Boom – ka powwow, boom BOOM – bada dumdumdumdum. . .

The beat is a pulse, synthetic, electric, reverberating through my skull – boom BOOM – bada dumdumdumdum –

Closing my eyes, I sway to the rhythm.

Oh. . . ah, ah, ah . . . lovin' life, i-i-i-it's-just-so-bright –

My hands cover my ears, pushing my headphones in deeper, until the music swallows me whole.

Yeah, w-w-we got tomorrow –

The beat rises to a climax – I lift my head, feel the whole room jump together –

AND –

'Hey?'

There's a touch, light on my arm. I open my eyes, squinting through the darkness and haze of flashing lights. There's someone in front of me, face shining with sweat and a smoking shot-glass in one hand.

'Quail?'

It is Quail. His headphones hanging out of his ears like weird little insects, flashing bright yellow. Like stars. I laugh, reaching out to brush them aside, accidentally getting them tangled in his hair. His sweat lingers on the back of my hand; I don't care. It feels kinda nice. Then my body's distracted by the pull of the music – all I want to do is dance right now – but Quail's lips are moving. Reluctantly, I slide my own headphones out my ears.

'So, what d'ya say?' Quail's looking nervous; he's grinning at me a little too hard, and when my fingers nudge his hand, it's so sweaty. Too much to be from the heat. I smile; at him, and to myself. He's nervous because of me.

'To what?' I yell, then I laugh again, sheepish; a problem with earphones is that when you take them off, everything sounds too quiet. I know I'm overcompensating. But Quail doesn't seem to mind; he tucks my hand in his, and leads me away through the dance floor.

'Wait for me,' I mutter to Dove as I pass her, and she winks.

'Will do!' She lands a kiss on my lips, and I push her away, laughing, laughing too much, I don't even know why.

'Come on,' Quail whispers, and I flick Dove on the nose as I leave her behind.

'Promise you won't leave without me.'

'I won't!' she shouts, her back to me, not listening, or caring; she's dancing, her head lolling from side to side, drifting further into the crowd.

Needless to say, by the time I get back, she's gone.

*

'Stupid, stupid. I knew I shouldn't have listened to her.' I shove my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans, shivering in the midnight breeze.

There's no one to hear me, no one to reply. I scuff my trainers along the pavement, cursing Dove into oblivion.

By the time I got back, the party was almost over; only the dregs remained, and let's be honest, who wants to be around at the end of a party, am I right? Calico was frantically trying to tidy up before her Guardian got home, whilst Froz swapped between vomiting into paper cups, and tossing them into the incinerator. Except, he kept missing. Cali was screaming at him, and the noise – jeez – it went straight through my head. There was no sign of Dove or any of the others; they must have Wormholed home together.

Still. The night is crisp and cold; just what I need to sober up. The smell of smoke lingers in my hair; I muss it up, taking a few deep breaths, trying my best not to throw up. The pads on the back of my neck are starting to itch; I shake my head hard, determined not to scratch them – it'd suck if they get infected – and break into a jog. Anything to clear my head.

Sometimes a party can help you forget. And sometimes it's best to forget the party. You know? Flashes of the night are starting to come back; I shudder, rubbing my hands over the goose-bumps on my arms. To be honest, I'm relieved it's over. I hate all that popular dance, trance music anyway. Now I'm alone, I can scroll through my reti-chip of songs I love, weird, vintage music from a hundred years ago, when songs had a tune and lyrics had meaning, and a beat was a drum, not a synth.

I find the perfect one – and a song I love fills my head, then my heart.

Don't pretend you haven't seen me,

I'll always be there.

From the moment I saw you,

I knew I'd adore you

Forever, building a world for you in my

Head that's always a

Safe and sweet place and

Whether you be afraid or brave I don't

Mind, I'll always be

There. . .

And before I know it, I'm crying, but I don't know why.

I want to call for help, but there's no one to call.

So, I wipe my eyes on my arm and lie in the moonlight, flat on my back, waiting for the feeling to pass.

The sky is so big, so blue, so black, so. . . Beyond. Beyond everything. Beyond me. The planets bright – Luna in orange. Ra in red. Vesta in yellow. . .

And I wonder if the feeling ever will.

*

There's a crick in my neck that hurts like a bitch. What the hell?

I roll over, expecting fresh, soft linen and the smell of lemon and pine. Instead, there's something hard and cold. That definitely doesn't smell of lemon. Opening my eyes, I realise with a pang: ohmigod. Have I seriously just spent the night sleeping on the street? Titus is going to kill me.

