Sannah lay in the foetal position, staring at the pitted wall. There was no way she could sleep, not now. The ratty couple, Reeta and Tooley, had told her eagerly, their voices climbing all over each other, that one of the chang pickers, Brock, knew all about the forest experiment. If Sannah wanted to know anything, he was the one to ask. And he'd be here, in this house, by dawn.

Is this it? Sannah's mouth was dry and her breath shallow, the musty fungus of the bedclothes seeping into her lungs with every inhalation. Am I nearly there? Will I find Judit, soon? She lifted her legs, closer to her chest. That's a good thing, she told herself. So why don't I feel happy? Why am I so scared?

Probably because I have no plan, no idea what to do, beyond this. So if she saved Judit, got her out of the forest, then what? Saunter back to Birchwood, get Judit sent straight back here, get herself methy'd? Sannah shuddered and pulled her knees tighter to her chest. Then, realising the obviousness of her body language, she lengthened her legs quickly to avoid giving away her troubled mental state.

Saint was awake too. He was standing by the window, staring through a hole in the threadbare sheet, both hands in pockets, shoulders hunched. He'd been silent since Reeta and Tooley left, but Sannah still felt on display, like every move she made laid her thoughts and feelings bare at his feet. She regulated her breathing, pretended to be asleep.

I can go back to the Metropol, Sannah reasoned. Make some digits. Get a place for me and Judit. Somewhere nice, with windows, like Faro and Dierdra. Yes, she could do that. She could work there. That would be okay. Forever? A small voice wheedled in the back of her head. So your life is dancing at the Metropol... and that's it?

I can still get the Sherbourne scholarship. Work at the Metropol, use the money from that to get me and Judit into an academy until the end of the year. She closed her eyes. The musty smell of the bedsheets made her want to retch.

And if not, I can stay with Saint. We could live together, in a place with windows. If I have him, it doesn't matter if I have to work at the Metropol forever. I'll be happy.

Sannah squeezed her eyes tight and grimaced, angry at herself. You're delusional, she scolded herself. As if Saint wanted to settle down with her, after a couple of meaningless rubs. She thought of Lox, all that time ago, pale and skeletal, like an addict. Now she was addicted. She'd lost all reason, all self respect. She was no better than Reeta on the chang.

I have to cut this off, Sannah thought, before I lose control completely. She had to sever the red threads that had bound her so completely to him; her veins and arteries, coming out of her body, wrapping themselves around his heart.

Somewhere far away, that would be the best thing. She'd take Judit to another town, get a job in some other seedy joint, just like the Metropol. Build a new life for them, somewhere nondescript. Highden, Calverley, Sutton, that kind of place. Start again. Try to get the scholarship. Be like Dr. William, from Faro's book. Write about stuff that mattered. Change the world.

"So what are you gonna do?" Saint spoke as if he could hear her thoughts.

Sannah stiffened and then sat up, turned to face him. He was cut through blue and gold, his face patterned geometric with deep shadow and streetlight.

"I can hang around. Drive us back," he added. He didn't look at her, his gaze fixed on the holes in the ersatz curtain.

"It's okay," Sannah said stiffly. I need to cut the cord. "I don't think I'll come back to Birchwood. It's too risky. I was thinking of going somewhere else. Highden. Sutton, maybe. Somewhere like that. Where no-one knows us."

Saint didn't reply, his eyes still on the street outside. A car went past, its headlights momentarily arcing white through the golden shapes on the walls and his face.

"I can drive you," he said eventually. "Drop you off. Wherever you decide to go."

"It's okay," Sannah responded clippily. "I've got some money. From the Metropol. We can get there. Besides... don't you have to get back? Like, Raph don't wait?" She imitated his words from the kitchen, earlier.

Saint shrugged. His face was still unreadable, though his jaw was set tighter now. "He can wait this once. I don't want Mas's job anyway. Might end up like Mas."

