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learned to read as early as him, but she had weird powers that meant she could move objects with her mind. Boy sometimes dreamed he could do the same. He loved Huck Finn even more. After five years, his copy was starting to fall apart, because he rarely went more than a couple days without picking it up. Huck Finn managed something Boy couldn’t even quite bring himself to dream about. Huck escaped .
    “Your headache real, Boy?” Pop muttered from the doorway as Boy carried on feigning sleep. “You wouldn’t just be dreaming up ways to avoid me, would ya?”
    Boy lay perfectly still, his breaths long and even, his body totally relaxed. He was floating in space, gazing back at the Earth from the outer reaches of the Milky Way. No one could reach him. Pop grunted and backed out, leaving the door half open.
    Boy’s headache was real enough. It even hurt to read, not that he would let that stop him. It was the third headache that week. The pain made him irritable. He was beginning to worry he might say something to Pop, or look at him in a way he didn’t like, because the headache meant he couldn’t concentrate properly.
    He opened his eyes in the darkness. From his parents’ bedroom, he heard Pop snoring. He was about to reach out for his flashlight when he heard a noise from his window. He sat up, startled. The curtain moved and a shape was briefly outlined against the moonlit window, before it dropped to the floor and padded toward him.
    “Miss Honey!” he whispered, as the cat jumped lightly onto his bed and purred, waiting for some attention. He didn’t know the cat’s real name. It often snuck in nights and Boy was glad of the company. He guessed it belonged to someone in the row of newer houses near the highway. He stroked her under the chin and her purrs became deeper as she pressed against him. He smiled in the darkness.
    The headache, which had been like a background noise all evening, suddenly made its presence felt again and Boy hissed as a white-hot stab of pain lit up the space behind his eyes. For a few seconds, he couldn’t see, and it took all his self-control not to call out in panic. Eventually the constant pain turned into a rhythmic throb, then it ebbed away, leaving him gasping in relief.  
    He took some deep breaths, his sweat cold against his hot skin. Something was wrong. He looked over at the window, the curtain moving slightly in the wind. Then he looked down at his hands. The purring had stopped.
    “Miss Honey?”
    The cat stared up at him, her green eyes wide open, sightless, almost popping out of their sockets amongst the ginger fur. Slowly, he opened his hands, loosening the terrible grip he’d had around her neck. Her eyes stayed open as she fell back against the cover, her neck twisted at an impossible angle. The small corpse was already stiffening as he felt the tears come. It took forty-three minutes for all of the warmth to leave her body.

     

Chapter 5

    Mexico City
    Present Day

    Seb appeared in his apartment in Mexico City a few hours before dawn. He sat at the breakfast counter and put out his hand. As the tv flickered into life, a glass full of orange juice and a bagel covered in peanut butter appeared in front of him—or seemed to. They were actually made up of particles borrowed from the kitchen counter plus bits of dirt and dead skin floating in the air, changed to duplicate the particles found in glass, china, freshly squeezed oranges, bagel and peanut butter. At first, Seb had needed soil to produce physical items, but as Seb2 learned more about the alien operating system now coded into every part of his body, he had been able to expand his use of Manna in new ways.
    “Loose end from Dover still needs our attention,” said Seb2. Seb drained the juice and nodded. He had taken care of the gang at the bank, but the syndicate behind the attempted crime would just find some other hired muscle to do their dirty work. And innocent people would continue to die as a result