I sit up, running a hand through my hair; oh god, my headphones had fallen out my ears. Ramming them back in, I hear the gut-wrenching trilling noise:you have six new messages.

I groan. 'Play.'

'Message one: Rai-raiiiii, I'm bored! Hurry up and finish already, what's taking so long? Oh, hang on, there's a message from Titus. I'll call you back. . .'

'Message two: Rai, pick up. Get here NOW, we need to leave.'

'Message three: Rai, where the HELL are you? I waited for ages, you stupid – Titus is freaking out that you're not here. Leave Quail and get the hell back here now.'

'Message four: RAI. You are in SERIOUS trouble – just a heads up.'

'Stop messages,' I mumble. I can't listen to any more. My stomach churns, and I retch everything from last night over the pavement in a multicoloured splat.

Titus is going to kill me. God. Dammit. I shake my head, and feel better at once; forcing myself upright, I croak into the ether –

'Reti-chip? Get Henry.'

'Summoning Henry from Home-Station,' my reti-chip chirps through my headphones, and I curl my knees to my chest to try and stop shaking. People are passing me on the streets; some roll their eyes, tutting disapprovingly, whilst others pointedly look the other way. I focus on the cracks in the pavement. I must look such a mess. I hope they don't recognise me – Titus will be so ashamed.

It's a good twenty minutes before the reassuring rush of wind; at last! Henry's coming, soaring through the air towards me, his speckled lights dancing with the sun's reflection. But then, I hear –

'Rai? Is that you?'

Something hard kicks me in the side, and I jump, startled. 'Watch it!'

Squinting, shielding my eyes as they adjust badly to the daylight, I can just about make out – goddammit. Boots, caked in filth; the spiky, cropped hairstyle so unlike our Futurist fashions; her scarred, hideously-marked skin. . .

I know her. I'd know her anywhere.

Cadence.

She taps her foot, peering down at me with an amused expression. Her arms slouch under the weight of her black coat; why does anyone need a coat that thick here? It's never that cold in Singavere. She holds out a hand to help me up, which reluctantly, I take. A graphic image is etched in ink onto the blotchy skin of her arm: a person, consumed by flames, poking out from beneath the cuff of her sleeve. The sight of it makes me feel even more queasy – I drop her hand the second I can.

Cadence doesn't seem offended. 'Didn't expect to see you again so soon.'

'Likewise,' I mutter, turning away. She isn't the last person I want to see in this state, but, she's definitely on the list. 'Come on, Henry, let me up. I'm not feeling so good. Fly slow, okay?'

Henry dips down next to me, hovering obligingly by my waist, but Cadence steps forwards and pushes down on top of him to stop me boarding.

What the –! I wince. You don't touch another person's drone without permission. It's just not done, it's unthinkably disrespectful; my already red face flushes deeper still. This one simple act shows exactly what she thinks of me.

'G-get off,' I stammer, finally finding my voice. 'What do you want?'

Cadence smirks, running a finger along Henry's body; it sends a shiver down my spine. And she knows it. 'Oh, don't be like that. What's the rush? You weren't in such a hurry the other night.'

I close my eyes, summoning every ounce of control I can possibly muster. 'I'm sorry, but my Master needs me home. I imagine he has a job for me.'

'I imagine he has.' Something in her voice makes my eyes snap open; her lips are curled in a very unpleasant way.

No. It's too much – I jerk my neck, and an instantaneous, numbing sensation floods through my body. I sigh in relief. It feels so good not to feel. 'Is it you again?'

'Oh, darling, you'd be so lucky. I just wondered if I could waylay you a little, that's all. I'm thirsty.'

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'No. There's an AI-vendor right there. Or if you're desperate, you have a local authority, you know. Contact them.' I snatch Henry away from her, and swing my leg over him. 'And if you can't afford it, well, you've got Titus' number. I'm off duty now so piss off.' I kick off from the ground, not even glancing back at her. I don't want to look at her. I feel sick enough as it is.

'You'll be seeing me again soon enough!' Her voice floats up behind me, but by now, I'm no longer listening. I've flooded my ears with music again – this time, even louder – and Henry's taking me home.

Home.

Auden's waiting for me by the front door. I bolt into his arms, and he closes them around me, his hands in my hair.

'Where've you been, I've been so worried! The state of you. . . what are we going to do with you?'

I don't answer. How can I? I don't know. I just want someone to hold me and never let go.

*

'Don't wait up, Kareen, we won't be back for hours.'

