Before Mango trained her, Charlie envisaged gene editing being done with a giant microscope and a miniature knife, slicing strands of DNA like a microsurgeon. In reality, once a client’s DNA was extracted and modified genes printed, the chopping and cutting was handled by enzymes and involved nothing more glamorous than mixing two clear solutions in a test tube.

The creation of edited gene sequences required concentration and the mastery of some temperamental machinery, but once Charlie had done it a few dozen times it felt no more exciting than flipping burgers, except she earned twenty times as much money and faced serious jail time if the FBI burst in.

‘When’s Mango getting our new machines?’ Juno asked irritably as she loaded a tray of glassware into a dishwasher and began wiping her workspace down with chlorine to avoid sample contamination.

‘She says good gear is getting harder to find,’ Charlie explained. ‘Illegal equipment manufacturers used to get around it by adapting stuff used in other fields. But now a lot of that gear must be registered too. Printers and sequencers have to be smuggled out of China or built from scratch. Plus, the people manufacturing zombie drugs and non-targeted mods have the big bucks.’

‘I thought we were getting two state-of-the-art eleventh-generation doodahs,’ Juno said. ‘This equipment is at death’s door.’

‘I complain every time I see Mango,’ Charlie said as she dropped a bone-marrow sample into a DNA-extraction unit and locked down the lid.

Juno huffed. ‘I bet Mango would shell out for newer equipment if she ever came and worked here herself.’

Charlie shared Juno’s frustration but liked Mango and was willing to defend her.

‘Mango does all the treatment plans and research on safe techniques,’ Charlie said. ‘And she’s got the twins and two older ones to look after.’

‘I’ve got a baby younger than her two,’ Juno pointed out. ‘If the power goes down again, I have to bounce no matter what. Patrick’s sitter can’t stay no later than one.’

‘I’ll finish and clean up,’ Charlie said, loathing the prospect.

‘You can’t drive after dark yet,’ Juno said. ‘Paying taxis all the time ain’t right.’

‘I take the cab out of expenses. We both make good money.’

Juno worked slower and made mistakes when she was in a mood, and lately she was always in a mood.

When Charlie first met her, Juno was a straight-A student going for a Navy scholarship. But when that fell through Juno spiralled down. Dropping out of school and hooking up with Seth, a small-time crook with a violent temper.

Charlie cared about her friend, but she hated that Juno had become the teen-mom cliché that people expect from girls who grow up in state care.

‘You didn’t put the music back on after the power went,’ Charlie noted, hoping it would help Juno focus. ‘I need noise to stay awake.’