Kade reached out, immediately, with Nexus, to feel whatever he could. But this man wore a static-producing jammer as well, and the slate was the only other thing in the room transmitting, advertising a set of files for Kade to consume.

The man nodded to Kade. “I’ll be outside if you need anything, sir.”

Then the guard turned and left, locking the door behind him, leaving Kade with the slate, with Shiva’s promised thoughts and plans.

Kade blinked and stood there a moment to regain his balance. Then he went Inside and turned off the Nexus OS file sharing in his own mind, blocking the tempting files out of his senses.

They brought him lunch later. Kade ate, meditated, took stock of the situation.

Rangan was still locked up. He’d set Holtzmann in motion, but the task was complicated. He needed to be out there to guide and assist.

And the PLF. He knew their next targets. Chandler and Shepherd, at a Houston prayer breakfast with thousands of supporters. He knew about Miranda Shepherd. He could find her, if only he was out of this cage.

He tried to imagine the consequences of the Houston bombing. Hundreds dead, maybe thousands. And the impact on US politics, on opinions of Nexus, on treatment of Nexus children… It would be the final blow. Nexus scanners would go up in schools, at bus stops, in the workplace. Security checkpoints everywhere. Maybe worse – roundups of activists, of anyone who’d protested against the Chandler Act or made pro-transhumanist statements in the past. The bomb would frighten people into accepting a security state more constrictive than ever. The PLF was playing right into the hands of the conservatives, just like terrorists always did.

Kade could stop it, if he were out there. But he wasn’t. He was a prisoner, because he’d been stupid.

He surveyed the windows again. The bars and mesh swung on their own frames. Those frames were bolted into the windowsills, locked with old-fashioned mechanical padlocks.

He heaved, but it was no use. He found a fork in the kitchen, tried using one of its tines to pick a lock, but he hadn’t the faintest idea how to actually pick a lock, and after half an hour he gave up.

From the kitchen, he could see into the courtyard below. There were people out there. Shiva’s staff. And none of them wore Nexus jammers.

If he could somehow get through the Faraday cage…

The kitchen had no knives in it, but plenty of forks. He crouched below window level so he wouldn’t be seen, used the fork to stab over his head at the line where the mesh met the metal frame, over and over again, as hard as he could. He stood to inspect his work. Nothing. The mesh wasn’t scratched, wasn’t torn.

Damn.