I wondered how the majority of people lived in a world like this. If you didn’t have solar sails or panels (poorer people used recycled panels from the old days, so I’d been told) then you’d have no electricity for lighting or cooking. In old Sydney there were loads of shops, selling all sorts of things. Massive places where you could buy whatever you wanted. Now, there weren’t even food shops, let alone any other kind. In fact, the whole idea of shops seemed crazy to me. Why advertise you had anything of value? It was an invitation for thieves.

For some reason I thought about Xena. I still didn’t know what she and Aiden had talked about, that last time in Victoria Park. I didn’t think I was going to waste my time tonight asking Aiden about it.

It took about half an hour to reach the clinic. I knew we were approaching because I could see the lights before I saw the protective fencing and the guard huts. A couple of searchlights played across the landscape around the building. All hospitals have armed guards. There are drugs in there and, probably more importantly, food for the patients who can afford to be admitted. This was a private research lab. Mum’s property. And she would have it well protected.

We drew up to the gates and Mum pressed her finger against the electronic pad at the side. Whatever security system was being used, it recognised her fingerprint and the gates slid open. Dad drove through and parked close to the entrance. For a few moments, no one moved and then the car doors opened. I hugged Z close as I stepped out, lifted my face to the sky. There was going to be a storm. I could taste the electricity on my tongue. I could also taste guilt. I had talked to Mum about Aiden’s behaviour. I had asked whether he had brain damage. I’d been very clear about his strange mannerisms. And, in doing all that, I’d provided her with more evidence that she could use against him. I’d been a key prosecution witness at my own brother’s trial.

Would I ever be able to forgive myself?

I thought not.