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It had to work. Hypnotism had been used to deaden pain during major surgery. This was nothing in comparison.

"Are you ready, Louise? Fix that overhanging branch in your mind and imagine yourself flying towards it as fast as a bird. Go!"

She blurred through the window. He followed. Not a scream, not a whimper trailed in her wake.

He caught up with her by the branch. "I'm going to count to four, Louise. As I count you're mind is going to clear. You're going to remember everything from the moment you separated. As for the separation itself—that was easy, you didn't even have a membrane to break—and any time you want to separate in the future all you have to do is close your eyes and think your mind free. One, you're beginning to wake up. Two, you're feeling relaxed and confident. Three, you forget what I told you about pain and painkillers. Four."

"I've really separated?" she asked.

"Like you were born to it. Now take in that view and follow the devilishly handsome lampshade."

It was amazing. She was swathed in views. The 360-degree up down all around vision that Nick had told her so much about. It was almost too much to take in.

"Come on," he said. "We'll practice flying in tandem. Fix your mind on me. Imagine we're joined by a wire. Where I go, you go."

He started slowly at first, flying at walking pace parallel to the ground; then slowly accelerating, adding dives and swoops and sharper turns. Louise followed, fixing her mind on Nick's image and thinking stick close. Limpet close. She repeated the words like a mantra.

She passed through clouds, she joined a flying V of geese, she saw ley lines and flaming circles of stone. She flew at speeds she never dreamed she could achieve.

"Exhilarating, isn't it?" said Nick as they blurred along a fiery ley.

Louise didn't reply. There were some things—like giant roller coaster rides and rope bridges thrown across impossibly deep chasms—that were best viewed through the small gaps between one's fingers. This was another. She didn't even have eyelids she could close. It was all right for Nick, he had a bright ley line to fix his mind on, all she had was a fuzzy lampshade. And the knowledge that one centimetre was all that stood between her and the void. One slip and she could be lost forever.

She hung on, persuading him to slow down, persuading him that maybe there were other things they should be doing besides trying to set new speed records.

"Like seeing how far apart we can go and still communicate," she said.

He liked the idea. He slowed and then suddenly veered away from the line. "There's a house over there we can use as a reference."

He positioned himself at the base of the house's front door and told Louise to climb away from him, counting as she went, throwing her words as hard as she could towards him.

She rose up the face of the building, past the top of the door, past the first floor window, the gutters. "Can you still hear me?" she asked.

"Loud and clear," he replied.

She climbed higher, aiming at straight up but finding her course deviating and then, in panic, deciding to follow the roofline instead, hugging the red tiles. She reached the ridge and stopped.

"Can you hear me?"

Silence, then Nick appeared at the base of the roof. "Eight to ten metres, I'd say. We can give it another go back at the rectory. Do you think we've got time to visit Stonehenge?"

"No!"

They spent the rest of the afternoon planning. Nick downloaded a map of America's eastern seaboard and started committing it to memory.

"You can't memorise the entire map," said Louise.

"Don't need to. All I need to know are the rough locations of the major coastal towns. Then as soon as we hit land, I'll follow the coast until I see a city I recognise. The rest is easy. Follow the coast north past Boston then follow the road signs for Manchester. John's itinerary for tomorrow is available on the web so I'll commit that to memory too, along with the relevant portions of the Manchester street map."

It all sounded so easy. Too easy. Hypnotise Peter, free John; use hypnosis to keep John pliant, train him to fly in tandem with Nick; head west, cross the Atlantic, find Manchester, track down the other John; more hypnosis, re-unite the two Johns and then return.

"I'll need to start at first light tomorrow," said Nick. "I'll need as much daylight as I can get."

"What happens if you can't get back in the light?"

"It's always light somewhere. Maybe I'll follow the sun and keep going west."

She envied him his confidence. But it worried her too. Was he taking things too lightly? There were so many things that could go wrong.

"Do you think you should wait another day?" she asked. "Maybe have a dry run across the Atlantic and back?"

