Except none of this made sense. Lex was good with IT stuff but surely he wasn’t capable of hacking into the database of a top secret government department? Then again, how would I know what he was capable of? I hadn’t even known that his new job was with Fostergames. Lex and I hadn’t talked much for the past couple of weeks. I’d been caught up with all the Medusa stuff, while Lex had sounded distracted. I’d thought it was just the new job – the new girlfriend – but now . . .

  My eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Ketty?’ Nico shook my arm. We were in the back of the car now, zooming away from Fostergames. ‘Please talk to me. You’re acting really weird. What happened?’

  Maria twisted round from the driver’s seat. ‘What did you see?’

  I swallowed, trying hard to pull myself together. Trying to work out what to say. One thing I was sure of . . . I couldn’t tell anyone what I’d seen. Who I’d seen. Not without talking to Lex first.

  ‘It wasn’t much,’ I said, shakily. ‘I saw this man hand over something to another man. I didn’t see either of their faces. But the first man said he had a recording to do with the MoD data.’

  Maria nodded, her thin lips pressed together. But Nico was looking at me, frowning.

  ‘That’s all you saw?’ He sounded sceptical. ‘Why did it make you so upset, then?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, turning to look out of the window. It was still raining – a light drizzle that made everything outside – the passing cars and people and streets – seem slightly misty and unreal.

  I shoved my hands deep into my pockets. With a jolt I made contact with the little troll from Lex’s desk. I’d been holding it in my hand when I had the vision. I must have put it in my pocket without realising.

  Our head teacher, Mr Fox, met us at the school gates. He was waiting for us, pacing anxiously up and down – his huge frame filling the front path. I like Mr Fox. He’s Nico’s stepdad as well the head – and it’s obvious how much Nico means to him. Plus I liked how he’d tried to stand up for us when Geri Paterson forced us to be part of the Medusa Project.

  ‘What happened?’ Mr Fox said. ‘Are you both all right? Ketty looks pale.’

  ‘We’re fine,’ Nico said.

  ‘Though Ketty’s vision has disturbed her,’ Maria added. ‘I need to take her to Ms Paterson straight away.’

  Oh, God.

  Mr Fox turned to me, his forehead creased with a frown. ‘It sounds like she should be in the sick room.’

  ‘I’ll take her,’ Nico volunteered.

  ‘I don’t need to go to the sick room,’ I insisted. ‘I’m fine.’

  Mr Fox nodded, reluctantly. ‘Okay. Well, Geri’s waiting for you in my office. I’ll come along in a moment, make sure you’re all right.’

  Maria took me to Mr Fox’s office. Geri Paterson was perched on the arm of his big leather chair. As usual, she was smartly dressed in a suit and blouse. Her fine, sharply-cut bob swung against her chin as she looked up at me. I had no idea how old she was – older than my mum, I thought – but not slow, like most older people – there was something restless about her that made her seem young – like a bird, always pecking around for the next bit of food.

  ‘You may go, Maria,’ she said.

  Maria backed out of the office and shut the door. Geri smoothed an imaginary speck of dirt off the front of her jacket. ‘So, what happened?’ she said. Her eyes bored into me, somehow managing to look both cold and excited at the same time. ‘What did you see, Ketty?’

  I hesitated, then told her what I’d told Nico and Maria.

  ‘That’s it?’ Geri sounded disappointed.

  I nodded, feeling awkward.

  ‘What brought on the vision?’ Geri leaned forward in her chair.

  I shuffled uncomfortably, thinking about Lex’s desk. How I’d noticed the photo of him and the girl . . . the little troll on his in tray . . . I felt in my pocket for the tiny figure, its hair rough against my fingers. ‘I’m not sure what brought it on . . .’

  ‘Okay, what was the last thing you saw before the vision?’ Geri persevered.

  I shrugged.

  Geri frowned. ‘A photo perhaps?’ she said. ‘Of a family member?’ She paused. ‘A brother, perhaps?’

  I stared at her. Her eyes were bright and hard. My mouth fell open.

  ‘You knew?’

  Geri sat back, laughing her thin, tinkly chuckle. ‘That Alexander – Lex – works for Foster? Of course I knew. Why d’you think I was so insistent that you look at every single desk in the office.’

