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transference into the room wasn’t great, but enough for her to admonish her reflection in the mirror. Two weeks into the job and you’re pregnant, eh? Fleur forced a smile. It came back grimmer than she’d intended. She ran the tap, and cupping cold water into her hands, splashed some onto her face and then pulled a length of paper towelling from the dispenser. Drying herself, she checked her watch. Best get going. The IT contractors will be turning up at Reception asking for me any moment now.
    The door swung open. An inmate dressed in a blue treatment gown stepped inside, brandishing a long, flat-headed screwdriver. It was bloodstained. His eyes darted from hers to the implement and back again. He put it out of sight behind his back. His tone unconvincing, he said, ‘Don’t worry, miss, we won’t hurt you.’
    Stay calm. Fleur moved her hand discreetly and activated her personal attack alarm. Although trained to a high degree, she’d never found herself in such a perilous situation before. ‘What’s your name?’ she said.
    ‘My name is Fisher.’
    ‘Go and wait outside, Fisher. You shouldn’t be in here.’ Fleur fought to keep a rising sense of panic from her voice. ‘Where’s your escort?’
    A gleeful look spread over his face. ‘They’re dead.’
    A rush of bile caught in her throat. She choked it down. Help will be here any second.
    Fisher thrust the tip of the screwdriver to within an inch of her left eye. ‘Get your fucking clothes off.’ He drooled in expectation. ‘Go on. What the fuck you waiting for? DO IT.’
    Her hands trembling, Fleur began to undress.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 10
     
    Copse Hall. 9:07 a.m.
     
    Rubenstein sharpened a pencil over a sheet of paper on his desk, testing the point for sharpness several times before he was satisfied with it. ‘It shouldn’t take long to get everything switched back on,’ he said, tipping the shavings into the wastepaper bin beside his chair.
    ‘It might be an appropriate time to discuss some of the things I wrote on the list I gave you.’
    ‘That you are to be his primary carer? Without question.’
    ‘And his medication?’
    Rubenstein laid the pencil down on the blotter in front of him. ‘You know, Kotlas, a big part of our funding comes from drug companies. It’s an important part of our development to test new products—’
    ‘Not on Wolfe. Not unless I test them first.’
    ‘That’s admirable, Kotlas, but impractical. I need you fully functional and fit to carry out your duties.’
    ‘Have you ever tried any of the drugs we dispense as a matter of course?’
    ‘No.’ Rubenstein frowned. ‘Have you?’
    ‘In the interest of further understanding, yes, I have.’
    Rubenstein nodded. ‘We’re about proof and experimentation, but our immediate aim, Kotlas, is not to cure these patients.’ The creases on his forehead deepened. ‘You do understand that, don’t you? Our aim is to discover what factors created them. If we can isolate and trace the triggers far enough back, it’s possible we can take pre-emptive steps, in the earliest stages of development.’
    ‘You do mean mental development?’ Rubinstein’s fixed expression told him otherwise. ‘Surely not in the womb?’
    ‘Why not? That’s where it all begins.’
    ‘Termination will be next.’
    ‘In the case of Wolfe and the others we have here, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.’
    ‘I disagree.’
    Rubenstein sighed. ‘On what grounds? Traditionalism? You know how technology has come along, Kotlas? What we could only dream of doing just a few years ago, is now a reality. We have smart drugs which we can use to target individual areas of the brain. We can modify how cells behave.’
    ‘I understand all that, Rubenstein. However, in your enthusiasm, you forget something.’
    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘We’re human.’
    ‘Exactly,’ Rubenstein said, as if the thought had never left his mind. ‘And we err. Let’s agree to differ for a moment. Also on your list