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‘I'm sorry,' I say.

Blake sits up on the bed. ‘The officer in charge of the investigation put me up on manslaughter charges. I broke his nose. I wanted to kill him. My father sent people to intervene and the army ended up discharging me on the grounds that I was mentally unfit. After that, I was offered an analyst job at Soteria Security. When I got there, it was all writing reports and compiling data. Mind-numbing stuff. When the contract at Helios came up, I couldn't apply fast enough.'

I feel Blake close down, feel him pull away. I don't know what to say, so I just stay silent. I want the heated moment between us back more than anything. I want to reach for him, help ease his pain.

‘You need to go.' His voice is harsh, raw.

‘Blake.' I touch his shoulder.

‘Stop it.' He gets up and stalks over to his punching bag, his back tense.

Dread weighs my movements as I get off the bed. Blake is breathing heavy and when he looks at me, all I can see is his anger.

‘I don't want you here,' he says, his voice cold. ‘This was a mistake.'

My face flushes. ‘Don't say that.'

He smacks a fist deep into the punching bag, then catches it when it swings back. ‘Do you need me to spell it out? You did this to us when you locked us together. This attraction is a fantasy.' His voice is toneless. ‘None of it is real. You're not even my type. I wouldn't have given you a second glance in another life.'

It's what I needed to hear to finally galvanise my limbs into action, and I march for the door, feeling my face blazing. A rhythmic thumping noise starts up as Blake lays into his punching bag, but I don't look back, even though I want to. For a night to start so magical, it sure had travelled far downhill. Being insulted by both Galloway brothers was infuriating, with both of them acting as if my feelings didn't even matter. I hurry back to my dorm, anger burning through me. Guess being a meathead ran in the family.

I've been lying in Awareness Meditation for an hour and the professor appears to have entered a deep trance, then fallen asleep. Her bulldog snores beside her and everyone has sat up, taking advantage of the moment to chat. Cora lies on her mat beside me, propped up on one elbow and talking about her recent slides with Jeremy. I feel obliged to listen patiently, since I didn't give her any interesting gossip from the fundraiser. But I'm really not in the mood to hear about her crush and silently resent the attention Cora's paying to this guy at the expense of my own troubles. Not that it's Cora's fault that each session with Vogel leaves me a hollow shell, mentally drained, physically sick and temporarily half deaf. I hate the sensation of her poking around my brain, casually batting aside my own talents when they get in her way.

While Cora recollects a funny story Jeremy told her, I gingerly touch a fresh bruise on my cheek from combat yesterday. We'd done twenty minutes of brutal training and, coming after a gut-wrenching session with Vogel, I felt like I'd been turned inside out.

‘Hey.'

I turn to see Archer sneak over and kneel down beside us. ‘You ladies coming to the game on Saturday?'

‘Game?' I ask blankly.

Cora rolls her eyes. ‘Don't you pay attention to anything I tell you? I've already got us tickets.'

‘Great.' Archer gives her a dismissive glance, then looks back at me. ‘I heard you went to one of Director Eckhart's fundraisers. How was it?'

‘Fancy,' I murmur, then change the subject. ‘Sounds like I'll be at the game. Are you in it?'

Archer gives me a disbelieving stare while Cora rolls her eyes again.

‘I'm the captain of the team,' Archer says slowly.

‘Oh. Sorry,' I say. ‘I forgot.'

‘We'll be there,' Cora says cheerfully. ‘Go Hurricanes!'

‘Thanks.' Archer doesn't look at her. ‘You know, there's a bit of a rumour going around.'

‘What kind of rumour?' I ask.

‘That you hooked up with Aaron at the big fancy fundraiser.' He watches me closely for a reaction.

My jaw drops. ‘That didn't happen.'

‘I didn't believe it,' he says, but I'm not sure he means it. I wonder who started it and Olivia instantly goes to the top of the list.

‘Even if it did happen, Josie is a free agent, just like me,' Cora informs Archer.

