To the right of the bookshelf a sliding door concealed a washbasin and a small shelf for toiletries. Everything was painted in soothing Time Police beige. As opposed to the stimulating Time Police beige in the corridors, she assumed.

She was well placed, too – not too far from the bathrooms, but not close enough to be disturbed by those who had had a lively evening and tended to confuse their doors in the middle of the night.

She had been commanded to rest in her room. Defiance still burned brightly.

‘I’m going out,’ she told herself.

Wimpy Jane wasn’t happy. ‘You were instructed to rest in your room.’

‘Yes, but not by anyone important.’

She changed and slung her bag over her shoulder and slammed the door behind her. Sadly, there was no one around to witness this impressive display of self-assertion.

She set off to visit the National Gallery. The virtual gallery was featuring a Botticelli display and she spent a soothing afternoon walking around the life-sized, 3D representations of The Adoration of the Kings and The Birth of Venus, actually becoming part of the paintings, seeing them from unfamiliar angles and taking the time to admire tiny, previously unseen details. She finished her afternoon with coffee and cake in their café, deliberately taking her time. Because sometimes a rebellion begins with quite small steps.

It was dark when she got back. Wondering if anyone had missed her, she tapped on their doors on her way to dinner. There was no response from either of them. She peeked into Luke’s room. By the looks of things, either he hadn’t been in for some time, or a small tornado had popped by, played by itself for half an hour and then pushed off again.

She ate alone again that evening. So much for the newly fledged Team Weird. That hadn’t lasted long, had it?

Fortunately – or otherwise – Smith’s arrival coincided with a rare quiet spell. Temporally speaking, the world was being exceptionally well behaved. It did happen occasionally, they said. Hardly anyone was being assigned and those teams that did go out were the most senior because rank hath its privileges. Boredom set in. Their days offered only long sessions in the gym, weapons training and simulations. Jane conscientiously put in the time, alternating with study periods in the library. Keeping busy was good. Looking as if she had a purpose was even better. Apparently not caring what the other members of her team were up to was best of all. Oblivious to North’s watching eyes, she pounded away in the gym, ran endless circuits, caught up on her reading and told herself she didn’t need anything from anyone.

Emerging, sweaty and wobbly-legged from a particularly vigorous session, she encountered Smith in the corridor.

‘Ah, Jane, dear, there you are. I have something for you.’