  I gritted my teeth, unable to get my head around what she was saying. ‘You mean you wanted me to find out he worked there while we were snooping about?’

  ‘Of course, dear. I mean, it was obvious from your reaction during the briefing you had no idea where your brother’s new job was. An opportunity, I thought. And then the agents who have the place under surveillance told me that there was a photo of your brother on his desk. I was hoping that when you saw it, it might prompt you into a vision – just as seeing Nico on that cliff top prompted the one before.’

  ‘So you think Lex is involved in the MoD hacking?’ My mind was careering wildly around different possibilities. Did Geri already suspect him?

  ‘No, dear.’ Geri flicked back her hair. ‘Of course not. As you know, all the clues we have point to Foster as a loner. We know he has advanced IT skills – he was in trouble as an adolescent on hacking charges, though the case was dropped – and there are many aspects of the MoD hacker’s style which echo his juvenile hacking signatures. Foster will have his reasons for what he’s doing, but I doubt if they include any desire to endanger any of his employees. I just hoped the shock of seeing your brother’s picture when you were already in a stressful state would . . .’

  ‘. . . would tip me over the edge into a vision?’ I stared at her. Anger settled – hard and solid – in my stomach. How dare Geri manipulate me like that?

  ‘Which it did,’ she said, as if that justified everything.

  At that moment the door opened and Mr Fox appeared. ‘I think Ketty’s had enough for one day,’ he said, his voice gentle but firm.

  ‘Fine. Call me if you have another vision. You’ve got the emergency number I gave you at the briefing, haven’t you?’

  I nodded feeling sullen.

  Geri waved me away with her hand. ‘Just remember everything you’ve been told about Foster is in the strictest confidence, Ketty. Under no circumstances are you to tell your brother of our suspicions – you’ll not only jeopardise our investigations, you may well put Lex in danger.’

  I left the office in a daze. Mr Fox led me along the corridor to the stairs to the girls’ dorm. He kept shooting anxious glances at me. ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Ketty?’

  I made a huge effort trying to reassure him, pretending I was just tired. It was past curfew and Monday – a school night, so I knew there was no chance of seeing Nico again before morning. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him anyway. It felt wrong not telling him the truth, but how could I admit to what I’d seen? That Lex was the hacker . . . that at some point in the future he was going to hand the MoD information to someone for . . . well, for money, presumably . . . I could barely admit it to myself, let alone tell someone else.

  I walked into the dorm. It was a big room, with four beds, a long wardrobe and a private bathroom off to the left. Of the three boarding schools I’d lived in, Fox Academy was by far the most comfortable. I’d been here since the start of the school year – when Mr Fox contacted my parents and offered me a place – and it had felt like home straight away.

  Right now, though, it felt like a prison. On top of which, all three of my cellmates were in the room.

  Don’t get me wrong. Normally I didn’t mind sharing. Most of the girls at Fox were nice enough and though I didn’t have a bestie, I was kind of friends with almost everyone. Not quite all, though . . . Dylan was stretched out on her bed, flicking through one of those boring fashion magazine
s. As she saw me, she swung her long, slim legs round and sat up.

  ‘You look real awful,’ she drawled in her American accent.

  Charming.

  Right then, I wished I didn’t have to share a dorm room. Especially with Dylan. I think Mr Fox hoped we’d get on or something, because of us both having the Medusa gene. I don’t know what fantasy world he was living in. Dylan doesn’t get on with anyone.

  Noises from the bathroom. I glanced through the door, where our room-mates, Lola and Lauren, were giggling away over something. They didn’t know about Medusa. No one else at school did. Just Mr Fox, Nico, Ed – and Dylan.

  ‘I’m going for a run,’ I said, reaching under my bed for my trainers. I’d only bought them the week before. Expensive Asics with an air-cushioned sole.

  ‘Whatever floats your boat.’ Dylan twisted her long red hair round her hand. She lowered her voice. ‘So what happened in Foster’s office?’

  ‘Not much.’ I glanced again at the bathroom in case we were being listened to, but the other girls were giggling harder now, paying us no attention. ‘I just . . . I feel a bit weird . . . need some air.’