He shook his head. "We don't have the time. There might be another death by tomorrow. And the longer we leave it the harder it might be to free John. Who knows what's happening inside Peter's mind? Is it healing over? Is there a time limit beyond which John's sub-personality becomes so well fixed inside Peter that it would take another SHIFT flight to rip it out?"

She hoped not.

The afternoon progressed in growing optimism. John had two engagements the following day, both were in Manchester, both easy to find. And Nick found a room plan of John's hotel. There were only three VIP suites. John Bruce had to be using one of them.

Even Louise found the optimism catching. Nick's plan was no longer fanciful but something that could work. Everything could be over in less than twenty-four hours.

Then the apartment phone rang.

They both froze, their eyes fixed on the red flashing light on the HV unit. Who could possibly be calling? Had someone traced them via the HV? The police? John Bruce?

"Don't answer it," snapped Nick. Not that Louise needed telling, she backed away from the unit. "Should we turn everything off?" she asked.

Nick didn't answer; he kept staring at the light.

The ringing stopped after thirty seconds.

Nick turned to Louise. "It could be a wrong number."

And pigs might separate.

Louise knew exactly who it was. Someone looking for Nick. Someone who'd found out about the apartment or traced him via the HV connection. Her hand flew to her mouth. His enquiry about John Bruce's itinerary and hotel floor plan. Could that have tripped some kind of switch? People monitor those sorts of things, don't they?

"Switch it off," she said. "Disconnect everything."

The doorbell rang.

A second of hesitation then Louise was running. There were knives in the kitchen. She grabbed two: one sharp, one large; started to run back to the lounge then stopped. Should she have chosen something longer, heavier? A mop, a broom handle? Something she could wield from a distance?

The doorbell rang again. She was standing at the top of the stairs, two knives in her hands, staring at the door, her hands. Where was Nick?

She ran into the lounge. He was lying on the floor, motionless, his eyes wide and staring. Was he . . .?

She dropped the knives, bent down by his side, felt for a pulse. He was breathing—barely—and his pulse was almost non existent.

His eyes fluttered. Then he smiled. "It's okay", he said. "It's Adam. He's a friend."

Louise kept both knives close while Nick went downstairs to answer the door. He may have been confident that he'd recognised the person at the door when he'd separated just now, but Louise was less sure. It was getting dark outside and how well could he see from the higher dimensions?

Voices came from the front door. Louise listened, tightening the grip on the knife in her right hand.

Laughter rippled up the stairs. She relaxed.

Nick introduced her to Adam Llewellyn, the owner of the clinic and an old friend of Nick's from his student days. The two men couldn't have looked more different. Adam was well-groomed and smartly dressed. Nick wasn't.

"Does anyone else know we're here?" Nick asked him.

"You mean like the police?" Adam said, arching his eyebrows then smiling. "Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. The idea of you dismembering anyone is laughable." He turned to wink at Louise. "He can't stand the sight of blood."

"What about your staff?" pressed Nick.

"I expect they know someone's here. You can see the kitchen window from the rear of the clinic. But no one knows who you are. As far as the outside world is concerned you're someone from the city who rents the place for weekends and holidays. Just as we agreed."

Just as we agreed. It seemed so clandestine to Louise. Almost as though Nick knew he'd need somewhere to hide when he'd first taken out the lease.

"Do you want coffee?" asked Louise, remembering her manners.

"No, thank you," said Adam. "I only popped round to make sure the apartment hadn't been invaded by squatters." He adjusted his right cuff and glanced around the room. "Though with Nick's sense of decor it's always difficult to tell."

"Clutter is the hallmark of a creative mind," said Nick.

"Then you must be a genius." He smiled and made his farewells then stopped by the lounge door and turned to face Nick. "Oh, and next time you're on the run you might choose to close the curtains and remember to keep the lights turned off at night. Hardened criminals swear by it."

Nick turned to Louise and rolled his eyes. "I'll see Adam out. There's something I need to arrange with him. Won't be long."

