Sash?" 

She took another bite and looked thoughtful. "I can't really explain. It's where I go whenever I'm in trouble and I need to know stuff... Stuff only Tinker can tell me."

"Tinker? Is that your pet kitty?" He started to laugh with his mouth full and began choking, his eyes watery.

She rolled her eyes. "I knew you wouldn't understand. Men never do. Klar knows I'm clairvoyant, but even he didn't--"

"Don't let's talk about that lav plunger." He raked his fingers through his green hair. "Look, I'm sorry, Sash, I don't mean to rag on you. You're an amazing person. Tell me about Tinker."

"Okay, now listen."  A trace of frustration sharpened her tone. "Tinker's my closest friend--I've known her since I was a tot. She's a fairy, so she don't live in this world. But sometimes I wish I didn't either."

"Amen. So where does Tinker live?"

She seized the bottle and took a long dramatic swig. "If I get drunk enough, maybe you can talk to her yourself."

"I'd love to." He looked at her with interest as she drank more wine.

"Let's give it some time." She took a final swill from the bottle.

She handed the bottle to him and closed her eyes. "Now I feel good. Power to the people."

"Power," he said, then more lightly: "Let's drink to the revolution." He got up, brought two chipped mugs from the counter, and poured out the last of the wine. He held out his mug. "To the revolution."

She tapped hers against it. "To the revolution." She finished her wine while he studied her. Under his searching gaze she lowered her eyes, blushing. I can't believe he's making me feel so nervous. He's only a guy, after all.

His ajna began to tinkle and he sighed. The voice she had heard before--Nika's voice--spoke in a worried tone, cutting through her woozy thoughts. "Dean, what's happening? The police are out looking for you."

He sucked in his cheeks. "Oh hi, Nika. Yeah, I've gotta keep a low profile right now. By the way, I'm with your sister, Sasha."

She sat on the floor, looking at his face as he spoke. She found his innocent, blue-eyed features, even his wacky green hair, strangely comforting and wondered how their relationship would turn out, now they were both homeless and on the run.

"You must come over to my place," Nika was saying, "and bring Sasha--I can't wait to see her again."

Do I want to see Nika after all this time? That's a bloody good question. Oh well, let's see how it goes.

An hour later, they were gliding away from the shattered safe house in the sapphire-blue Benz with the illegally-fitted steering wheel. Slanting rain, batted away by the wipers, coated and recoated the windshield. She wore her welder's goggles and rakish beret, feeling faintly ridiculous, and Dean sported his bristling black beard, the slouchy beanie concealing his green hair. 

Her head swirled with thoughts about her sister and memories of her fractured childhood as gusts of slashing rain pelted the windshield. The squally weather and turbulent wind kept the streets free of  people and traffic, and they were soon slipping through the suburbs of a nicer part of town. 

The car stopped and she glimpsed an apartment block with smooth, smartglass walls, gleaming in a myriad of iridescent colors, and rows of docking bays for eemees.  She climbed out and nervously watched him remove the steering console and tuck it under his arm. Rain-splattered, they scooted up a broad walkway flanked by purple rhododendrons and myrtle trees and a glistening, halogen-lit lawn.  

Christ, this place is posh. Nika must be earning a packet.

The optical entrance gates, recognizing Dean's features, parted to let them into a spacious elevator lobby. Her nervousness was growing by the minute and she tripped over as she stepped into the elevator. Climbing to her feet, she gave an embarrassed smile. 

"The tension is killin' me." She flicked dust off her yellow pants. "I'm so nervous. By the way, we better take off our disguises." She removed her huge shades and black beret.

He pulled off his beard and beanie, and grinned. "You and Nika will get on fine, Sash. She's a really nice gal." As they hurtled to the thirteenth floor, his ajna sent Nika a notification of their arrival.

In a deep golden silk shirt and yellow velvet pants, Nika stood at the front door of her apartment as she and Dean traipsed out of the lift. She smiled at her sister's easily recognized olive-skin and tumbling black curls, but frowned at taut lines around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. 

"Oh my God--it's you!" Nika screamed. She dashed up to her and began hugging her energetically.

"Easy, Sis, my back's a bit stiff."  She allowed herself to be hugged, a little awkwardly, and smiled at Nika's beaming face. Nika released her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"Let's have some nosh."  Nika's arms shepherded her and Dean into the living room. "You guys must've been through hell."

"Nothing your Wonder Woman sister and I couldn't handle." Dean sounded nonchalant. "We do need somewhere to hide up for a few days, though."

"You can stay as long as you like, m'dears," Nika said, "though god knows how long I'm going to be living here. I'm on the brink of being fired."

"You should fight it through the union, Nika." Dean plonked himself in the gold Egyptian chair.

"I'm done with unions, employers, the whole shebang. I'm going to throw in my lot with you guys. Where do I sign up?"

Dean chuckled. "Nika the revolutionary. Break out the pitchforks."

She followed her sister into the kitchen and watched her rooting around inside the fridge. "I'm looking for the last bottle of Chilean mead. Unless Robo has some red stashed away."

Hearing a swishing noise, she caught sight of Nika's robot houseboy trundling into the kitchen from a side room. "Do we have any red wine left, Robo?" Nika asked.

"I used the last of the red in the coq au vin. I've got some Marsala if you're in the mood."

