‘I wouldn’t bet on that,’ Mango said. ‘Judging by the symptoms, LHV is a modified Ebola virus. That’s a tropical virus, so chances are it’ll be suited to hot climates like this and much harder to kill than SNor … So, how did the lab session go last night?’

Charlie didn’t like lying, but she’d decided it was too risky to tell her boss about Juno’s private job.

‘The power supply in that storage unit scares me. It blew twice. The second time the fuse panel was hot to touch. We finished up using the diesel generator in the RV, but it’s noisy and it doesn’t power everything at once.’

‘I’ll get an electrician down there before your next lab session,’ Mango said.

‘When are we getting the new equipment?’ Charlie asked. ‘You said it would be two weeks over a month ago. It’s getting to the point where something jams, or has to be repeated every time we’re in the lab.’

‘Juno’s heavy handed,’ Mango said acidly.

Charlie knew there was some truth to this, but she was fed up with her boss failing to bring in more reliable equipment. And while Charlie had saved a decent nest egg for college, Mango’s enormous new home and Juno making fifty grand from one batch of an easy-to-produce muscle mod made her feel short changed.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Charlie said, a nervous edge coming into her voice. ‘I’m taking a lot of risks for a small share of the money we make. I’m getting four to six hundred dollars for complex mods you’re charging fifteen thousand for.’

Mango leaned forward in her armchair and narrowed her eyes. She employed eighty people in the bakery, so she was used to dealing with people asking for a raise.

‘What rate were you thinking?’ Mango asked.

‘I don’t want a raise – I want a percentage,’ Charlie said. ‘I know you have a lot of expenses, but I thought fifteen per cent would be more than fair.’

Mango smiled and shook her head, like Charlie had made a joke.

‘Charlie, you earn seven hundred and fifty dollars for a three-hour shift. You’d be lucky to earn sixty in a shop or a restaurant.’

‘The restaurant doesn’t sell hamburgers for fifteen grand,’ Charlie pointed out. ‘And I wouldn’t go to prison for grilling meat.’

‘Fifteen per cent is over two thousand dollars per job. You did six jobs last night.’

‘I think you can afford it,’ Charlie said firmly.

Mango tutted. ‘Everything costs, Charlie. Three years ago, I could buy a hundred bone-marrow extraction kits for seven hundred bucks. Now they’re a registered product. Decent ones have to be smuggled in from Mexico and they want ninety dollars per pack. Same goes for proteins, enzyme packs and auto-immune drugs.