  ‘Well don’t barf over me, these are designer jeans.’ Dylan turned back to her mag.

  Snotty cow.

  I grabbed my Asics, tied a piece of string round my hair and left the room. I slipped down the stairs and let myself out of the fire door at the back of the school, praying I wouldn’t run into any of the teachers. It was almost 11 p.m. now – I’d get a detention if I was caught outside at this time.

  I ran round the back of the school, past the playing fields and into the Top Field. I don’t know if I can explain how amazing running is. How it calms me down. It’s like . . . the first few minutes it’s an effort and nothing feels quite right and then it’s like the world comes into focus and your breathing steadies and you feel like you could run forever.

  A few weeks ago, just at the start of the Medusa Project, I twisted my ankle and couldn’t run properly for a week. It was awful. I was supposed to be running in a marathon around then, too – Nico sorted it – but it didn’t happen.

  I ran on now trying to focus on myself crossing the finish line of the London Marathon. But Lex and my vision was always there – a nagging anxiety in my chest. After a while I stopped and leaned against a tree. The wind was cool on the back of my neck. I took a deep breath of the crisp night air, my thoughts settling at last.

  My vision suggested Lex was – or was going to be – involved in the MoD hacking. But there was only one way I could know for sure. I had to call him, no matter what Geri had said. I took my phone out of my pocket. It was nearly half-past eleven, but Lex was often up past midnight.

  Hands shaking, I found his name on my contact list and pressed call.

  3:Trust

  The phone went straight to voicemail. Damn. I left a hurried message asking Lex to call me as soon as possible, stressing it was really important, then jogged back to the school building, still deeply troubled.

  I half thought about calling Mum and Dad out in Singapore. They’re our adoptive parents – they took me and Lex in after our birth mum died. Mum and Dad knew about the Medusa gene and my visions, though not about Geri Paterson’s Medusa Project. But Lex and my dad don’t really get on, and I didn’t want my brother in any more trouble.

  I fell into an uneasy sleep. Dylan woke me, shaking me by the arm, at 6.45 a.m. the next morning.

  ‘Get up,’ she hissed. ‘We’ve got training with Maria in ten.’

  Crap. I groaned and rolled over. Everything that had happened yesterday flooded back. I had to get hold of Lex, that was the important thing. I pulled on my sweats and followed Dylan down to the assembly hall, where we did our self-defence training. As far as the rest of the school were concerned, we were getting extra help with maths.

  As we waited for the others, I sent Lex a text asking him to call me when he was up. I’d try him again once our training was over.

  As I finished with the text, Nico and Ed wandered in. Nico winked at me but Ed, his laptop tucked under his arm, just threw me a quick glance and a nervous half-smile. I didn’t take this personally. Ed never looks people straight in the eye – he says it automatically means he reads their minds, which he hates.

  ‘Hey, doofus,’ Dylan sneered. ‘How you doing?’

  Ed shrugged. I folded my arms, annoyance burning in my chest. I hated the way Dylan looked down on Ed . . . well, the way she looked down on almost everyone. But particularly Ed. I felt bad enough about him as it was.

  I guess I should explain . . .

  A few weeks ago, Ed and I had sort of started going out. But then I found out that Nico, who I’d really liked all along, liked me back – so I ended things with Ed and started going out with Nico. But Ed didn’t know about Nico just yet. We were keeping it secret for a bit so as not to hurt his feelings.

  I know, it’s complicated. And, really, the last thing I needed on top of everything else.

  ‘Okay, guys.’ Maria bounded over in her usual blue track-suit, her hair in plaits. ‘Today Geri wants us to work on outthinking the opponent’s attack – specifically, moving at an angle which he will not be expecting. So . . . let’s go.’ She stood in front of Dylan and aimed a punch in slow motion at Dylan’s stomach. ‘Now, Dylan, I know you’d be able to stop this punch hurting you if you saw it coming – but how could you avoid it altogether?’

  Dylan took a step back.

  ‘See that, everyone?’ Maria went on. ‘The instinctive reaction we all have when we’re attacked is to move away in a straight line. Either back or forward, or side to side. But what you want to do is move diagonally, thereby changing both your distance and your direction from your attacker. Let’s try that again, Dylan.’

