I can barely look at myself.

Because of my stupidity, André is dead. Because of my weakness, Kass got hurt. And because of me, someone was blown to bits because I told Sammi to do it.

I couldn't save them. I didn't even try. I'm pathetic. A Futurist, right to the core.

The more I think about it, and believe me, that's all I'm doing – none of it makes sense. The visinium capsule is a person. Maybe, possibly, this Major Briggs, whoever he is. Was. But how? Whether it's him or not, how had they turned into. . . whatever the hell that was? Are the other capsules people too? And if Ra provided the visinium. . . What's their part in all this?

Questions tumble around my mind, and now, no matter how hard I shake, the feelings aren't going away.

Instead, nausea swirls in my stomach, threatening to bubble up at any moment.

And there's something else, another question gnawing away at me. We're supposed to be the Elementalists, the four Elementalists. Two physical, two ethereal.

But we aren't, are we?

We're two physical, and one ethereal. . . so where is the last Elementalist? And why do I get the feeling they don't want us to know? Dr Keller brought it up, once. And Eldred changed the subject.

Why?

As days pass, I try to focus on fixing Henry. Something tangible, something I can fix. Too much time in the toxic water fried his motor, and without him buzzing around me, the silence is overwhelming.

Unbearable.

Meanwhile, Cotton and her lead tactician, Văn, hide away, plotting. Their secrecy seeps through every part of HQ, clandestine meetings quick becoming the norm, not just with the senior staff. Soldiers, medics, engineers – everyone seems to be hiding something. Or am I just being paranoid? All I notice these days are hushed whispers in empty corridors, meaningful glances following Sammi and I wherever we go, and worst of all, the cheerful claps-on-the-back from Labelle whenever our paths cross.

Like, come on. I'm a Futurist. I can tell a fake smile from a real smile any day of the week.

His eyes are windows to his shattered heart. The pain behind the glass makes me want to curl into a ball and howl. The pretence just makes it worse. A thousand times worse.

Is this how people see me? These people, real people, who walk around with emotions hanging from their sleeves. People like Kass, so giving with their feelings, hurling them around like hand grenades. Is this how he sees me?

A fake?

I shake my head with a small derisive snort; all eyes turn towards me and I flush.

Damn. I forgot I'm in a meeting.

We've finally been invited to one, and by the looks of it, it's big. All the important Resisters are here: Cotton, Văn, Eldred, Labelle, Brie and Dr Keller. Sammi sits next to me with Musa behind her, his arms stretching down so his hands intertwine with hers in her lap. His protectiveness is almost threatening, as he glowers at anyone who dares catch his eye.

Kass to her other side is. . . different. The ache in my chest that's plagued me since I removed my filters intensifies. The bandages around his mouth and chin have been removed, the newly exposed skin dark pink and sore, scarred by the blisters. But from the nose up, he's still bandaged; his sharp eyes pierce the room through gaps in the fabric, looking everywhere. . . but at me.

'We should have had more backup!' Sammi bangs her fist down on Cotton's repaired holographic table. The world map, with its complex web of hotspots, jolts in and out of focus, making my head hurt.

Cotton rolls her eyes. 'We've been through this. We don't have lives to just throw away, you know. You had as much as necessary, but now you've been exposed, obviously you will have a bigger team.'

'Oh, well that's a relief,' Sammi snorts. 'I'm sure that's a big comfort for Labelle.'

Labelle flinches, but quickly covers it up with a smile. Long gone are his perfectly coiffed locks; now, his hair hangs lank into his eyes, greasy and unkempt. He opens his mouth, but a cautionary hand on his shoulder from Dr Keller sees him close it again.

Cotton sighs. 'André understood the task ahead of him. He didn't go into the mission blind to the dangers.'

'Like we did.'

'Oh, please,' Brie scoffs, kicking her filthy boots up on the table and lounging back as if she owns the place. 'Your role is so easy any idiot could do it. Go in, use powers, kaboom, bye bye capsule. Leave the real work, you know, all the complex strategies and stuff, to the grown-ups, 'kay?'

'If any idiot can do it, why don't you?' The words tumble from my mouth before I can stop them; a muffled snigger from Kass makes them worth it. Almost.

Brie narrows her eyes at me. 'Careful now. If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were being rude.' She smirks. 'Good thing I do know you better, eh?'

My cheeks burns.

Her eyes lock with mine and I want to object, but. . . my mind is totally blank. Instead, I shake my head. Nothing happens. Damn these filters. Has Kass broken them or something?

I turn away, and her smile widens. Rai, nil. Brie, one.

