‘No underprivileged people around us,’ I said. ‘And you forgot our swimming pool. But, other than that …’

Xena stopped and whistled.

‘A pool? Wow. We hit the motherlode with you guys. Maybe I should take Ziggy’s advice. Ransom you, not your brother there. Can’t imagine he’s keen to go home since he ran away in a yellow dress. What ya reckon your folks would pay to get you back, Ashleigh?’

‘More than you can imagine,’ I said.

‘Doubt it,’ said Xena. ‘I’ve got a helluvan imagination.’

‘So you’ve got me stereotyped,’ I said. ‘What about you? Dirty. Will kill anything that moves. Not bothered about improving the world, just taking what you can. Am I close?’

She laughed again. Xena laughed a lot, I was beginning to realise.

‘Pretty close,’ she replied. ‘Dirty, yup. Kill anything that moves, nah. You’re still here. For now. Taking what we can, sure. No one gives us anything, prin … Ashleigh. What we got, we’ve had to get ourselves.’

‘Headquarters?’ We seemed to have moved away from the topic.

‘Ah, yeah. Now, no offence, but I’m gonna assume you know nothing, okay?’

‘Assume away.’

‘Right. So there’re three sections to society. Four, if you count the poor wandering buggers who’re even worse off than us. The top band – people like you. The ones with wealth and power. In control. The kind of people who screwed over the planet in the first place and then, when it all turned to crap, kept control anyway.’

‘But …’

Xena held up her hand.

‘Second, the people who work for those of you in the top band, keeping you safe and comfortable and, most importantly, still in power. The doctors, the nurses, the scientists, the teachers, the builders. But most of all, the security. Eighty per cent of people with jobs work in the security area. Did you know that?’ She laughed again. ‘Hey, dumb me, huh? Why would you know? That’s all way beneath you.’

We turned a corner. Everyone appeared to relax a little, as if somehow the environment was safer. I couldn’t see any change from one street to another, but shoulders seemed looser. Kids took their hands from the handles of their knives. They didn’t glance around as much.

‘These’re the people,’ Xena continued, ‘who live in the gated settlements. People who live by the laws, who get food delivered to them, who’ve got solar panels for lighting, heating and air conditioning. If they’re lucky, mind. Sometimes those things don’t happen, but what are you gonna do, huh? Who do you complain to? They’re also the people who have one child and that’s it. Pop out one, you get your bits seen to. Their communities are guarded. I mean, seriously guarded.’