‘Glad to hear it.' Archer winks at me before shuffling back to his original spot.

‘You know, if we weren't such good friends, I'd be a little jealous of all this attention you're getting,' Cora says with a wistful look. ‘I kind of feel like the sidekick here.'

‘You're not a sidekick,' I say. ‘I'm just a new toy.'

Cora clasps her hands under her chin and flutters her eyelashes. ‘If I had your problem, I'd be dating both Aaron and Archer at the same time. You know, like a sampler box.'

‘Tart.' I shove her arm.

Cora smacks her lips together. ‘I'd be the tastiest kind around.'

When the bell for the end of class rings, the professor is startled out of her trance and quickly dismisses us, nudging her bulldog awake and glaring at him like falling asleep was his fault. Cora and I grab our bags and join the crowds in the corridor.

‘Hello, ladies.' Darsh joins us. ‘We on for some study time tonight at the library?'

‘I can't tonight,' Cora says. ‘I'm meeting up with Jeremy later.'

‘Again?' Darsh doesn't look impressed.

‘You heard the woman. She's got a date with the great Mr Jeremy Murphy.' I say it to make Darsh laugh, but I don't miss the hurt expression that flashes over his face. While I'm apprehensive about seeing Vogel tonight, to the point I don't think I can concentrate, I feel a little sorry for Darsh. Not to mention I've also got a whole lot of catch-up study I need to do. So I squeeze his hand and say, ‘I'll come to the library. I could do with the company.'

‘Okay.' Darsh sounds subdued. ‘See you at seven?'

‘Make it nine,' I reply, thinking of the recovery time I need after my little sessions with Vogel.

‘God. Look at what she's wearing,' Cora says. I follow her gaze to see Olivia talking to Tina at the end of the corridor and I'm reminded of the expensive dress I couldn't return. My feet slam to a sudden halt. Whatever evil plan Olivia is cooking up about Archer, I don't want to be involved. Deal or no deal.

‘I left something in class.' I turn abruptly and crash into someone behind me. A slate goes flying and skids along the floor.

‘Watch where you're going,' Jasmine snarls at me.

‘Sorry,' I mutter.

We both go for the fallen slate, but before either of us can retrieve it, someone trips on it. Shoving people aside, Jasmine snatches it up and stares in horror at the large spider crack across the flickering screen.

‘Sorry.' I bite my lip. ‘It was an accident.'

Jasmine's eyes narrow. She drops the broken slate and lunges at me, her hands outstretched and grasping. ‘You're gonna pay for that.'

I've got time enough to register that she doesn't mean financially, before her hands wrap around my throat. I lose my balance and we both topple over, Jasmine on top. She hammers me in the face and starbursts explode behind my eyes. Vision wavering, I catch a glimpse of Darsh and Cora trying to pull her off me, but then Dutch is there, trying to grab both of them at once so Jasmine can keep attacking me. Cora kicks Dutch in the shins and he lets go of her with a pained yelp. Then she launches herself towards Jasmine, but the blue-haired woman ignores her attempts as her fist smacks into my face again. Blood floods my mouth and my hands flounder about as I try to defend myself. My fingers manage to snag one of her lip piercings. Jasmine's eyes widen and I give her a bloody grin before ripping the ring out.

Jasmine howls, a second before my TK crashes into her and she flies off me with a yelp, rolling to a stop by the crowd of cadets around us. Fuelled by adrenaline and anger, my TP zips forward and braids with my TK, then stabs into Jasmine like a psychic spear. My talents weave a quick thread around the pulsating light of Jasmine's talent and pull tight. Taking control of everything Jasmine is, I force her hair to extend and whip around her like ropes. The blue locks obey my command and I trap her arms by her side.

‘Let me go!' she screams.

I want to scream back at her, but my mouth hurts and I can already feel my thread unravelling, the weight of the lock sapping its strength. A crowd of shocked faces surround us, with people whispering and casting alarmed looks my way.

