Genius Squad by Catherine Jinks

gene-map analysis. Some people had therefore claimed that the entire company was founded on a lie – that it was impossible to understand a person using DNA, and that GenoME was defrauding its gullible clients.
    Knowing Phineas Darkkon’s history, Cadel had always been inclined to believe these accusations.
    ‘Are you from GenoME?’ he gasped, and Judith winced.
    ‘Of course not!’ she yelped. ‘Give us some credit!’
    Clearly, she was appalled at the very idea. Trader, in contrast, seemed tickled. He gestured at his own immaculate person.
    ‘Do I look as if I need to maximise my genetic potential?’ he queried. ‘Go on – you can tell me.’ He lifted one foot, and joked, ‘Maybe the shoes could be improved. I was a bit worried about these shoes when I bought them.’
    ‘GenoME is a corrupt and dangerous organisation,’ Judith interjected, ‘and we’re part of a group that’s been given the job of bringing it down.’
    ‘Which isn’t going to be easy,’ Trader said. Suddenly his smile vanished, and its disappearance transformed his face. All at once he looked less like an advertisement for expensive aftershave, and more like someone with a formidable intellect. ‘Legally speaking, GenoME is iron-clad,’ he added. ‘There’s no obvious link to the Darkkon Empire – not one that you could take to court. If there had been, GenoME would have been torn inside out when Prosper English got arrested.’ Suddenly his dazzling smile was switched on again, warming the whole room. ‘But I probably don’t need to tell you that,’ he breezily allowed. ‘You must be pretty familiar with the whole GenoME set-up.’
    ‘Not really. No,’ Cadel answered. He was still pressed against the door, wary and watchful and poised for flight.
    Trader raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.
    ‘Oh, come on,’ he coaxed. ‘With your background, you can’t be completely in the dark about GenoME, I’m sure.’
    Cadel swallowed. He felt an almost imperceptible chill.
    ‘What do you know about my background?’ he asked, trying not to sound as worried as he felt.
    Trader didn’t answer immediately. He seemed to enjoy dangling his secret in front of Cadel – the way a child might enjoy dangling a piece of wool in front of a kitten. At last, however, he teasingly remarked: ‘Heard from any old friends, lately?’
    Sonja’s squawk made everyone else jump. When Cadel turned, he saw that she was writhing in the grip of a severe muscular spasm, brought on by her desperate need to communicate. But though she poked repeatedly at the Dynavox, she always missed her mark.
    Cadel lunged for her hand, and caught it just before it knocked against the arm of her wheelchair.
    ‘It’s all right,’ he assured her. ‘Don’t worry, calm down.’ Then he swung back to confront Trader. ‘Com!’ he said accusingly. ‘You’ve talked to Com!’
    But Trader shook his head.
    ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘Unfortunately not. We only used his name to attract your attention. It was his sister who first told us about you.’
    ‘His sister ?’ Cadel was astonished; he’d been unaware that Com had any family at all. But Trader wasn’t about to expand on the subject of Com’s sister. There were other, more important things to discuss.
    ‘His sister, yes. Of course she didn’t know much, but what she did know was very interesting. And when we tracked you down through the police and welfare networks, we found out a lot more.’ Trader jerked his chin at Sonja. ‘About the pair of you, actually. We’ve been monitoring Sonja’s email – which is how we knew you were coming here today.’
    ‘So you were the one inside Hazel’s machine?’ Cadel was following his own train of thought, back to the mysterious cookie. It all made sense, now. ‘ You designed that program?’
    ‘Not personally, no,’ Trader replied. ‘A kid called Hamish did it. You’ll like him – he’s in our group.’
    Cadel, however, wasn’t interested in Hamish. Hamish