Titus strides down the hall, his suit-jacket flung over his shoulder; wards poke their heads around doors just to watch him leave, eyes wide with awe. And probably a little envy. Of me, obviously – I follow in his wake, confidently enough for Kareen to click her tongue in jealousy and Strike to hold his fist out for me to bump as I walk past. I spot Dove as we pass her room; she staunchly avoids my eyes. I pause. My moment's hesitation not lost on Titus.

'Hurry up, Rai. We don't want to be late.'

'Coming!' I glance back at Dove. She seems determined not to look at me – I yank her towards me by the wrists and whisper in her ear. 'It's okay, it's not your fault.'

'I know that, dumbass,' she hisses, but then she grabs me, holding me close; I can feel her delicate frame trembling. I flinch on reflex, then try to pretend I haven't. But I can't fool Dove. Her expression sours, eyes darting to my ribs. 'What did he do?'

'Nothing, nothing!' It's obvious she doesn't believe me. All I can do is shoot her an apologetic shrug before taking off after Titus, Henry buzzing along behind me.

Titus is waiting outside. 'Are you ready?'

'O-of course!' I nod, stumbling over my words in my eagerness to prove myself. 'I told you I'd make it up to you; anything, Lord Titus. You just say the word.'

'Alright.' He regards me with appraising eyes, before leading me down the path to where our ride is waiting. We get inside and the car drives off, without either of us uttering another word.

We head for Singavere Station, the biggest centralised location for all the most common Wormhole destinations. You can go almost anywhere: the Amarilands, Slavskanistan, the Mist Archipelago, the Caeltanican mainland. . . anywhere on Tellus, mere steps away. Yet another thing that makes Singavere the perfect Capital. Other than, you know, it having the world's best academic minds and engineers, and the biggest spaceport in the galaxy. I gaze longingly at the signs to the spaceport – I wish we were going there. But we aren't. We couldn't be going anywhere more opposite if we tried.

I dock Henry in a charging-bay; he cocks his round frame at me, lights blinking mournfully.

'Sorry, buddy, you know I can't take you.'

'Beep boop,' Henry buzzes, before turning his back on me, settling into the docking bay. He hates it when I leave, but I've got no choice – the conductor's already calling:

'Last call for the ten o'clock to Yama, Sǝhrazona!'

Henry will have to wait. I race from the charging bay straight into Titus; he grabs me by the shoulders and steers me through the crowds to Wormhole twelve.

'Two tickets for Sǝhrazona.' Titus shows the conductor our passes. The conductor raises his eyebrows.

'You sure, my Lord? Nothing nice out there. You'd be better off saving your money for the next shuttle to Ra.'

'We have urgent business to attend to. Are you going to let us through?'

'Oh, of course, Lord Titus, my sincerest apologies.' The man turns a brilliant shade of magenta, and stamps our tickets so fast he drops his stamper. Titus laughs, stepping over the man. Careful not to tread on him, I edge around the conductor, throwing him an easy smile as we pass. A look of relief spreads across his face as he raises his hand to bid us farewell.

Or maybe he's just glad to be rid of us. Who knows.

Wormhole twelve is a wasteland; other than an elderly couple waiting on a bench by the barriers, we're alone. A whistle blows in the distance and out of the blue, the barriers start to rise. Clasping my hand tight, Titus steps through the Wormhole, pulling me in after him; other than a surrounding feeling of warmth, it's as smooth and effortless as stepping through a doorway.

We stand in Yama, Sǝhrazona.

And my god, it's as different to Singavere as it could possibly be.

'Titus, it's raining.' Thunder, real thunder, crashes above our heads; bright white lightening streaks across the sky, carving a scar that cleaves the heavens in two. Except, this sky isn't the sky I know – not blue, but a venomous purple, swirled with darkest charcoal grey.

'Quick, under here!' An umbrella blossoms from Titus' pocket, and we huddle underneath like penguins, instantly soggy and frozen.

'I thought you said people would be waiting for us?'

'I thought they would.' As Titus frowns, a spot of rain splashes onto his nose and he jumps as though electrocuted. I begin to shiver, and Titus puts his arm around me, hugging me tight. 'I'm sorry, Rai – I honestly thought they'd be here. You know I'd never deliberately subject you to this hell-hole any longer than necessary.'

'I – I kn-n-n-ow.' My teeth chatter; catching each other's eyes, we grin weakly. It always feels weird, travelling through time zones, but especially when coming to places like this. Places that can't afford the luxuries I'm used to: our specially designed sky, carefully controlled temperatures; unpolluted air, treated to get rid of toxins; and most importantly to me and the part I play in all of this – clean, fresh water.