Sannah almost asked what happened to Mas, but she bit her tongue. She didn't really want to know. Aren't you already doing Mas's job? She thought, but didn't say anything. If Saint was having second thoughts about his quest for power and digits, it wasn't her issue.

"Nah," Sannah said, trying to make her voice as casual as possible. "You pick the shipment up, you get back. It's zen. You've done enough. I really appreciate it though, thanks. I'm fine from here."

He was still silent, inscrutable, his face hard as he stared out of the window. He opened his mouth as if to say something and Sannah tensed, unsure what it would be. He paused.

"They're here," he said finally, moving towards the door. "Let's go."

Sannah followed Saint through the narrow corridor, down the stairs and into the dark living room. The women were gone now. One of the video-game players was asleep, stretched out on the  floor. The other was still playing, the volume muted, his screen and the slatted, street-lit window the only light in the darkness.

Noise rising from the kitchen suggested a hive of activity, and Sannah realised more people had entered the house through the back. Saint started in that direction.

"Saint," she reached out, touched his arm as he departed.

He turned to look at her, and for that moment, when his eyes locked on hers, she gave up everything. Please stay. Take me back to Birchwood with you. Never leave. Let's get a house, with windows.

"If Brock is there..."

He nodded, and was gone.

Sannah lingered in the living room. She sat on the leather sofa, as far away from the tilted gamer as she could. She wasn't sure if he'd even noticed she was there. Her ears strained toward the noise coming from the kitchen. There were voices, the screech of a chair scraping across the floor, the dog, keening excitedly.

After a while, the industrious noise calmed, and then the door opened, letting in a rectangle of the kitchen's light. Sannah gripped the fabric of her trousers, all tumbled up in hope and fear, misery and hope. Reeta came through, rubbing her hands together, her weasel face gleeful.

"'E's ere," she crowed. "I told 'im you wanted to speak to 'im. I told 'im. 'E's ere."

Tooley pushed through after her, his eyes eagerly surveying Sannah's face, then a third person followed. It was a tall thin man, with dark, thick curls. He was dressed in a shabby green sweater and brown trousers and shoes, both caked in mud.

Sannah couldn't see anything else, as he was bent over, almost double. His hands were affectionately pulling and patting at the dog, a squat, muscular creature, which was winding and jumping around him in a writhing eruption of pure joy.

"She's a good girl, who's a good girl," he was cooing to the ecstatic creature, scratching its thick neck. "Yes, and I'm happy to see you too."

"This is Brock," Reeta said, coming to stand over Sannah on the sofa, too close.

Brock looked up from the dog and smiled at Sannah, polite but confused. "Hiya," he said. "What's going on then?"

She could see then that he was young, perhaps no older than her. He had a kind face, with a heavily bent nose, like it had been broken in the past and healed crooked. There was a smear of mud on his cheek. He was sleek despite it.

"I'm Sannah," Sannah stood up, her knees and voice shaking, glad he was less scary than she'd expected. "I want to know about the Sherborne experiment. In the forest. I... I..." She faltered.

Brock stared at Sannah, his previous smile dropping from his face. The dog yelped and jumped at his waist, protesting his displaced attention.

"Uh... Um..." He scratched his head, seemed to struggle to get his words. "Do you wanna go somewhere... else? To talk?

Sannah nodded, quickly. "We've got a room upstairs. If that's...?" She looked at Reeta and Tooley for permission. They looked crestfallen at not being privvy to the rest of the conversation, but Reeta nodded anyway.

Brock followed Sannah up the narrow stairs. The dog came with them. She could hear their footsteps behind her, his heavy and even, the creature's skittish and irregular. He followed her into the room and she shut the door.

"They've got my sister," she said, immediately. "I want to see her. Do you know how I can find her?"

Brock nodded uneasily, sat on the bed. The dog immediately jumped up and started licking his face.

"Um..." He looked at Sannah suspiciously. "Your sister?"

Sannah nodded again. She was full of nervous energy. She turned to the window, watched the streetlight through the holes, trying to regulate her speech. 