"Arrange what?" she asked, but he was already thundering down the stairs.

She waited, checking her watch every other minute. After ten minutes, the front door latch clicked and Nick came running up the stairs. He was carrying what looked like a large black briefcase. He placed it carefully on top of a box in the lounge then ran back downstairs to fetch another.

"What are they?" asked Louise, bending down to examine the nearest one. There wasn't a label anywhere.

"Portable life support units," he said, beaming. "Aren't they great? These are the new ones that even I can use. You plug in the unit, stick a few patches on your skin and the LSU does the rest. Monitors your vitals and tops up your fluids."

Louise was confused. "Why on earth would you want something like that?" And then concerned. "You're not ill are you?"

He smiled. "Not me. It's insurance in case it takes longer to get across the Atlantic and back. I want to make sure I've got a fit, healthy and undeniably alive body to come back to. It's one of the reasons I chose to base my research here. All clinics have to have portable LSUs these days. And maintain them. Handy for when I need to borrow one."

"Why have you borrowed two?"

"Didn't I say?"

She had to admit it made sense. She didn't like it. But it made sense.

"I know I can hypnotise Peter," explained Nick. "And they'll be no membrane of John's to break. The connection to Peter's body will be tenuous at best, but . . . it's persuading him to disconnect and not freak out that worries me. He trusts you. He's more likely to stay calm if you're around and more likely to do what I say if you tell him it's okay."

All true. And as Nick said, it could easily turn into a long trip across the Atlantic. He might have trouble keeping John under for that amount of time.

"But if you're there," he continued. "You can help keep an eye on him. And if we have to stop every few minutes to push him deeper under you'll be able to help with that as well."

"Why didn't you say all this earlier?"

He grimaced. "Mea culpa. I had the impression that you're the type of person who does better when they don't have time to dwell on a problem."

She opened her mouth in surprise. Was she that transparent? Did she have 'compulsive worrier' tattooed across her face? Or worse—Louise Callander, Worrier Princess?

"When did you plan on telling me then? A minute before we were due to leave."

He attempted a boyish smile. "Maybe over breakfast. But I was quite prepared to leave without you. I still am. But . . ." He paused, his face turning serious. "It makes sense for you to come along. I need to know that I'm talking to the real John and not some caricature that Peter's hatched up. I need you to quiz him first. Otherwise . . ."

He didn't have to finish the sentence. Mr. Hyde as President was bad enough but Mr. Hyde and Peter Pendennis on a joint ticket . . . 

It was time.

Louise stood by the window looking out at a dawn breaking grey and overcast. She'd been awake for hours. Anticipating.

And practising. She'd separated twice before breakfast just to prove she still could.

She stared unfocussed into the distance. This was a day she wanted behind her.

"Ready when you are," said Nick from the other side of the room. He'd been playing with the LSUs for the past half hour: checking instructions, untangling cables, making sure all the drips were full and correctly installed.

Louise turned away from the window and walked like a condemned woman to the bed that was now lying alongside Nick's. He handed her the long-sleeved green vest that came with the LSU. She peeled off her own T- shirt and put it on.

"Lie down and I'll hook you up," said Nick, holding an array of tubes and wires in his hands.

She obeyed without thinking, her mind on autopilot. He knelt by her bed, clipping the various tubes and wires into the connectors on her vest. She stared up at the ceiling.

"One more connector," he said. Click. "Now adjusting the levels." He moved to the head of the bed, bent down and tapped in a series of commands.

"Okay, switching on. You could be gone for a week and not even feel hungry. All your fluids topped up, nutrient levels balanced—the lot. Though, don't ask me how it finds a vein—Adam told me once and I'd have preferred he hadn't. Suffice to say—it's clever, computerised and hidden away in that miracle vest. Though, I think they could have come up with a better colour than olive green."

He flicked another switch, tweaked a few wires then stood back. "There, everything's connected and working. You're alive, Miss Frankenstein."