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their anti-social childhood behavior patterns if they follow a normal line of development. Positive reinforcement for good behavior and so on. And then brain implants at the age of eighteen make them far more rational.” End of subject, as far as Harry was concerned.
    “So, initially, it all depends on monitoring by parents and teachers,” said Jayna.
    “That’s an interesting point. Parents would like you to think otherwise but we’ve had a review at the department concluding that teachers play a much more important role…” He threw his hands out. “They have more time. They focus on behavioral issues and developing wider curiosities in the children so that, in later life, they can pursue special interests in their leisure time.”
    “That’s true,” said Jayna. “My boss, Olivia, is an amateur authority on medievalism. She keeps replicas of historical artifacts in her office and then there’s
Jesse Recumbent
.”
    Harry wasn’t listening. “Implantation, you see, frees up teachers’ time. They just cover the basics for children who will remain fully organic. If they’re never implanted they can at least read and write properly. No point bothering with more.”
    The canteen assistant lumbered past their table, glanced at Jayna, and said, “Bangers ’n’ Mash.”

    Back in her room, Jayna pulled the rest station handbook from the top of her wardrobe and tore out a page. She made a series of creases and folds to form a long slim sleeve. She slid the tiny corpse of the second-smallest stick insect into the paper shroud and laid it in her palm. After a moment’s contemplation, she placed the shroud atop the handbook and lifted them both onto the wardrobe. Safe there, for now. And with the corpse dealt with, she set about cleaning the cage, collecting the droppings and tiny eggs that lay intermingled on the cage floor. One day, she would raise some nymphs. They would all be female, which was a shame; she’d like the extra variable.
    Carausius morosus, Indian walking stick. Wingless. Up to ten centimeters in length. Lifespan: one year. Parthenogeneticreproduction: only one in ten thousand nymphs is male. Incomplete metamorphosis: egg, nymph, adult. Nymphs moult five or six times by shedding their exoskeleton.

    Cleaning job finished, Jayna lay curled up on her bed and allowed her thoughts to be dictated by whatever fell under her gaze. The joints between the architrave and the skirting board always screamed at her when she lay facing the door. The skirting board had been cut three centimeters too short and a small piece of wood had been pushed in to fill the gap. But no amount of paint could ever conceal the poor workmanship. No doubt, the joiner had failed to appreciate how many minutes and hours of irritation this error would cause over subsequent years.
    And then, the dressing gown hanging from a single hook on the back of the plain-faced door. Jayna became aware she was describing how the garment hung as a set of equations—approximated, for she wasn’t trying too hard—equations that described the peaks and troughs of all the folds. She allowed the dinner conversation to seep into her thoughts.
Do bionics like Hester and Benjamin play with mathematics in the same way? If I were an organic, even a smart organic like Dave, would I see a hanging garment and think about the folds or would I simply…see it?
    As she climbed into the warm bed a cold thought crept in beside her.
The joiner’s mistakes are no worse than my own
. The lights started to fade.
A westerly wind, one dead family. The smallest stick insect, still thriving.
The room was dark and all she could see was a line of light tracing the door.
And, now, there’s no Tom. Didn’t expect that. Not even on my radar
.

CHAPTER 4
    C raig and Dave stood toe-to-toe in front of the elevators and passed notes and coins back and forth, clearly making a deal of some precision. But, then, Craig would not approximate even over a jar of home-made honey.