‘And how, exactly, do you make that work?’ I ask, but he’s already gone. I slide off the bed and stumble down the hallway. I see Bernie Kosar attacking a defrosted steak on the kitchen floor. My pizza sits steaming on the table. I haven’t dreamed about Henri in so long, I’m having a hard time shaking the vision off. While I eat my pizza, I think about the flying knives, the snow, how we were yelling at each other – when it hits me. Henri mentioned the tablet. I haven’t done anything much but look at it. What little time I’ve spent with it, I’ve been annoyed by the fact that it doesn’t seem to work. I grab my Chest off the chair and open it, taking the tablet out.

It looks as frustratingly blank as every other time I’ve looked at it. It’s nothing but a white metal square with a screen; blank, dead, useless. Nothing I do brings it to life. I turn it over and examine its few ports. They’re triangular, unlike any I’ve seen before.

‘Nine?’ I yell.

From the direction of the surveillance room, he shouts, ‘In here!’

I stuff a slice of pizza in my mouth and chew as I walk, bringing the tablet with me. Nine sits on a rolling chair with his feet up on the long table between monitors. Most of the screens are divided into quarters. Nine hits the keyboard in his lap and the screens rotate. None of them show us anything interesting.

Nine grins. ‘Anything you want me to check on first?’

‘Yeah. Enter a name, “Sarah Hart.” ’

Nine grabs his long black hair in his fists. ‘Aaargh! Seriously, dude? You have the most incredibly one-track mind. With all this crazy shit going on, that’s the first thing that comes to you?’

‘It’s the only thing that comes to me,’ I say. ‘Just do it.’

Nine types in her name, and to my disappointment, nothing comes up other than a list of school activities. I make him search for ‘Paradise, Ohio,’ ‘Sam Goode,’ ‘John Smith,’ and ‘Henri Smith.’ Everything that pops up are things I’ve seen before: the destroyed high school; the domestic terrorism charge; the reward offered for information leading to our arrest or capture. I slide the white tablet onto the desk in front of me and push it in his direction. ‘Listen, Nine. I need your help with this.’ I tell him about my vision, and about Henri talking to me about the tablet.

‘Dude, you’ve got to chill,’ Nine says. ‘I forgot how personally you take these dreams. I’m going to try something with this tablet thing.’

‘Be my guest,’ I say with a sigh.