"My sister. And we're... We're orphans. She's all I've got." Sannah began to choke, liquid rising in her sinuses. She glanced at Brock again. His expression was more sympathetic now, probably because of her pathetic display of emotion. She felt almost ashamed.

"Look, I'm not being crook," Brock said, his voice cautious, "but you're Exotic?"

"I know." Sannah looked at him like he was an idiot.

"And they took your sister?"

She nodded again.

He pulled a face. The dog was trying to lick him right on the mouth now, and he pulled away to avoid it.

"Look, I'm sorry," Sannah said desperately, "I know this might seem off spec or whatever, but I just want to see Judit—my sister. Really. And if you have any information, on how I can get to her, then I'd like you to help me. Please." She was snapping now, her voice sharp, but she couldn't help it.

"Judit?" He echoed, his brows knotted.

"Yes," Sannah said, impatient. "I'll pay you. I have money." She started scrambling in her pockets.

He lifted his hands, palms towards her. "Nah, nah, that's not what I'm saying. I was just confused, is all. But I think I know..." He ducked back again, avoiding doggy kisses. "I mean, yes, I can help you. No money. I can take you right up there, to the camp. Tonight. If you're serious."

Sannah had to seriously restrain herself from jumping forward and hugging him. The dog would probably have bitten her, if she did. It had crawled into his lap now and was shivering pleasurably.

"Are you sure?" Sannah could barely speak. "Tonight? Really? We can go there?"

He nodded, fondling the dog's head, and smiled again, though his smile was unsure.

"Thank you, thank you so much." She was crying now, she couldn't help it. Fat, grateful tears welled in her eyes, dribbled down her cheeks, and she wiped them away.

"It's zen," he said. "We can meet outside here, at ten, if you wanna come. Don't... Don't tell anyone, okay?"

Sannah nodded about a thousand times. He stood up and the dog jumped to the floor. Its tail was wagging maniacally, as if it could sense the excitement in the room.

"Well. Nice to meet you..." He paused, searching.

"Sannah," she said. "And it's nice to meet you, Brock."

She was still smiling when he left. It hurt her mouth, it felt so alien. She sat on the bed, staring at the light patches on the wall. Tonight. I'm going to see Judit tonight. It didn't seem real.

I've done it, Sannah thought. I've nearly done it. This is it, now. It's on. She sat for a moment, trying to digest what was happening.

I'm going. Sannah breathed in, and a huge yawn rolled up from her stomach until her eyes watered. Suddenly, she was brutally tired. It was early morning, and she hadn't slept all night.

I should get rested here, she thought, while I have a bed. At least until Saint's finished whatever he's doing. I might be walking the streets after he's gone.

She scowled. And perhaps if I'm sleeping, I won't have to say goodbye. Somehow, that thought managed to dampen all her excitement about Judit. She just wanted to sleep, cut off her jerky mind.

Sannah remembered Reeta and Tooley had pointed out the bathroom when they'd arrived, and she crept out to the corridor and to the room at the end. It was filthy, with no toilet paper, but she was used to that from Saint's place. She used the toilet gratefully and took a good slug of icy water from the tap, her head dipped into the sink, tendrils of wetted hair snaking into the plug.

It's okay, Sannah told herself, turning off the tap, wiping her cheek. Everything's okay. I'm in control. It's nearly over. It's okay. I'm going to get Judit. Saint doesn't matter. It's okay.

She stepped out into the corridor, repeating her mantra, and believing it too. Then she heard it.

She heard it, and the world stopped turning.

She heard it, and she wasn't in control any more.

Sannah froze, looked around, wild eyed, for the source of the sound.

Surely it was in my head?

It wasn't. There it was again. It was coming from the other side of one of the doors, thick and bolted.It was unmistakable.

I'm going mad.

Sannah bit her lip and ran back to the room. She slammed the door as hard as she could. Sinking to the floor, she began to cry.