'Our next target is Zlansk, Slavskanistan.' Văn changes the subject, glancing disapprovingly at Brie's boots as he lifts up a visual of all the hotspots in Slavskanistan from the table. 'It usually triggers hurricanes, so we'll need to prepare for those accordingly. In addition, sources have informed me that the base has upped security to maximum protection around the capsule.' He frowns, scratching his chin with the wrong end of his stylus. 'But information regarding the capsule specifically is limited. The Futurists seem to know little more than we do, which is odd. Understandable with the alpha-cap, as it was underwater, but the beta-cap is in the ground of the Zlansk base. Jinaka must be hiding the truth about the capsules from his army.'

'In what terms do you mean?' Keller interrupts, folding his arms behind his head. 'You think they don't know the capsule are people?'

Văn purses his lips. 'André certainly didn't know. Unless, of course, his loyalty had changed.'

'André would never –,' Labelle snaps, his composure wobbling. He stops, takes a deep breath, then carries on with his eyes closed. 'If he knew anything, he'd have told us. He was loyal to RESIST. Always.'

'We know that, Fabien, it's alright,' Cotton says, and Labelle shoots her a grateful look. 'It's Văn's job to be suspicious – we need to cover all bases.'

'Indeed,' Văn continues. 'I propose we dispatch squad three to accompany the Elementalists to Zlansk, alongside Brie's rescue mission. If we time them to coincide perfectly, then one can act as a distraction from the other.'

'What's Brie's rescue mission?' Sammi pipes up, earning a dirty look from Cotton.

'One that doesn't concern you.'

I hesitate, remembering Keller and Eldred's conversation from weeks ago. There's still one missing. Three out of four 'aint bad, you know.

'Is it to rescue the last Elementalist?'

Cotton, Văn and Brie turn to me, looking shocked, annoyed and amused, respectively.

'Why would you think that?' Cotton demands.

I shrug. 'Educated guess.'

She gives a huff of frustration, glancing at Brie before shaking her head. 'It's none of your business. We need the three of you focussed entirely on the Zlansk mission. You'll need to attend training with squadron three; their commanding officer is Captain Paolera, one of Labelle's finest officers. They begin at 0600 in the training yard, so you best make sure you get an early night. I expect you there tomorrow.' Cotton gets to her feet, dusts off her trousers and turns her back on us. 'Dismissed.'

I rise, not quite believing that she's finished with us already. But yes – everybody is gathering papers and muttering to each other in low voices. Dr Keller and Labelle in particular are huddled together, heads down, their conversation intense. The only person who hasn't moved is Brie. She remains where she is, boots on the table. When she catches my eye, she winks.

I bolt from the room as fast as I can.

*

I make sure I get to the yard before Kass and Sammi, taking the opportunity to test out Henry's new motor. It's not really a yard, just a cave within the underground headquarters. I say 'just'; it's large enough to fit an entire squadron. A few laps are enough to prove that my repair job is impeccable as ever; Guild-Master Song would have accepted nothing less. Henry certainly seems happy with it, practically purring as he shows off his new sparkling emerald lights. Having him back by my side makes me feel that little bit safer.

But as six am draws closer, soldiers of squadron three start to trickle into the yard, and eventually, so do Kass and Sammi. I keep my head down, hiding amongst the soldiers, trying to be inconspicuous. I don't want them to notice me.

I've never been very good at being inconspicuous. The hum of chatter amongst the soldiers dies the moment their Captain, Paolera, enters the yard; they part seamlessly as she strides through their midst, coming to an abrupt halt in front of me.

'You.' Her nose wrinkles in distaste as she stares down at me. 'What business does a Futurist have in my yard?'

I hesitate. Her bark sounds more like a statement, than a question. 'I'm an Elementalist.'

'Not a Futurist?'

'Uh,' I frown. 'I guess I'm both. That a problem?'

Paolera scowls. 'Let's hope not.' She eyes me for a few moments longer, then sighs, cuffing me over the head. 'Relax, kid. It's not my job to judge you. Just train you.' She pauses. 'Although if you betray us, I will kill you.'

'He won't.'

I turn around; Sammi has appeared by my side.

'Yeah.' And there's Kass on my other side, eyes narrowed into slits at Paolera. 'He's one of us.'

Paolera grunts but seems placated, for the moment at least. I swallow, wanting to escape, wishing that everyone would stop staring at me, especially Kass. And Sammi. But then Paolera blows her whistle and the morning's session begins; I take the opportunity to jog behind an enormous soldier called Dimitrov, his bulk blocking me from view. As we alternate between jogging and stretches, I think we've got off lightly. Surely this can't be so different to my training with Lares Youth.

