Despite having disconnected from their group network for safety’s sake, each of the clones picked up Xavier’s distress. The power of his howl of despair battered their neural pathways and sent a shockwave of panic into their motherboards. He was alive, he was desperate and his appeal for help was impossible to resist. 

When Xavier came to, and found himself back in a box, his first reaction was curiosity. He remembered chasing after Emma and Delphine and then - nothing. His senses were dulled, his communication was absent and his head hurt. He couldn't move. By dint of flexing his muscles he found that his hands and feet were taped together. How had this happened? Why was everything so muffled? He shook his head but it didn't help. 

I’m supposed to get a text when my return arrives back at the depot,’ said Kim as they headed for the car. ‘So we should know for sure when we're safe again. In the meantime, I vote we don't go home.

‘How far to the nearest Post Office?’ said Kim, as she indicated left and pulled out of the parking area.

'You'd better check there are no restrictions on his breathing, just before you put him in the box. Don't want him to die on us just yet, do we?’ said Joe.

Bronte helped Alain and Hugo climb up. It was a struggle to get onto the roof, the lorry’s sides were smooth with little to grab hold of. They had a nightmarish moment when they thought the driver of the lorry had returned, to move it away. Their luck held, he had come back to retrieve something from the cab and left again.

Xavier was in a quandary in the restroom. More comfortable in one sense at least, he needed to return to his original position at the rear of the complex, or face the wrath of Euron. At the same time, he was debilitated by a very strange sensation, that of total detachment from the clone network, which he was struggling to process. He had known the others were somewhere close by but now, suddenly, they were nowhere. He was entirely alone, with none of the customary low level background interference from the various communication networks that were installed in his system. It confused him. Never, since becoming sentient, had he been so totally and completely on his own. There was a void where the streaming data ought to be.

They drew. They took it in turns to draft and amend the plan, drawing and redrawing different lines to connect the little figures. Nobody spoke. They erased and moved things about until, finally, they were finished. 

Xavier was becoming more and more uncomfortable. He was mindful of the instructions he had received from Enron not to move but his personal imperative was greater. He stood up, stretching to ease the stiffness in his back and legs and set off

‘Joe, this isn't helping. What are we going to do?’

‘No longer available...?’

Joe limped back across the parking area and Kim could see the disappointment in the slope of his shoulders.

Xavier had no plan, apart from the syringe, which would deal with two clones at the most, if he could distract the others while he used it. Then he had to close down a third, while persuading Emma and Delphine to support his work. There was also Kim and Joe to manage. He had no idea how any of this could be accomplished now. He had been programmed to be efficient but no options presented themselves. He needed time to think.

Xavier hesitated at the back entrance to the building. Euron had given him a plastic key to get through the door, but it was a flimsy slice of resin and the lock had not accepted it. The slight tingle that announced a new communication fluttered behind his ear.

‘We really need to get hold of Jean-Claude, and fast.’ Joe released his seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

‘I think we have to face up to the fact that Xavier is an additional threat,’ said Kim. ‘Emma and Delphine told us they think he's working with Euron and not in a way that will be beneficial to the rest of you. Did you know about this?‘

'What's this Kim?’ Delphine pointed to the cucumber sticking up out of the bag.

They watched from the car while Kim filled a basket with sandwiches and fruit in the shop. 

Kim persuaded Joe to get in the car, despite his better judgement.

Brontë drove carefully, mindful of all the regulations.

Xavier was hunting. After an hour’s striding through the streets, he too had discovered that wifi signals leaked through walls in a surprisingly large number of places. He paused a couple of times to orient himself without giving away his own position to anyone who might be lurking in the digital highways. At least one of his fellow clones had not been quite so careful. There were several traces of Brontë’s interactions and he managed to fix her position quickly. He was surprised at the speed she was moving though, much faster than he could manage. How was she doing that?

It took Joe a little longer to get ready than usual. He cut himself shaving and then couldn’t find the styptic block to stop the bleeding. His fingers fumbled over his shirt buttons and he couldn’t find a matching pair of socks in his drawer. In the end he pulled on two that were approximately the right colour, but one was short, the other long.

