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‘You wanted to see me, sir?’ He tried to keep his voice from cracking. The air tasted metallic, a hint of the machines on his tongue.

‘Drink?’ The Senator opened a small fridge below the bench and pulled out a bottle of water.

‘Thanks.’ Donald accepted the water but didn’t open it, just enjoyed the cool against his palm. ‘Mick said he filled you in.’ He wanted to add that this meeting felt unnecessary.

Thurman nodded. ‘He did. Met with him yesterday. He’s a solid boy.’ The Senator smiled and shook his head. ‘The irony is, this class we just swore in? Probably the best bunch the Hill has seen in a very long time.’

‘The irony?’

Thurman waved his hand, shooing the question away. ‘You know what I love about this treatment?’

Practically living for ever? Donald nearly blurted.

‘It gives you time to think. A few days in here, nothing with batteries allowed, just a few books to read and something to write on — it really clears your head.’

Donald kept his opinions to himself. He didn’t want to admit how uncomfortable the procedure made him, how terrifying it was to be in that room right then. Knowing that tiny machines were coursing through the Senator’s body, picking through his individual cells and making repairs, repelled him. Supposedly, your urine turned the colour of charcoal once all the machines shut down. He trembled at the thought.

‘Isn’t that nice?’ Thurman asked. He took a deep breath and let it out. ‘The quiet?’

Donald didn’t answer. He realised he was holding his breath again.

Thurman looked down at the book in his lap, then lifted his gaze to study Donald.

‘Did you know your grandfather taught me how to play golf?’

Donald laughed. ‘Yeah. I’ve seen the pictures of you two together.’ He flashed back to his grandmother flipping through old albums. She had this outmoded obsession with printing the pictures from her computer and stuffing them in books. Said they became more real once they were displayed like that.

‘You and your sister have always felt like family to me,’ the Senator said.

The sudden openness was uncomfortable. A small vent in the corner of the pod circulated some air, but it still felt warm in there. ‘I appreciate that, sir.’

‘I want you in on this project,’ Thurman said. ‘All the way in.’

Donald swallowed. ‘Sir. I’m fully committed, I promise.’

Thurman raised his hand and shook his head. ‘No, not like—’ He dropped his hand to his lap, glanced at the door. ‘You know, I used to think you couldn’t hide anything any more. Not in this age. It’s all out there, you know?’ He waggled his fingers in the air. ‘Hell, you ran for office and squeezed through that mess. You know what it’s like.’

Donald nodded. ‘Yeah, I had a few things I had to own up to.’

The Senator cupped his hands into the shape of a bowl. ‘It’s like trying to hold water and not letting a single drop through.’

Donald nodded.

‘A president can’t even get a blow job any more without the world finding out.’

Donald’s confused squint had Thurman waving at the air. ‘Before your time. But here’s the thing, here’s what I’ve found, both overseas and in Washington. It’s the unimportant drips that leak through. The peccadilloes. Embarrassments, not life-and-death stuff. You want to invade a foreign country? Look at D-Day. Hell, look at Pearl Harbor. Or 9/11. Not a problem.’

‘I’m sorry, sir, I don’t see what—’

Thurman’s hand flew out, his fingers thudding shut as he pinched the air. Donald thought for a moment that he meant for him to keep quiet, but then the Senator leaned forward and held the pinched pads of his fingers for Donald to see, as if he had snatched a mosquito.

‘Look,’ he said.

Donald leaned closer, but he still couldn’t make anything out. He shook his head. ‘I don’t see, sir…’

‘That’s right. And you wouldn’t see it coming, either. That’s what they’ve been working on, those snakes.’

Senator Thurman released the invisible pinch and studied the pad of his thumb for a moment. He blew a puff of air across it. ‘Anything these puppies can stitch, they can unstitch.’

He peered across the pod at Donald. ‘You know why we went into Iran the first time? It wasn’t about nukes, I’ll tell you that. I crawled through every hole that’s ever been dug in those dunes over there, and those rats had a bigger prize they were chasing than nukes. You see, they’ve figured out how to attack us without being seen, without having to blow themselves up, and with zero repercussions.’

Donald was sure he didn’t have the clearance to hear any of this.

‘Well, the Iranians didn’t figure it out for themselves so much as steal what Israel was working on.’ He smiled at Donald. ‘So, of course, we had to start playing catch-up.’

‘I don’t understa—’

‘These critters in here are programmed for my DNA, Donny. Think about that. Have you ever had your ancestry tested?’ He looked Donald up and down as if he were surveying a mottled mutt. ‘What are you, anyway? Scottish?’

‘Maybe Irish, sir. I honestly couldn’t tell you.’ He didn’t want to admit that it was unimportant to him; it seemed like a topic close to Thurman’s heart.

‘Well, these buggers can tell. If they ever get them perfected, that is. They could tell you what clan you came from. And that’s what the Iranians are working on: a weapon you can’t see, that you can’t stop, and if it decides you’re Jewish, even a quarter Jew…’ Thurman drew his thumb across his own neck.

‘I thought we were wrong about that. We never found any NBs in Iran.’

‘That’s because they self-destructed. Remotely. Poof.’ The old man’s eyes widened.

Donald laughed. ‘You sound like one of those conspiracy theorists—’

Senator Thurman leaned back and rested his head against the wall. ‘Donny, the conspiracy theorists sound like us.’

Donald waited for the Senator to laugh. Or smile. Neither came.

‘What does this have to do with me?’ he asked. ‘Or our project?’

Thurman closed his eyes, his head still tilted back. ‘You know why Florida has such pretty sunrises?’

Donald wanted to scream. He wanted to beat on the door until they hauled him out of there in a straightjacket. Instead, he took a sip of water.

Thurman cracked an eye. Studied him again.

‘It’s because the sand from Africa blows clear across the Atlantic.’

Donald nodded. He saw what the Senator was getting at. He’d heard the same fear-mongering on the twenty-four-hour news programmes, how toxins and tiny machines can circle the globe, just like seeds and pollens have done for millennia.

‘It’s coming, Donny. I know it is. I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, even in here. I asked you to meet me here because I want you to have a seat at the after party.’

‘Sir?’

‘You and Helen both.’

Donald scratched his arm and glanced at the door.

‘It’s just a contingency plan for now, you understand? There are plans in place for anything. Mountains for the president to crawl inside of, but we need something else.’