There's a squeal of breaks and an almighty surge of water; a car shudders to a halt next to us. My jeans are instantly soaked. Titus bundles me inside more forcefully than I expect; two men sit in the front, and the smell of them – it's all I can do to stop myself gagging.

'You got what we need?' one of them grunts. His shaggy, unkempt hair falls over his face, but I still notice the stains on his teeth as he bares them at me. The other man just glowers into the distance, even more grizzled and weather-worn than his friend.

'Right here,' Titus said, clapping me on the back so hard I jerk forwards. The two men exchange glances, their expressions loaded with cynicism.

'Right. . . We heard you had a kid, but seriously. It's just him? Surely he needs some equipment or something.'

'No, just him and his bare hands. Just take him where you need, and then drop him back here when you're done. I'll wait on the other side of the Wormhole, alright, Rai?'

I nod, and Titus drops a kiss on my forehead, before holding out his hand to the men in the front.

'You get nothing without payment.'

'You get paid when the job is done,' the grizzled man snarls.

'Oh really? Right, then, Rai, let's be on our way,' Titus says with an easy shrug, making to get out of the car. 'Come on.'

'Wait, wait! Hold your horses.' The shaggy-haired man makes to grab Titus, but quickly thinks better of it. 'We'll pay you now. Just don't go. We're desperate. We've got kids, dammit.'

'Not my problem,' Titus shrugs. 'No money, no service. That's my one, simple rule. If you can't follow it, that's your choice. And I'm entitled to exercise my choice in leaving. With my boy.'

I know it's wildly inappropriate timing, but a drop of pride swells in my chest. My boy, he called me. My boy.

'Here,' Shaggy spits, shoving an envelope into Titus' hand. 'It's all the ration tokens we have. We've been saving up for months. Please, we're begging you. . .'

'It's fine, it's fine. I'll take tokens.' In one swift move, Titus slides out of the car and back under his umbrella, already starting to close the door. 'I'll see you in a few hours, Rai. Night, all.' And with that, he slams the door. I fumble with my seat belt for want of anything better to do.

'You better be worth it, kid,' the grizzly man grunts, tapping the ignition. The car springs into automation, swinging around and bolting into the night; I'm soon very glad of my seat belt.

'I am,' I say, trying to keep my tone as mild as possible. 'You'll see. But it was your choice to spend your tokens on me instead of water, not mine.'

Grizzle and Shaggy look at each other, and burst out laughing; even the car's acceleration sounds like snorts of laughter.

'You got any idea how much a water token gets you?' Grizzle turns around in his seat to look at me; his smell hits me stronger than ever. His cheeks are ruddy, mottled with scars and grey flaking skin. I cringe away from him.

'Here, specifically? No.'

'A trip to the baths once a week, and a bucketful from the well twice a day. How long do you think that lasts?'

This is an argument I really shouldn't have got into. 'Not long?'

'No. It doesn't bloody last long. So yeah, forgive us if we fancy a little bit extra. We've gone for months without luxuries like electricity and soap to collect enough tokens for this. And here's you, judging us, turning your nose up at us.'

My heart begins to hammer; be careful, Rai. I've been down this road before, I know all the ways it can end. 'I'm not.'

'Greg,' Shaggy interrupts, putting a warning hand on Grizzle's shoulder. 'Leave the boy alone. He's here to help.'

'No,' Grizzle snarls. 'He's here to put money in that scheming snake's pocket.'

It's my second car ride of the day in silence, so I close my eyes and fly Henry three times around the Dennydome in my mind. Finally, the car crawls to a stop; the wind is howling, beating its fists in fury against the window, heavy splashes of rain drumming against the roof.

Not a single part of me wants to get out.

'We're here.' Grizzle reaches in and hauls me out, kicking the door shut behind him. I try to wriggle free but damn, he's strong; he sprints with me under one arm, the other shielding his head from the rain. The bare skin of my arms sizzle with every drop; I let out a yelp, and Shaggy tuts.

'Don't be such a wuss.'

Luckily, there's a shack nearby; Grizzle throws me inside and Shaggy bolts the door, slamming a piece of wood across it to stop the wind bursting it open again. It's damp and smelly in here, just like the two men, but at least it's shelter.

We're not alone. Three young children are hunched by a fire, faces pale but glowing in the amber light that reflects off their eyes. They stare. They can't be much older than six. As much as they stare at me, I stare back at them; at their rain-pocked skin, bristly hair, and ragged clothes.

'Hi.' I wave, a little hesitant, unsure if they understand me. If they do, they don't let on – they just continue to stare, blank and frightened, like I'm an alien. Or a monster.

