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carefully avoiding giving them to him, and of him not really caring because he was only interested in Jenna. She had claimed she was still not feeling great after what had happened and she would be back with the Hackers when she felt ready. In truth, she just had no idea what to tell them.
    Quitting Gun’s Kebabs had been easier. After what had happened, Mister Gun was fairly understanding when she said she did not think she could work there anymore. He had even offered her a week’s pay, but she had been magnanimous and said that she was leaving him in the lurch, so no. It had been easy to be magnanimous knowing that she was getting paid a police constable’s salary, which was not exactly riches aplenty, but it was way more than she had earned at Gun’s.
    She had been told to take a week out to get her head together. Make sure she understood what she was getting into. Make doubly sure she had got that nervous breakdown out of the way. There were a few perks to help her on the way. One was a new smartphone which ran on the police’s Airwave network, but had some sort of extra encryption system which provided closed communication with Exceptional Circumstances. The second was a laptop, also connected via Airwave to the Rabbit Hole, which had to be unlocked by her thumbprint and let her browse the texts they kept on computer, rather than the ones they kept in a locked room. She had been referred specifically to the ones on police procedures. They were boring, but she had expected that.
    After a week of the inside of her flat, however, she was going stir-crazy and knew she had to face the outside world at some point. She picked up her new phone, unlocked it with a press of her thumb, and flicked through the contacts before hitting one of them.
    ‘Kellog.’ The word was snapped out tersely, though he had to know who was calling.
    ‘It’s Nisa, which you presumably knew. I wanted some advice.’
    ‘I’m your mentor. That’s what I’m here for.’
    ‘Right. This isn’t strictly about… that stuff, but it is, kind of…’
    ‘The point, Miss Harper?’
    ‘I need to get out of my flat. Go see my friends. I figure you’re not my social advisor, but… What do I tell them?’
    His answer came immediately. ‘You have a new job. While being interviewed over the shooting… You do remember the cover story?’
    ‘Yes. Perfectly.’
    ‘Good. While you were being interviewed, one of the officers mentioned a vacant position as a statistical analyst working for the Met. You applied and have been given the job. Given the rather rebellious nature of your male friends, there would be some natural reticence in telling them about it, which explains the delay in mentioning it. You were, of course, also in shock.’
    ‘You’ve thought about this pretty thoroughly.’
    ‘Someone has to.’ And the line went dead.
    ‘Well, that’s me told,’ she said to the empty room.
    Poplar.
    ‘So, you’re working for The Man?’ Spike said, his eyes narrowing across the table at Nisa.
    ‘Uh… Well… Yeah, I guess,’ Nisa replied, grimacing. ‘That makes it sound–’
    ‘Good,’ Spike said. There was a squawk of surprise from Jenna. Nisa would have joined her, but she was too busy feeling shocked.
    ‘I was, uh, expecting a bit more… reaction,’ Nisa said finally.
    ‘Well, I always thought your talents were wasted in that crappy fast-food joint,’ Spike told her. ‘At least you’ll be using your degree. What is it they’ve got you doing, exactly?’
    ‘Something to do with analysing crime statistics. I’m not a statistician, but they seemed to think I’d be good enough.’
    ‘You are.’ He leaned forward. ‘There’s also the other aspect. You’ll be on the inside. You’ll be the perfect spy.’
    Nisa grinned at him. ‘I’d kind of like to keep this job. It pays real money.’
    ‘You just, y’know, keep your eyes open.’
    ‘Sure, Spike, I can do that.’
    ‘Because they’ll leave all their secrets lying