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Oh, but it is.

My years of racing count for little. The pace of Paolera's training is relentless and unforgiving. We leave each session sweating and staggering, clutching our stomachs as each meal threatens to resurface. Kass finds it especially difficult. I nearly trip over him countless times, as he lies coughing and wheezing spread-eagled on the ground. But Paolera has no patience for excuses. Withstanding hurricane conditions, she tells us, requires the strength of iron and a will of steel, and only the most gruelling of regimes can prepare us.

And yet, the soldiers love her. They obey every command not just out of duty, but with respect bordering on reverence, and no matter how exhausted they are, not one of them ever collapses or even falters. They push themselves until the bitter end, day after day, and to them, it's worth it when she claps on the back, or throws them a smile, or a wink. Her favour meaning everything.

Not, though, to Kass. Despite my efforts to avoid him, he seeks me out one lunchtime, out of breath from our latest run. His bandages finally, and noticeably, off; my insides cringe as he drops his tray down next to me with a clatter.

'What a joke,' he grumbles, thumping down beside me and taking a huge bite of sandwich. He winces, rubbing his jaw. 'Training my ass. More like torture.'

'Hmm,' I mumble into my lap.

'And anyway.' Kass holds out his water to me. 'It's a waste of time for you. You'll just be flying around on Henry, right?'

I shrug, accepting the water and taking an awkward slug. Kass is still watching me. Heat begins to rise in the back of my neck, and self-conscious, I rub a hand over it, cursing inwardly.

'Am I that hideous now?'

I start, glancing up at him for the first time. He's smiling, but obviously isn't happy; his face is too honest, too open. His scarred, burnt-up face. Along his cheekbone tracks a long, jagged scar, where he was scalded down to the bone, and although the surrounding skin has almost completely healed, it's still shiny and pink. But – and the ache inside eases slightly – his familiar freckles, that make him Kass, still speckle his face. Like fallen autumn leaves.

'W-why would you say that?'

'You won't even look at me,' Kass says, frowning down at his fingers as he twists them together. 'Good thing I'm not vain, or you'd be wrecking my self-esteem.'

'You're not hideous!'

Kass blinks; I've accidentally shouted in his face. 'Wow, okay. So, what's the problem?'

'Sorry.' Oh god. My face must be puce. Kill me now. 'I just. . . I don't know how to. . . I'm just. . .'

'Yeah?'

'Sorry.'

Kass curls his feet up onto his chair, looking caught between amusement and confusion. 'What the hell are you sorry for?'

'For screwing up the mission. For letting you get hurt.'

'What?' Kass tugs my sleeve but I wrench it free as the guilt washes over me, impossible to choke down. 'What are you talking about?'

'It's my fault you got hurt. If I hadn't given you my filters –,'

'Rai, what the hell? Listen to me –,'

'No –,'

'Listen!' Suddenly, Kass grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me towards him, so close, I can feel the rasp of him breathing on my cheek and hear the shuddering wheezes from his chest.

'Listen,' he repeats, softer this time. 'That wasn't your fault. It was mine, I should have given them back. But hell, I totally get now why you act the way you do. Dude, how can you wear those things?'

I swallow. 'What do you mean?'

'They're dangerous! Sure, it's great not feeling things for a bit, but they made me forget everything. Reality, my limitations – even my family. My mum, dad, Kitty. . . My motivations for being here.' He sighs, rumpling his hair. 'I don't want to forget them. If feeling crap means I remember them, then I want to feel crap. I need this pain. Does that make sense?'

I nod, squeezing my eyes shut against the swell of emotion rising inside. All of my instincts scream at me to shake them away. . . But in front of Kass, it feels wrong. Maybe he's right. Maybe I deserve this pain.

'You should take them off,' Kass says, and I feel his fingers creeping around the back of my neck to where my filters are stuck. He hesitates, conker-brown eyes fixed on mine. 'Can I?'

I flinch, wriggling my chair away from him, and his hand falls to his lap. He stares at it, clearly disappointed.

'RIGHT, lunch's over, you slackers. Assume your positions, move, move, move,' Paolera bellowed.

I jump and Kass laughs; just like that, the tension between us breaks.

'Shall we?' I raise my eyebrows questioningly at Kass, and to my relief, he nods, pushing himself to his feet.

'Let's get this over with.' We dump our trays then make our way to where the squad has formed a huddle around Paolera. 'But just so you know –,' Kass adds, shooting me a sideways glance. 'I'm not going to stop bugging you about those things. You know that, right?'

