up and Mr Hampton threw her the earring. ‘But a warning – nothing bigger, ever. There have been cases of students using a neodymium magnet to attach ornaments to themselves and then finding they needed surgery to get them off again.’ Almost everyone winced.
‘You got any neodymium?’ Jack asked Itch.
He shook his head. ‘No, but I’m thinking about it!’ he said.
‘Thought you might. That’s your birthday present sorted.’
At the end of the session, Mr Hampton cleared his throat to attract everyone’s attention. ‘Now, I’ve got something you
really
want to hear about,’ he said. He stood at the front of the lab, looking pleased with himself. ‘Dr Dart has given me the go ahead to organize a CA trip to the science museum in Spain. It’s in Madrid . . . It’s not normally a must-see, but they have some new exhibitions. There’s one on nanotechnology, another on 3D printers and, for the element hunters amongst us, a collection of Spanish silver, and how its mining was the start of the modern world. It’ll be at Easter, and you’ll get letters shortly.’
‘Why Madrid, sir?’ queried Itch. ‘It’s not exactly the best science museum we could visit. Munich’s much better.’
Mr Hampton looked unsettled. ‘Well, it’s been, er, updated recently. You may have missed that news. And there’s a good deal on at the moment . . .’ He paused as though he had more to say, but then continued, forcing a smile.
‘Who’s up for it? Assuming your folks all say yes? There are only a limited number of spaces. And it is warmer than the UK!’
Itch looked around – there were lots of hands up. He only vaguely recognized most of the others, but he knew Tom Westgate and Craig Murray from his form – and Natalie Hussain, with the butterfly earring fixed to her left ear, who had put both hands up.
‘Sir, can we bring friends? Please?’
‘Depends on you guys,’ said Mr Hampton. ‘There are ten places, and priority goes to those who come to this science club. If there are still spaces, then yes, of course. I’ll be in touch soon on this. Thanks, everyone.’
As they stood to leave, he added, ‘Itch and Jack – a quick word before you go, please.’
The cousins looked at each other and shrugged. ‘Tell me later,’ said Lucy, joining the others as they filed out. Mr Hampton closed the door behind them and came over to their bench.
‘Good spot, Itch,’ he said. He was speaking softly, as though afraid of being overheard. ‘The Munich museum is way better. Of course it is. However, there’s another factor which I shouldn’t really share with you, but . . . I don’t think the normal rules apply here.’
Itch glanced at Jack; her raised eyebrows indicated that she was as surprised by this as he was. ‘You remember my old colleague, Tom Oakes? The American who helped you at ISIS? I knew him from our days at the Mountain Path mine in California . . .’
‘Sure we do,’ said Itch. ‘He showed us how to destroy the 126. He’s the one who said, “Let’s whomp this sucker,” before we pressed the button.’
‘Yeah, he showed us how to fire the death-ray thing,’ said Jack. Itch was about to correct her, but Mr Hampton did it for him.
‘I’m sure you mean “operate the neutron beam”.’ He smiled kindly and sighed. ‘Well, Tom has disappeared. He was being given a hard time by his bosses for the meltdown at the target station, and he quit.’
‘But that’s so unfair,’ said Jack. ‘Poor man, he was just trying to help us.’
‘He should be rewarded, not punished,’ agreed Itch.
Hampton paced to the front of the lab, then back again. ‘He called me, looking for work.’ He shrugged. ‘I didn’t have any. He said something about an offer from Madrid, but he didn’t sound himself. And he didn’t say anything to his wife.’
‘And you want to look for him,’ said Jack.
‘I should have noticed his distress’ – Hampton was almost whispering – ‘but I
‘You got any neodymium?’ Jack asked Itch.
He shook his head. ‘No, but I’m thinking about it!’ he said.
‘Thought you might. That’s your birthday present sorted.’
At the end of the session, Mr Hampton cleared his throat to attract everyone’s attention. ‘Now, I’ve got something you
really
want to hear about,’ he said. He stood at the front of the lab, looking pleased with himself. ‘Dr Dart has given me the go ahead to organize a CA trip to the science museum in Spain. It’s in Madrid . . . It’s not normally a must-see, but they have some new exhibitions. There’s one on nanotechnology, another on 3D printers and, for the element hunters amongst us, a collection of Spanish silver, and how its mining was the start of the modern world. It’ll be at Easter, and you’ll get letters shortly.’
‘Why Madrid, sir?’ queried Itch. ‘It’s not exactly the best science museum we could visit. Munich’s much better.’
Mr Hampton looked unsettled. ‘Well, it’s been, er, updated recently. You may have missed that news. And there’s a good deal on at the moment . . .’ He paused as though he had more to say, but then continued, forcing a smile.
‘Who’s up for it? Assuming your folks all say yes? There are only a limited number of spaces. And it is warmer than the UK!’
Itch looked around – there were lots of hands up. He only vaguely recognized most of the others, but he knew Tom Westgate and Craig Murray from his form – and Natalie Hussain, with the butterfly earring fixed to her left ear, who had put both hands up.
‘Sir, can we bring friends? Please?’
‘Depends on you guys,’ said Mr Hampton. ‘There are ten places, and priority goes to those who come to this science club. If there are still spaces, then yes, of course. I’ll be in touch soon on this. Thanks, everyone.’
As they stood to leave, he added, ‘Itch and Jack – a quick word before you go, please.’
The cousins looked at each other and shrugged. ‘Tell me later,’ said Lucy, joining the others as they filed out. Mr Hampton closed the door behind them and came over to their bench.
‘Good spot, Itch,’ he said. He was speaking softly, as though afraid of being overheard. ‘The Munich museum is way better. Of course it is. However, there’s another factor which I shouldn’t really share with you, but . . . I don’t think the normal rules apply here.’
Itch glanced at Jack; her raised eyebrows indicated that she was as surprised by this as he was. ‘You remember my old colleague, Tom Oakes? The American who helped you at ISIS? I knew him from our days at the Mountain Path mine in California . . .’
‘Sure we do,’ said Itch. ‘He showed us how to destroy the 126. He’s the one who said, “Let’s whomp this sucker,” before we pressed the button.’
‘Yeah, he showed us how to fire the death-ray thing,’ said Jack. Itch was about to correct her, but Mr Hampton did it for him.
‘I’m sure you mean “operate the neutron beam”.’ He smiled kindly and sighed. ‘Well, Tom has disappeared. He was being given a hard time by his bosses for the meltdown at the target station, and he quit.’
‘But that’s so unfair,’ said Jack. ‘Poor man, he was just trying to help us.’
‘He should be rewarded, not punished,’ agreed Itch.
Hampton paced to the front of the lab, then back again. ‘He called me, looking for work.’ He shrugged. ‘I didn’t have any. He said something about an offer from Madrid, but he didn’t sound himself. And he didn’t say anything to his wife.’
‘And you want to look for him,’ said Jack.
‘I should have noticed his distress’ – Hampton was almost whispering – ‘but I
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