  ‘That’s enough.’ Mr Fox’s voice boomed from the doorway. He slammed the door shut and marched over. ‘I’ll take over, Maria.’

  ‘But . . .?’ Maria stared at him. ‘But we’ve only just started. And my orders from Geri Paterson are—’

  ‘I’ll deal with Geri,’ Mr Fox snapped. ‘This is my school, Maria. And I want some time alone with my students.’

  Maria gathered up her sports bag and flounced out. I watched Mr Fox, open-mouthed. I’d never seen him so full of barely repressed fury. The others seemed as shocked as I was. We all stood in silence, as Mr Fox gazed at each of us in turn.

  We were dressed identically in the Fox Academy uniform of navy trousers and pale blue sweatshirt but, apart from that, we couldn’t have looked more different. Despite the tension in the room, Nico appeared cool and relaxed. He stood, leaning against the wall, his arms lightly folded and his hair falling sexily over his eyes. Ed, on the other hand, looked awkward and embarrassed. The white shirt he wore under his sweatshirt was buttoned up to the neck and, above it, his face was flushed. Dylan, of course, somehow managed to look like a model in her uniform . . . She stared aggressively at Mr Fox, her hands on her hips and her face sulky.

  I looked down at my own sweatshirt, noticing for the first time a red jam stain just over my left boob . . .

  ‘Why did you send Maria away?’ Dylan demanded.

  ‘So we can work on some basic trust-building exercises,’ Mr Fox said.

  Nico stared at him. ‘Trust-building?’

  ‘What?’ Dylan’s voice oozed with disbelief. ‘Why?’

  ‘The abilities you have are . . . challenging,’ Mr Fox went on. ‘After Ketty’s experience yesterday I think it will be of more benefit to you to feel supported by each other than to learn how to handle yourselves in a fight.’

  ‘Oh, crap,’ Nico moaned under his breath. ‘Man, this sucks.’

  Dylan glared at me. ‘Thanks a million, lightweight,’ she muttered.

  I could feel myself blushing. I looked down at the floor – wooden and covered in scuff marks from the drag of countless shoes and chairs.

  Mr Fox strode up onto the stage and made us follow him with a chair each. He positioned the chairs randomly on the
stage, then held out a blindfold.

  ‘This is a basic trust exercise,’ he said. ‘Each person in turn will be blindfolded and asked to make their way across the stage between each of these chairs without bumping into them or falling off the stage. They won’t be able to see where they’re going, but another person from the group will guide them with claps. Faster clapping when they’re moving too close to either a chair or the edge of the stage, slower when they’re moving too far away.’

  ‘Clapping?’ Nico said, incredulously.

  ‘This is crazy,’ Dylan muttered. ‘We should be practising our psychic abilities – or basic attack and defence – like we did with Maria.’

  I stared at the floor.

  Mr Fox held the blindfold out to Nico. ‘You first.’

  Nico rolled his eyes, but let Mr Fox tie the blindfold round his head. Mr Fox led him up the steps to the top of the stage, then pointed at Ed, indicating he should be the one to guide Nico across the stage.

  Mr Fox spun Nico round.

  ‘Okay . . . Go!’ Mr Fox pressed down on his stopwatch.

  Nico strode off. Ed clapped to guide him round each chair in turn. Nico moved confidently while Ed focused hard. Nico was across the stage in about ten seconds.

  ‘Excellent.’ Mr Fox’s voice registered relief as well as pride.

  Ed beamed and blushed. Nico made a face as he took off the blindfold, but I could tell he was pleased Mr Fox thought he’d done well.

  Dylan chewed on one of her fingernails. ‘How lame was that?’ she said under her breath.

  I ignored her.

  Ed went next, with Dylan guiding him. He moved much more slowly than Nico, and Dylan’s clapping wasn’t as steady or as careful as Ed’s had been. You could see she was getting impatient with him to hurry. Considering how basically uncoordinated he is, Ed made it round okay, sighing with relief as he removed his blindfold.

  ‘Now Dylan,’ Mr Fox announced.

  Dylan’s mouth was set in a sulky expression as he tied on her blindfold.

  ‘Can you see anything under that?’ I whispered to Nico.

  ‘Not a glimmer,’ he said.