He walked up the glass-lined corridor and turned on the light. It was four a.m. or so. Onto a spiral staircase that burrowed straight down to the coldest part of the building, where the heart of Q-Co was kept just a few degrees Kelvin above absolute zero. Next to Q-Co was the mother lab: repository of living tissue, traces of DNA from thousands of people, the initial samples.

Walking again, through a door, and now he saw that the far end of the hallway was lit up. No one was supposed to be here at this hour. He made his way slowly down the hall, alert to the slightest change in the light.

“Monica?”

He realized that he’d said it out loud. He had called to her, like in his dreams, and here she was, composed entirely of herself: Piera. She looked at him with half a smile. Cassio stopped beside the window that gave onto the room holding the machine. A ray of light from a more distant machine swept across his face.

“I need your help.”