She carried her drink and a napkin into the living room, stretched out on the sofa, and whispered “Video” to turn on the entertainment panel. But there was nothing except static on any of the cartoon channels. The house had saved a couple of programs for her from yesterday, but they were dull ones — King Koala, The Unbelievable Baxters — and she wasn’t in the mood. She guessed there must be something wrong with the satellite, because there was nothing else to see, either… only the closed-circuit feed from the downloads, Lobster City nighttime, the Subject motionless and probably asleep under a naked electric light.

Her phone buzzed deep in her schoolbag on the floor at her feet, and Tess sat up abruptly. A mouthful of orange juice went down the wrong way. She fumbled the phone out and answered, hoarsely.

“Tessa, is that you?”

Her father.

She nodded, which was useless, then said, “Yes.”

“Everything okay?”

She assured him she was fine. Daddy always wanted to know whether she was okay. Some days he asked more than once. To Tess it always sounded like: What’s the matter with you? Is something wrong? She never had an answer for that.

“I’m working late tonight,” he said. “I can’t take you to Mom’s. You’ll have to phone her and have her pick you up.”

Tonight was the night she changed over to her mother’s house. Tess had a room in each house. A small, neat one at Daddy’s. A big messy one at her mother’s. She would have to pack her school stuff for the change. “Can’t you call her?”

“It’s better if you do it, sweetie.”

She nodded again; then said, “All right.”

“Love you.”

“You too.”

“Keep your chin up.”

“What?”