Dick yawns, stretches his arms above his head, and shakes his head. “All it takes is imagining that I’m Austin Powers. Sheer animal magnetism. Hey, baby!” He looks smug. “They were looking for action: I just upped my visibility.”

From brown dwarf to supernova by the look of it, Alex thinks. “Did you take them home?” he asks.

“Do I look stupid? I took them to Claridge’s! On Mr. Petrov’s dime.” He grunts. “Bodyguards turning up on my doorstep the next morning: do not want.”

Janice shakes her head. “It’s the fucking end times,” she husks. “Dick scoring.”

“Anything else?” Mhari adds sharply.

“Yeah.” John looks pensive. “I went back to check an hour later. They tried to keep it discreet, but there was a bit of a heated argument and the bouncers, the bodyguards, and Mr. Petrov all went home in ambulances. I don’t know exactly what Dick told them to do to each other when they got in his face, but this mind control mojo needs a light touch.”

“I got the blood samples by telling the duty hematologist to draw the samples from her own left arm and give them to me,” Janice adds. “If I’d told her to cut her wrist, I’m not sure she wouldn’t have done it.”

Mhari adds another green Post-it to the board, against BRAINWASHING. She turns back to the table. “Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“Stand on your head, please. In the corner. Right now.”

Dick sits where he is and stares at her quizzically. “Make me.”

“Go and—” Mhari’s eyes narrow. Then she glances at John.

“We seem to be immune. I told Dick not to do it but he wasn’t listening . . .”

“You were right, though: they were too bony. And they didn’t like each other at all. I could tell.”

“Animal!”

“Dyke.”

“That’s enough, children!” Mhari raises her voice and Dick and Janice succumb to an aggrieved, resentful silence. But Mhari is watching Oscar: his displeasure is muted for now, but evident. Now he stands and clears his throat.

“Policy directive. We seem to have considerable scope for, ah, making friends and influencing people, people. And also for doing them damage. I don’t think that’s a good idea because, leaving all questions of morality aside, it’s likely to draw attention to us. And as for questions of morality—” Janice stares daggers at Dick. “What you did is borderline indistinguishable from date rape. So—”

“Hey, they were on the pull!” Dick protests.

“Nevertheless, I’ll thank you to not do that. Obviously there are exceptions—if someone tries to mug you on your way to work, for example, or starts asking questions about what the Scrum is doing this week—but you will avoid using this particular talent for trivial ends, or in public. Am I understood?” Everybody nods. Even Dick, although his expression is mutinous. “Are there any questions?”

Janice’s hand goes up. “Blood,” she says simply.

“We’ll get to it when we loop back to planning, after the retrospective. Are you okay with that?” He stares at her.