"Sure--unless you're making zabaglione."

"It's Firm Favorites Friday," his grating voice chafed. "Dessert is maple rice pudding with chopped dates and pecans."

Robo rattled up to them with the bottle of Marsala and placed three glasses on a tray. He poured the wine, turned toward her and gave her a clicking, whirring curtsey. "Pleased to meet you, Sasha," he purred.

"Likewise, Robo." She smiled and began blushing.

"Pity you don't drink, Robo," Nika said. "You could have a glass with us."

The rubber lips on his alloy head gave a sigh. "Maybe in my next lifetime."

Before departing to the side pantry, which she guessed was also his charging station, Robo plated the coq au vin, garnished with asparagus spears and baby carrots, and left the rice pudding on the counter in a heated dish. They sat down to the meal and began to eat heartily.

"What have you been up to these last ten years, Sash?" Nika said.

She was breathing in the aroma of wine-flavored onions, mushrooms, potatoes, and garlic and had to ask her sister to repeat the question. "Sorry, I'm a bit pooped tonight."

"That's okay, Sash. We can catch up on our lives another time. Let's just enjoy Robo's cooking."

"Dead right," Dean said, attacking a chunk of chicken breast. "This is the best meal I've had in weeks."

She drained a glass of the fortified wine, and Nika poured her another. Under its effect, she mumbled a rambling account of her homeless life and how it had brought her to Dean. "We met when I was about to be mashed by a dirty great purple bot, and Dean laid him on his arse."

"I was her knight in shining armor," he said. "Our relationship's been going downhill ever since."

The others laughed. "So you guys are an item, then," Nika said.

Her face reddened. "I've got a boyfriend called Nug, but he's on the run, too, and I haven't seen him in a while."

Nika's eyes widened. "What a bummer. Well, I hope it all works out for you."

Attempting to reply, she stumbled over her words. She was growing light-headed and struggled to keep up with Dean and Nika's conversation.

"What's your next move, Nika?" Dean asked. "Are you gonna sue ELU for unfair dismissal?"

"Ha! Do you know what my lawyer bills are already?" Nika held out her glass for a refill and Dean poured himself another. "The Corrigans are out to crucify me, Dean. The slimeball son not only planted drugs in my car, reported me to the police, and told the media about it--he wants to sue my arse off. They've gone into overdrive."

"Old man Corrigan's a really big piece of you-know-what," Dean told her, "but I can't see why they want to crush you like a bug."

She smiled ruefully. "I think I'm meant to be a warning to all the postdocs in the Physics Department not to mess with the launch of the Photon Detector."

"Oh yeah, the fabled PD--the wave of the future." His voice was getting slurred. 

The wine was flowing from bottle to glasses and, in spite of her fatigue, she slurped another full glass.

"Do you know Sasha's a clairvoyant, Nika?" Dean gave a breezy laugh and spooned a mouthful of rice pudding.

"I'm not sure I know what a clairvoyant is," Nika murmured. "I've been studying the mind for years, but clairvoyance is a closed book to me."

She silently allowed the alcohol to filter through her thoughts. After a lapse that felt like hours condensed into minutes, she opened her mouth and Tinker's piping voice rang out. "Clairvoyance isn't a mystery, Nika. It's a natural means of warning people of happenings with which their senses are not familiar. It's the mind's way of protecting you by giving you its knowledge. If you didn't have clairvoyance, you'd all go insane."

Nika leaned forward, fascinated. "So is it a form of telepathy?"

Tinker gave a spritely laugh. "Clairvoyance is telepathy telling you: 'Be careful! ' and hoping you'll get the message."

Dean smiled at her. "You're Tinker, aren't you?"

"Who the hell is Tinker?" Nika asked. "Not that I mind her joining the party."

"Tinker is Sasha's fairy friend. She lives in another world." Dean spooned more pudding.

"I see." Nika pondered his words. "Does Tinker only communicate with us when Sasha's tipsy?"

"So it seems." He tried to laugh, though his mouth was crammed full.

"Well, I'm honored to talk with you, Tinker," Nika said to her. "What can you tell us about the blessed Photon Detector Mr Corrigan loves so much?"

She turned her face up to the ceiling and Tinker gave a sigh. "A pathetic attempt to mimic the mechanisms of the body. There are parts of the brain you guys don't use that connect you to the mind, making you aware of future probabilities and which of them are likely to play out in your lives. If you knew how, you could read the mind much better than any artificial device."

Nika was taken aback. "My life's work just went down the shitter. Thank you, Tinker."

"You're welcome," Tinker replied. "You need to activate all your brain parts, not just the few you guys habitually use. Then you'll know what the mind knows."

Nika and Dean exchanged bemused glances. Her head had started to slump. After a couple moments she lifted her face and gave the others a puzzled look, flushing at the sight of their wondering stares. "Tinker was just here, wasn't she?"

"Oh yeah," Dean muttered. "She went to town."

"She knows a lot of stuff." She tumbled out the words. "I never know what she's gonna say next."

"She's wonderful," Nika said. "Okay, you guys, you must be very tired. I know I am. Do you mind sharing the guest bed?"

She shook her head and smiled.

"We were sharing a nice 'guest' bed today," Dean said, "so it'll be even nicer to share yours tonight."