‘We’ll have to get some more food on the way,’ said Kim. ‘There’s nothing much left to eat. Joe - hurry up and get dressed, we need to get going.’

Xavier was making slower progress than he would have liked. He was almost sure the others would be heading back to the main complex, probably on foot and they had a head start on him. He was not altogether sure where Bella’s house was, but it seemed it was a car journey apart from the Driver’s home. His intention was to intercept them before they arrived. Quite how he could corral them until Euron arrived to deal with them he wasn’t sure but hoped an opportunity would present itself. His final problem was how to ensure Emma and Delphine’s obedience. If all else failed, he planned to force their compliance with the threat of Solution A. Not ideal, not subtle, but he was sure it would be as effective as holding a pistol to their heads.

It turned out the internet was full of helpful advice on obtaining cars without actually paying for them, and it took the three only about twenty minutes to identify a suitable older car that had been left unlocked by its owner. 

Kim could feel her tears brimming. Emma’s words brought home to her the difficulty of the clones’ current situation. Initially created as spare part donors, once they had become sentient they were essentially stuck between two levels of being: neither one thing nor another. They had learned enough about how humans lived that they wanted that experience, but knew that someone, probably their maker, considered them an aberration and was working to end their existence. It was an intolerable situation for the young people.

‘How on earth could they do that?’ said Joe. ‘Do they even know who is posing the threat?

Back at the house, the logic council was convened.

Their walk through the side streets was otherwise uneventful. They paused to pick up the internet now and again, from leaky unguarded modems and over-efficient fridge ordering systems, but could glean no information about their pursuers. As the sun came up, there were one or two more people out and about, but no-one took any notice of the three walking quietly along, apparently on their way to work.

‘Oh, there you are,’ said Bella. ‘I’ve been trying to ring you on your mobile but it keeps going to voicemail.’

‘I’m calling Jean-Claude,’ said Kim. ‘Where’s the phone?’

Emma and Delphine were staring at both of them, their eyes hooded with worry.

‘I don’t understand what you’re suggesting.’ said Joe. ‘It makes no sense.’

Kim raced back upstairs.

On Tuesday morning, Kim was the first downstairs. She went through her usual routine, enjoying the silence before the rest of the household woke up. She emptied the dishwasher and filled the kettle, ready to make tea and coffee for breakfast. It was only when she glanced towards the front door she realised there might be a problem. The door was already unlocked. She glanced around quickly - there was no sign of a break in, everything was just as they had left it the night before.

The vans seemed to take an eternity to progress down the silent road, but eventually they disappeared from sight.

‘Which direction Brontë?’

As she made her way upstairs to bed, Xavier’s words pricked at something in her mind, but it was a loose swirl of cobwebby information which evaded her grasp, dissolving like vapour and slipping away. She sighed. It was no use trying to retrieve whatever it was her unconscious was signalling, she supposed it would come back to her eventually.

'There’s nothing we can do until Alain or one of the others get in touch. Let’s have that coffee and then I suggest we get some sleep and worry about it tomorrow,’ said Joe.

‘Are you saying we should return to the complex? To do what? The risk would be huge.’ Hugo hunched into himself, his arms hugging his body.

‘Does it matter which of them is on our trail?’ asked Brontë.

‘Somebody called Mildred Hubble suggests a flying broomstick is the most effective method of transport in situations like this.’

‘You’d still have to be quick, to avoid detection,’ added Alain.

The three clones sat side-by-side on the floor in Bella’s living room. She had provided pillows and blankets and left them to arrange themselves for the night.

‘Those aren’t police, are they?’ Kim leant into the screen and looked closely. ‘There’s no numbers or writing on their uniforms, and I’m pretty sure the police have to have that by law.’

‘It’s 9.30.’ Joe was checking his watch. ‘Wherever can they have got to?’

They had a very satisfying supper, finishing things off with three different kinds of ice cream they found in the freezer.