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My name clocked up hundreds of thousands of hits. There was speculation about who I was, and why Scion was offering so much money for my capture. I selected the first result, which took me to a virtual encyclopaedia called Omnia. The entry included a school photograph Scion must have provided to Incrida, which showed me at sixteen, with a face on me like I was chewing a thistle.

Paige E. Mahoney(born 14 January 2040) is anindividualwith extrasensory perceptionwho was, and may remain, a career criminal in theRepublic of Scion. She is a fugitive from Inquisitorial justice whom Scion classifies as a ‘preternatural’ (seeInquisitorial law) for reasons that remain unclear. Mahoney is believed to have been born inIrelandbefore itsannexationby Scion. She came to global attention following her red notice listing on theInternational Criminal Database, uploaded on 3 January 2060 at the request of theRepublic of Scion England.

Mahoney is a person of interest to multiple authorities. An anonymousGazebouser reported a sighting inBerlinon 17 May 2060. Her current location remains unknown. As of September 2060, the Republic of Scion is offering an unprecedented reward of £20,000,000 for her capture and return.

I read the entry again. The entire time I had been in Paris, I had been wanted in the free world.

Scion had prematurely told its denizens that I was dead, only for me to slip the noose and vanish. It hadn’t been able to broadcast my survival to its own denizens, but it had issued the red notice in case I should ever leave the empire. To make sure I had no safe place.

‘There you are.’

I started. Ducos had appeared over my shoulder.

‘Don’t sneak up on a dreamwalker,’ I warned her. ‘If I jump out of my skin, I might end up in yours.’

‘Perhaps you should pay more attention to your surroundings.’ Ducos leaned in to see what I was reading. ‘So you discovered Omnia. Searching for oneself is usually seen as the height of vanity, but I suppose it’s understandable in your case. You are gaining a reputation.’

‘Just what a spy needs.’ I closed it. ‘Do you have a minute?’

‘I could spare one. We’ll talk in the bar.’

Ducos led me downstairs. We sat in the corner of the bar, which was empty at this time of day.

‘Pivot said audiovisual communication with Scion is dangerous,’ I said, ‘but what if I wanted to send a message to someone in London?’

‘It would take a long time, and no small degree of risk,’ Ducos said. ‘What sort of message?’

‘I want to tell the Mime Order I’m alive and contact the leader of the Ranthen. Terebell might have news about Warden.’

Ducos lit a cigarette. She still favoured the slender French ones she had smoked in Scion.

‘I may as well tell you how it all works,’ she said. ‘For someone inside Scion France to contact the outside, the insider goes on foot to the border with a foreign phone. This allows them to connect to a Swiss or Italian network, and ensures Scion can’t monitor the call or message. The point on the border with the highest chance of success, where the anchor has no permanent detectors or signal jammers, is in the French Alps.’

‘And for us to contact them?’

‘All messages and intelligence must be carried and exchanged by Domino couriers. Either they must cross the barrier, or entrust the message to an insider at the border.’

‘There’s a physical barrier across the entire border?’

‘Most of it. It’s known colloquially as the Fluke.’

‘So either way, a courier would have to risk their neck.’

Ducos nodded. As I considered, a possibility occurred to me. Perhaps I could reach Terebell another way.

‘Thanks. I’ll get back to you.’ I stood. ‘Is there a cemetery in Venice?’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘There are two,’ she said. ‘The old Jewish cemetery on the Lido, and the Isola di San Michele, which is in the Venetian Lagoon.’

‘Have there been any recent burials?’

‘Why could you possibly want to know?’

‘In case you’d forgotten, I’m voyant. It’s in my interest to know where the spirits are.’

‘I saw a water hearse the day before I left for the Alps. The vaporetto goes to the Isola di San Michele from the Fondamenta Nove, but I recommend you ask Noemi, our gondoliera, to take you there in her taxi. She makes appointments in the bar from six until half past seven.’ She checked her watch. ‘I need to go. Is there anything else, Flora?’

‘One more thing. Could you translate a message into Italian for me?’