‘It’s not that I wouldn’t like to help you,’ he tells me, ‘but legally, I can’t. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. It’s not ethical. And you absolutely can’t have contact with Doctor Bhango. In fact, I have to warn you that any approach to Doctor Bhango by you in connection with the BigSky study will have to be reported to the police. As I’m sure you’re aware, there have been too many instances in the last several years of scientists being threatened by members of the public.’

‘You don’t mean those anti-progressive nutjobs protesting outside the Crick Institute, do you? Because we’re not like them.’

Bernard looks at Shandy with an expression that says we are exactly like ‘them’. He clears his throat.

‘Doctor Bhango is protected by some hefty legislation, as am I. I do regret having to say this to you, because I am basically sympathetic to your situation. But you signed up for the study, you were paid, and you were informed of the risks you were taking. If you’re hoping for a therapeutic correction to your side effects, you’ll just have to stand in the queue with everyone else who has a neurological condition. And now, Ms Aaron and Ms . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?’

He stands, making ushering movements towards us.

‘It’s Doctor Lady Reverend to you, Mac,’ Shandy says, eyes flashing, and Rodney skewers the virtual Escher etching hanging above the virtual fishtank, so that Bernard visibly cringes and recoils. ‘Well, we had to try, right, Chaz? We’ll just show ourselves out, mate. Get back to your surfing practice. Oh, and if you need any design work, here’s my card—’

She makes a flicking gesture and shoots him her virtual contact details, then exits the apartment in a swirl of purple and gold AR.

‘What a tosser,’ she says in the stairwell. ‘He’s going to need sorting.’

‘What do you mean?’

She laughs. ‘I have to get back to work. What are you doing?’

‘According to my schedule I . . . ooh, looks like I have a new client. What do you mean, sorting?’

‘We’ll talk later. Let me think on it, babe.’ As she puts me on the Big Green Bus back to the flat, Shandy kisses me on the cheek, and Rodney winks at me, and then we part ways.

* * *

I’m home with a couple of hours to spare before my next client – one of the new bunch acquired since I became ‘famous’. Partly out of fear and partly because I have so much on my mind right now, I’ve been very picky about who I’ll take. This person lives in Highgate, so it’s an easy bike ride from O’s flat. Also, she offered to double my usual fee if I wouldn’t tell anyone anything about her because she’s famous herself, like for-real famous.