Someone shouts a warning and the crowd quickly breaks up. The last of my thread dissolves and Jasmine's hair relaxes, falling back to its original state. Cora and Darsh grab my arm and propel me down the corridor in the opposite direction.

‘We've got to go,' Darsh says. ‘You don't want to get expelled for fighting.'

‘Did you see how she controlled Jasmine?' Cora snorts. ‘No one's gonna tell on Josie if they know what's good for them.'

When I hear those words from Cora's lips, a part of me cringes. In coming to Helios, I'd hoped to find others like me. Instead, it's what I've always dreaded: finding out that I'm different. Something to fear.

I skip the rest of my classes and hide out in Cora's room. She and Darsh offer to stay with me, but I tell them I need some time alone. As I lie on Cora's bed, feeling my face throb, I replay what happened. Jasmine's rage was way out of proportion for a broken slate and what I'd done to defend myself could see me thrown out of Helios.

Cora's bathroom mirror shows me a split lip and a bruised face. I take painkillers then lie down and doze, only to be woken by Cora a few hours later. She's managed to get some cream from the medical bay, which reduces my swelling and fades the worst of the bruising. Not feeling up for a session with Vogel, I send Wendell a message that I've come down with something and need the night off.

When Cora announces she's going to cancel her practice slide that night with Jeremy, I assure her I'm fine to still hang out with Darsh at the library. Cora looks doubtful and I end up having to practically push her out the door. Of course, that's not before she insists on putting make-up on my face, including sparkly green eye shadow, which she claims will draw all the attention away from my not-quite-healed lip.

I watch old horror movies until it's time to meet Darsh. When I venture out of Cora's room, people stare at me, conversations falling silent as I pass. The library is half full and curious eyes watch us as Darsh and I sit down. He does a great job of pretending nothing is wrong, pulling out two energy drinks and pushing one over to me. He pops the top of his drink, then hesitates, clearly wanting to say something. I don't press him, just pull out my slate and start scrolling through my notes.

‘I want to tell you something.' He fiddles with the top of the can. ‘I didn't want to tell you before, but after that stunt Jasmine pulled today, I think I should.'

I look up at him. ‘What are you talking about?'

Darsh shifts in his chair. ‘I didn't think it was something you'd want to know.'

‘What did you find out?' People glance our way and I make an effort to lower my voice. ‘Tell me. Please.'

‘Okay, okay.' Darsh picks up his slate and brings up the screen, his fingers flying as he pulls up data. ‘The project I told you about? The Ciliary Gate?' He passes me his slate. ‘I found this footage. There's not much left.'

A video plays on screen and I get a glimpse of machinery in the background, with access stairs and platforms. Before I can study it closer, the camera shifts to frame my mother and my breath catches. I've only ever seen photos of her, and now here she is, a record of her when she was living and breathing.

‘There's no audio,' Darsh says when I start searching for the volume. ‘And it only lasts for a minute.'

Alice wears a white lab coat and her long chestnut hair hangs loose around her shoulders. She looks excited as she explains something to the camera, gesturing at the machine that looms out of view. Then the video cuts to black. I frown and play it again.

‘Why is it so short?' The video finishes for the second time and I repeat it, transfixed by the sight of the mother I can't quite remember.

‘I'm sorry, a lot of the data was corrupted.'

‘What did you find out?' I ask.

‘The machine behind her is the Ciliary Gate. It was supposed to be able to generate an opening into the shadow biosphere and collect data. But there was some sort of miscalculation.'

‘So I heard,' I say. When he raises his eyebrows, I relay the conversation I had with Eckhart on the balcony.

Darsh taps the side of his drink as he listens. When I finish, he nods his head. ‘Whatever came through the gate went through all the security measures that had been put in place and deadly poisons leaked into the environment.' Darsh pauses. ‘Nearly eighty people died. Others were contaminated and quarantined. Some of them made it, some didn't. After that, the Ciliary Gate was put in storage and the project was shut down.'