'We've been collecting rainwater, like Titus said.' Grizzle interrupts my thoughts, shoving me in the back. 'It's just through here, in the kitchen.'

This shack has a kitchen? I can't believe it. It doesn't look big enough for a sink. But they prove me wrong; in the next room, a woman leans over an, albeit tiny, sink, washing clothes through gritted teeth. The skin of her hands are burnt red raw.

'Turns out Lord Tit's secret weapon's just a kid, Jules.' Shaggy moves to kiss the back of her head. She spins around, flinging a dirty dishcloth to the ground.

'What do you mean, a kid? What the hell's he going to do?' she yells. 'Spin our straw into gold?'

'No, but I can remove the toxins from your water,' I say, patiently.

'Bull,' she snaps. 'Go back to where you came from, Futurist.'

'We might as well give him a try,' Shaggy sighs. 'We've paid for him now.'

'You WHAT?'

'I can help,' I say, walking towards her, trying to keep my voice as gentle. 'Please? Let me do my job.'

'Fine!' Furious tears burst down her cheeks as she points to an deep tub on the other side of the room. 'Like we haven't wasted enough money on you; let's waste our time as well.'

I'm shocked the room can fit anything so big inside it. It's full of water, but not as I know it. This water is, like, a murky grey, fused with pink; fumes drift up from the surface, letting off a strong, eggy smell. My dinner churns.

Still, that's why I'm here. I perch on the edge of the tub, hovering my fingers above the surface of the water, closing my eyes. I need to find a place of peace. I think of Henry, the feel of racing on his back, clean, fresh wind in my hair, and grin. My fingertips touch the surface –

The sting. It burns, so much. On instinct, water from inside my fingers sprouts through my skin and spreads across my hands to form a barrier. Like a glove. The woman is shouting; I hear her as though from the other end of the tunnel. Ignore her. Ignore everything. The sting is okay now, I can hardly feel it; instead, I channel every ounce of energy I have through my fingers into the water.

'Clean,' I whisper. Then I slip my hands deeper into the water, and, with a faint moan of effort, ease something foul and unnatural from the particles inside. 'Ugh, what's in this?'

I know other people can't do what I can do. I know I'm special. But it's moments like this that I really understand.

I open my eyes to marvel at the flow of liquid, of life, circling my right hand like an orb of glass, whilst my left hand siphons away the toxins. It's easy to coax the poison away; to me, it feels as different to water as sandpaper feels to glass. Clean, fresh water rises to surround us in a quivering dome, desperate to please me, to mould to my every whim.

How can I describe it? It's a bit like a dance. When you and your partner intertwine, when you mingle and merge, flowing as one, as an extension of each other. That's what water is like to me.

The people in the shack watch, gobsmacked. With a laugh, I funnel the water into one of the nearby kegs.

'I'm gonna need another barrel.'

And that's the end of the woman's doubts. By the end of the night, she's hugging me, kissing me, her children pouncing all over me. They dive into the barrels, splashing each other, all solemnity dissolved, banished. Tears streak down Grizzle's face as he pours water into his daughter's mouth, and a satisfied glow warms me from inside. This is the sort of job I love.

They deliver me back to the Wormhole as promised, and again, it's laughter, hugs and words of gratitude. I've heard it all before, but it's always nice. My hands are still wet and tingling from the tub so I hide them behind my back so the family can't see how red and swollen they are. I flee from the car to the Wormhole station, calling to them with goodbyes. But the second I step through the Wormhole? They vanish.

The glaring lights of Singavere Station blind me for a moment. I peer through my fingers to see if Titus is waiting for me on the bench. No, not this time. More often than not, whatever he promises, he isn't there when I get back.

Someone else is though. Cadence. Spiky, grubby Cadence, chilling on the bench without a care in the world. Holy mother of –

But this time, she's not alone. And her company is bloody weird: a battered old-man with a lopsided mouth, a girl with a cloud of dark hair, and a boy in a mohair cloak. Yup, mohair, in the Singaverean summer. And he's looking at me like I 'm the freak-show.

'Finally!' The man rises and steps towards me; I retreat on instinct. Any friend of Cadence is definitely no friend of mine. 'We've been waiting for you.'

'Who are you?' I fold my arms across my chest, trying to contain my hammering heart. 'What do you want, Cadence?'

She winks at me, and I actually want to throw up.

'Actually, her name's Brie.' The man smiles, taking another step towards me. 'And my name's Eldred. I've been searching for you. And who am I, Rai? I'm your family. I've come to take you home.'