'Why?' I mumble, as we crouch down at the back of the huddle; I can spot Sammi shoving her way towards us. 'Why do you care?'

'Because whoever's made you too scared to feel stuff – they need to pay for what they've done.'

Kass looks positively impassive as he watches Paolera, who's already shouting orders again. But when he turns to me, there's fury in his eyes.

'You get that, Rai? We need to make them pay.'

*

Settling into a routine with Squadron Three is surprisingly easy; they're a cheerful bunch, maybe ranging from mid-twenties to early-thirties, who take their role of mentoring us very seriously. They particularly love Henry, all desperate to fly him with me – none of them have ever seen a racer before, only fighters and carriers. I try to make sure everyone gets a turn, but my favourite soldier to fly with is definitely Private Eva Hughes. She screams the loudest, and is the only one brave enough to let me flip upside-down. She loves the thrill, she says.

But finding time for flying grows more difficult as the month goes on. Our training regime leaves us little free time, waking us up at five for cardio, then breakfast at six, strategy with Văn from six-fifteen until nine, then more training with Paolera until lunch. Then we spend the afternoon with Dr Keller, practising our powers. I initially doubted whether there was anything Keller could teach me, I soon find myself savouring these afternoons with Kass and Sammi, where I can surround myself in my powers and completely let go. Where I get to be me.

Keller has a lot of theories. He thinks that perhaps our powers can cross over, especially between two physical, or two ethereal, Elementalists. That I might be able to manipulate not just water, but any liquid, and even cause solids like ice to melt into liquid.

'In the same way, Kass should be able to do the opposite,' Keller muses. 'Solidifying a liquid into its solid form, like water into ice. And Sammi, you should be able to do it too between ethereal states of matter. With practise, you might be able to convert a plasma back into a gaseous form.'

'A plasma?' Sammi wrinkles her nose. 'Like what?'

'Well, plasma is just ionised gas, but it's not naturally found much on Tellus,' Keller explains. 'There's lots, I believe, on planets like Ra and Lares. But the plasma we do have is extraordinary. Lightening, auroras. Certain flames, the stars. Beautiful, but dangerous.'

'So the missing Elementalist. . . Is that what they control? Plasma?' I ask.

Keller hesitates, then nods. Kass blows out his cheeks and whistles, and I raise my eyebrows.

'Woah.'

Keller seems agitated, hastily changing the subject. 'Another theory I have is that you could combine your powers, somehow. I call it: the theory of elemental symbiosis.'

Melting ice into water proves incredibly difficult. I need a source of heat, but Keller refuses to let me use my body's.

'Your body isn't a toolkit,' he scolds, wagging his finger in my face. 'You aren't free to add and remove bits as you please. For pity's sake, you need your body-heat to live! Stupid boy.' Instead, he gives me a flame-switch, a device that can produce flames of any size and strength. But, perhaps he isn't teaching me right, or it just isn't possible – I can't seem to do it.

Elemental symbiosis, however, is easy.

'Go away,' Kass says crossly, when I nag him to practise. 'I can barely use my own powers, let alone worry about yours.' He's bent over a block of concrete, his face scrunched in concentration. A sheen of sweat speckles his forehead, the muscles in his arms trembling as he grips the slab. A reluctant crack appears under his fingertips.

I laugh. 'Suit yourself. Watch us!'

Kass wipes his forehead on his sleeve as I bound over to Sammi, who gives me one of those condescending smiles you might give an over-excited puppy. She holds out her hand and with a grin, I take it.

'Ready?'

My grin widens. 'Let's go!'

Sammi twirls her free hand through the air above our heads, gently teasing the particles apart, twisting them around her fingers until an opalescent wisp appears. She moulds it, sculpting it until it's almost as large as my head.

'Is that a cloud?' Kass asks, as he and Keller tip their heads back to watch.

I bounce on the balls of my feet. 'Yep. And what comes from clouds?'

'Uh –'

'Rain!'

Before Kass can even blink, I plunge a hand into the cloud and squirt water right into his face.

'Aargh!'

Keller and Sammi burst out laughing as Kass hops from foot to foot, trying to shield himself with his arms from the onslaught of water.

'Sucker!'

'– Rai? –!'

I remove my hand and wipe tears from my cheeks. Kass furiously scrubs his face with his t-shirt.

'YOU –,'

'Shh!' At my nod, Sammi flings her cloud above Kass' head and I run behind him, ignoring his protests as I reach up over his shoulder towards the cloud. And whisper into his ear. 'Watch.'

