‘ The good news is there are more of them. There’s a supply of viable candidate foetuses, all engineered with the silicon processor chip already housed in the cranial cavity. They’re ready to grow to full term and, of course, come with basic learning AI code pre-installed.’ The Foster on the monitor smiled coyly. ‘ If you’ve been smart, you managed to retrieve your last support unit’s chip and preserved its AI…’

She nodded. Yup. Well, Liam had done that messy business.

‘… so any new support unit doesn’t need to start out from scratch as a complete imbecile, and you can upload the AI from the computer system. So, like I say, the good news is there’s more of them. But the bad news is they’re not going to be delivered to your front door like

… like… some sort of a pizza delivery; I’m afraid you’ve got to go and get them yourselves.’

Sal called out a thirty-second warning and Maddy’s mind returned to the icy water in the displacement cylinder. She eased herself in beside Liam, her breath chuffing out at the cold. ‘Uhhh! This is f-f-f-freezing! How d-do you c-cope with it?’ she asked Liam, her teeth chattering.

He offered her a lopsided grin. ‘It’s not like I get a choice, is it?’

‘Twenty seconds!’ called out Sal.

‘When did you say we’re going, again?’ asked Liam.

‘I t-t-told you: 1906. San Francisco.’

Liam’s eyebrows locked in concentration for a moment. ‘Hold on now

… is that not the same year that… that — ?’

‘Yes?’

‘I remember my dad reading it in the Irish Times. It’s the year that — ’