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said. “I hope you’re not disappointed. I just thought it was too much of a risk. Please. Sit down.”
    Alex sat down opposite her.
    “I have something that might cheer you up,” she went on. “I’ve brought you some toys.”
    “I’m too old for toys,” Alex said.
    “Not these toys.”
    She signaled and a man appeared, walking out of the shadows, carrying a tray of equipment that he set down on the table. The man was enormously fat. When he sat down, the metal chair disappeared beneath the spread of his buttocks, and Alex was surprised it could even take his weight. He was bald with a black mustache and several chins, each one melting into the next and finally into his neck and shoulders. He wore a pinstriped suit, which must have used enough material to make a tent.
    “Smithers,” he said, nodding at Alex. “Very nice to meet you, old chap.”
    “What have you got for him?” Mrs. Jones demanded.
    “I’m afraid we haven’t had a great deal of time, Mrs. J,” Smithers replied. “The challenge was to think what a fourteen-year-old might carry with him—and adapt it.” He picked the first object off the tray. A yo-yo. It was slightly larger than normal, black plastic. “Let’s start with this,” Smithers said.
    Alex shook his head. He couldn’t believe any of this. “Don’t tell me,” he exclaimed, “it’s some sort of secret weapon…”
    “Not exactly. I was told you weren’t to have weapons. You’re too young.”
    “So it’s not really a hand grenade? Pull the string and run like hell?”
    “Certainly not. It’s a yo-yo.” Smithers pulled out the string, holding it between a pudgy finger and thumb.
    “However, the string is a special sort of nylon. Very advanced. There’s thirty yards of it and it can lift weights of up to two hundred pounds. The actual yoyo is motorized and clips onto your belt. Very useful for climbing.”
    “Amazing.” Alex was unimpressed.
    “And then there’s this.” Mr. Smithers produced a small tube. Alex read the side: ZIT-CLEAN. FOR
    HEALTHIER SKIN. “Nothing personal,” Smithers went on, apologetically. “But we thought it was something a boy of your age might carry. And it is rather remarkable.” He opened the tube and squeezed some of the cream onto his finger. “Completely harmless when you touch it. But bring it into contact with metal and it’s quite another story.” He wiped his finger, smearing the cream onto the surface of the table.
    For a moment nothing happened. Then a wisp of acrid smoke twisted upward in the air, the metal sizzled, and a jagged hole appeared. “It’ll do that to just about any metal,” Smithers explained. “Very useful if you need to break through a lock.” He took out a handkerchief and wiped his finger clean.
    “Anything else?” Mrs. Jones asked.
    “Oh yes, Mrs. J. You could say this is our pièce de résistance.” He picked up a brightly colored box that Alex recognized at once as a Nintendo Color Game Boy. “What teenager would be complete without one of these?” he asked. “This one comes with four games. And the beauty of it is, each cartridge turns the computer into something quite different.”
    He showed Alex the first game. Nemesis. “If you insert this one, the computer becomes a fax/photocopier, which gives you direct contact with us and vice versa. Just pass the screen across any page you want to transmit and we’ll have it in seconds.”
    He produced a second game: Exocet. “This one turns the computer into an X-ray device. Place the machine against any solid surface less than two inches thick and watch the screen. It has an audio function too. You just have to plug in the earphones. Useful for eavesdropping. It’s not as powerful as I’d like, but we’re working on it.”
    The third game was called Speed Wars. “This one’s a bug finder,” Smithers explained. “You can use the computer to sweep a room and check if somebody’s trying to listen in on you. I suggest you use it the