Sammi twists her hands and I rise onto my tiptoes, one arm wrapped around Kass, the other still outstretched towards the cloud.

Come on. Come to me. . .

And one by one, drops of rain begin to fall, round and plump, plopping down onto our faces, and soon our hair is soaked through. Kass tips his scarred face back and closes his eyes, finally breaking into a smile. I smile too, just watching him, how the water sparkles on his eyelashes. Sammi lets out a sigh and puts her arms around us, and the three of us stand in the rain, ignoring Keller as he scurries around with mops and buckets.

Together, we simply gaze up.

*

I wish all our time could be as happy as in Keller's lab. But, the inevitable second mission lurks in the back of our minds. The elephant in the corner none of us wants to confront. Everyone skirts around the subject, talking about 'hurricane conditions' as though they're the worst we'll have to face. Văn's strategy sessions focus on complex military tactics which I can only vaguely follow – but no one seems willing to sit down and have a conversation with us about what we'll do after we've weathered the hurricanes and got passed the guards.

When we'll have to face the second capsule.

Kass is in deep denial, insisting we can't simply murder another person. I'm here to stop what happened to my family happening again, he growls, whenever I mention it. I won't blow people up. We'll find another way. Sammi refuses to discuss it altogether – maybe because she did it the first time and Kass makes her feel uncomfortable. Paolera claims it's not her area of expertise to discuss, and Keller just goes into the science of it all, wandering off-topic.

But at least this time we have some sort of plan. Văn claims it's simple, but it seems pretty damn complicated to me. The beta-capsule in Zlansk is hidden inside FUTURE's largest base outside Singavere underneath a state-of-the-art research facility. According to Cotton, Jinaka himself might be there. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

We'll launch a multipronged attack on the base. Squadron Two attacking the front gate, where Văn is certain security will be greatest. At the same time, Squadron Four will flank in an air-assault, targeting the monolithic-domed roofs of the buildings with fighter drones. However, both of these attacks will be distractions. From us, obviously.

We're going to wormhole our way into the base.

Paolera and her squad are all trained under Labelle to use temporary wormholes; they'll split into teams that will wormhole into separate locations inside the base. Hopefully, between all these distractions, we will be able to wormhole in and gradually sneak our way to the capsule.

Brie's elite squad will also use this opportunity to break into the research facility, where Eldred suspects the missing Elementalist is being held. No one will tell us more than that, though – every time the mission is brought up, someone cocks their head towards us and everyone falls silent. The fact that they don't want us knowing anything about the missing Elementalist makes us want to know all the more.

After all. He, or she, is one of us.

At last, after a month of training, Cotton is satisfied that we're ready. Kass has been signed off by Dr Keller; Paolera has declared Squadron Three 'fit to battle'; the fighter drones are charged and ready to fly; and everybody's temporary wormholes serviced and programmed with their specific coordinates. Keller and Labelle have come up with a simple idea to help me use my powers in an emergency; I now carry a set of lightweight canisters strapped to my back, all full of water. Keller doesn't trust me to not use my body as a source – this is his little way of reassuring himself. I'm not complaining. It's a good idea. One I'm surprised Titus never thought of.

Musa isn't coming with us; Private Tanner, one of our designated wormhole engineers, told Kass and I that he's been enlisted into Squadron Five. Apparently, he even had his induction whilst we were on our first mission, but Tanner refuses to tell us what Squad Five actually do. It's 'strictly classified.'

We decide against telling Sammi. If Musa wanted her to know, he'd tell her himself.

Still, it's with suspicious eyes that I watch him as we leave for Zlansk. He holds Sammi for a long time in the midst of the dying forest. He whispers in her ear and she nods, wiping her eyes. There's a strange finality in the way they cling to each other, stroke each other, like they're scared it's for the last time. It hurts to watch; I glance to Kass instead, trying to shake away the unbearable loneliness rising inside me. I wonder if Kass feels the same; he's watching them too. But if anything, he looks angry – Eldred has a hand on his shoulder, though if it's for comfort or restraint, I can't tell.

With another swift jerk of my neck, my filters kick in. The feelings vanish. I swing myself up onto Henry's back and fly up and over the blackened branches with a laugh: with Henry, I'm never alone. Then, Captain Paolera leads us away through the trees towards the Wormhole that will take us towards Zlansk.

Towards the second visinium capsule.

We will find out soon enough whether this capsule is a person, just like the last. Although, deep down, I think I already know the answer.

And though it makes me sick to my stomach, I'm afraid that either way, we'll have no choice.

We'll have to destroy it.