“Even if you got a router, what makes you think Sam would let you set up your own internet?”

The long, long hesitation was all the confirmation Diana needed.

At last he said, “I don’t know.”

“I know Sam is a nice guy,” Diana conceded. “Nicer than Caine. But Caine has always had respect for what you can do, Jack. Even back before the FAYZ. You know he always let you do your thing.”

“Maybe,” Jack muttered.

“I mean, put it this way: do you imagine, even for a second, that Caine would give you a job as hard as setting up the cell phone system and then just blow you off?”

His silence was eloquent.

“We need you, Jack,” Diana said. “We need you back.”

“I have stuff to do here.”

She put her hand on his arm and he stopped walking. She came around to stand face-to-face with him. She stood too close. Close enough that she could be sure that the hard drive he had in place of a heart was whirring away.

She stroked his face with her fingers. Not too overt, not really a promise, just enough to disorient him, poor boy.

“Come back, Jack,” Diana breathed. “Caine has a job for you. The biggest job you can imagine. The ultimate technological challenge.” She spoke the last three words slowly, pausing dramatically.

Jack’s eyes widened. “What is it?”

“Something only you can do,” she said. “Only you.”

“Can’t you tell me?” he pleaded.

“It’s huge, Jack. Beyond anything you’ve tried so far. Bigger computers. Far more complex programs. Maybe too much—even for you.”

He shook his head, but barely. “It’s a trick. You’re just trying to get me to go back so Caine and Drake can teach me a lesson.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, kid,” Diana said. Time to close the deal. Time to make him believe. “You’re only good for one thing. You’re not Courageous Jack or Fighting Jack or even Lover Jack, although I know you have your sad little fantasies. You’re Computer Jack. Sam won’t let you do what you can do. Caine will. And Jack?”

“Yes.”

“So very much technology. Such a huge challenge. And only you can do it.”

“I . . . I have to think about . . .”

“No, Jack. It’s right now. Right now, or never.”

She turned and began to walk away. Jack stood there, hesitating. But she knew. She had seen it in his eyes.

“Hey. Someone’s been in my room,” Zil Sperry said, coming down the stairs at a run.

Hunter Lefkowitz was splayed out on the couch, one leg up on the back, one leg touching the floor, both arms behind his head. He was watching a DVD of Superbad. He’d watched it at least ten times before. He knew every joke.

“How can you tell, man? The mess your room is in?” Hunter said, barely paying attention.

Zil came around and hit the power button on the side of the TV. “Not finding that real funny, freak. Someone was in my room. Someone took something that belonged to me.”

Hunter shared the house with three other boys, Zil, Charlie, and Harry. They’d been friends back before the FAYZ. They were all seventh graders, and the thing that had united them was their love of the San Francisco Giants. Perdido Beach was definitely Dodgers territory, with maybe a scattering of Angels fans. But Zil and Charlie had moved here at various times from the Bay Area, Harry had come from Lake Tahoe, and Hunter just plain liked the Giants.

So they had banded together to irritate other kids at school by ostentatiously dressing up in the orange and black. They’d gotten together on summer afternoons to watch games.

But there were no pro sports in the FAYZ. No TV, either. The four of them no longer had the one shared interest that had bound them together.

And lately distance had grown between Hunter and the other three for a reason unique to the FAYZ: Hunter was a freak. The other three were normals. At first they’d all talked about it together, like, no big deal, they’d probably all get powers eventually, it was just that Hunter was first.

But as the weeks had worn on, none of the other three had changed at all, whereas Hunter was rapidly becoming a potentially powerful mutant. That had bothered Zil.

It had bothered him more with each passing day.

“Hey man, turn the set back on,” Hunter demanded, pointing angrily at the set.

“Give it back, Hunter,” Zil demanded.

“Give what back, jerkwad?”

Zil hesitated. Then, “You know what.”

Hunter sighed heavily and sat up. “Okay, so you’re accusing me of stealing something and you won’t even tell me what it is? Man, you must be awfully bored to be starting some beef with me over nothing.”

“Beef!” Zil cried accusingly.

Harry came wandering in from the dining room, where he was building a complicated LEGO design, attracted by the sound of raised voices.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

“Moof boy here stole something from my room,” Zil said.

“You’re lying,” Hunter shot back. “And don’t be calling me names.”

“Moof? You’re a mutant freak. Why shouldn’t I call you that?”

“What’s going on?” Harry asked again, bewildered.

“Give it back,” Zil said. “Give it back.”

“You stupid moron, I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” Hunter was on his feet now, red in the face.