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Authors: Bruno Bouchet
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at Nathaniel and then moved her finger round to the door of the principal’s office.
‘You two.’ She pointed at Jonty and Prune and directed them into her office. They were to wait there.
Nathaniel held his breath. This was not part of the plan. They had thought they would all face the principal together. Causing havoc in the classroom had been fun, but now he was in trouble with the principal for the first time in his life.
Jonty could see how scared his was. ‘Shout if you need help,’ he said. ‘I’ll kick the door down if I have to.’
‘You will do no such thing!’ barked the principal’s assistant.
Jonty and Prune sat down in her office. She closed the door to stop them seeing the corridor outside. She sat down at her desk and began to type furiously on her keyboard, while staring at a piece of paper in front of her.
Nathaniel knocked on the principal’s door. It swung open straightaway. Mr Foster had been waiting on the other side.
‘Nathaniel! What an unexpected pleasure,’ he said and led him into the room. It was light with windows on three walls so Mr Foster could view the entire playground. He sat on the edge of his desk and pointed to a chair directly in front of him. The padded seat was covered in dusty orange fabric that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years.
Mr Foster stared at him through his rimless glasses. Nathaniel looked at the ground, trying to avoid the huge bushy eyebrows curling over the top of the glasses.
‘I imagine you are wondering why you are not top of the class anymore,’ Mr Foster said.
Nathaniel looked up.
‘That nonsense in the classroom is sort of thing that happens when someone as intelligent as you gets bored. Teachers, they don’t know what to dowith truly intelligent children.’ He said the word ‘teachers’ as if he hated them.
‘But they’re all so intelligent, so horribly intelligent. It’s impossible to learn so much,’ Nathaniel said.
Mr Foster laughed. ‘Clearly not. The evidence is there. Would you like to be as clever as Boris Brockman? Would you like brilliant ideas to dance through your mind? Book after book absorbed and learnt in seconds? Remember the thrill you used to feel learning something new? The explosion of understanding in your mind? Imagine having that every waking second of your day.’
Nathaniel stared at him. This was the last thing he had expected. It was like Mr Foster really knew him, understood exactly what he had been going through. ‘But how?’ he asked.
‘Oh it’s quite easy. This.’ Mr Foster held out a small green pill in the palm of his hand.
‘A pill?’ Nathaniel couldn’t believe it.
‘Take this and your superior brain will rocket ahead of the others. There will be no end to your learning. Speak a new language within a week, virtually on your own. Imagine never needing a teacher again.’
‘Is this what’s changed everyone,’ Nathaniel asked. ‘A pill?’
‘I’m afraid your parents did not consent to yougoing onto my program. But I think you should make your own mind up.’
‘So everyone else agreed? Everyone’s parents let them take these?’
‘Of course, young Prune’s parents probably forgot to sign her form and I imagine Jonty Townsend lost his form on the way home.’
‘Just a pill?’ Nathaniel still couldn’t believe it. He had expected a massive brain-transplanting machine.
‘Yes!’ Mr Foster snapped. ‘This pill is the greatest single advance in human education since we learnt to speak! It has taken years of careful research, and extremely hard work.’ He stopped himself before he said too much. He gave Nathaniel a sickly fake smile. ‘Hold it!’ He extended his hand.
Nathaniel picked up the pill and held it close to his eye. It looked harmless. How intelligent he would be! It had transformed Boris Brockman’s dull brain into something amazing. What would it do to
his
brain? He would surge ahead of the whole school. He could get across all the books they
‘You two.’ She pointed at Jonty and Prune and directed them into her office. They were to wait there.
Nathaniel held his breath. This was not part of the plan. They had thought they would all face the principal together. Causing havoc in the classroom had been fun, but now he was in trouble with the principal for the first time in his life.
Jonty could see how scared his was. ‘Shout if you need help,’ he said. ‘I’ll kick the door down if I have to.’
‘You will do no such thing!’ barked the principal’s assistant.
Jonty and Prune sat down in her office. She closed the door to stop them seeing the corridor outside. She sat down at her desk and began to type furiously on her keyboard, while staring at a piece of paper in front of her.
Nathaniel knocked on the principal’s door. It swung open straightaway. Mr Foster had been waiting on the other side.
‘Nathaniel! What an unexpected pleasure,’ he said and led him into the room. It was light with windows on three walls so Mr Foster could view the entire playground. He sat on the edge of his desk and pointed to a chair directly in front of him. The padded seat was covered in dusty orange fabric that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years.
Mr Foster stared at him through his rimless glasses. Nathaniel looked at the ground, trying to avoid the huge bushy eyebrows curling over the top of the glasses.
‘I imagine you are wondering why you are not top of the class anymore,’ Mr Foster said.
Nathaniel looked up.
‘That nonsense in the classroom is sort of thing that happens when someone as intelligent as you gets bored. Teachers, they don’t know what to dowith truly intelligent children.’ He said the word ‘teachers’ as if he hated them.
‘But they’re all so intelligent, so horribly intelligent. It’s impossible to learn so much,’ Nathaniel said.
Mr Foster laughed. ‘Clearly not. The evidence is there. Would you like to be as clever as Boris Brockman? Would you like brilliant ideas to dance through your mind? Book after book absorbed and learnt in seconds? Remember the thrill you used to feel learning something new? The explosion of understanding in your mind? Imagine having that every waking second of your day.’
Nathaniel stared at him. This was the last thing he had expected. It was like Mr Foster really knew him, understood exactly what he had been going through. ‘But how?’ he asked.
‘Oh it’s quite easy. This.’ Mr Foster held out a small green pill in the palm of his hand.
‘A pill?’ Nathaniel couldn’t believe it.
‘Take this and your superior brain will rocket ahead of the others. There will be no end to your learning. Speak a new language within a week, virtually on your own. Imagine never needing a teacher again.’
‘Is this what’s changed everyone,’ Nathaniel asked. ‘A pill?’
‘I’m afraid your parents did not consent to yougoing onto my program. But I think you should make your own mind up.’
‘So everyone else agreed? Everyone’s parents let them take these?’
‘Of course, young Prune’s parents probably forgot to sign her form and I imagine Jonty Townsend lost his form on the way home.’
‘Just a pill?’ Nathaniel still couldn’t believe it. He had expected a massive brain-transplanting machine.
‘Yes!’ Mr Foster snapped. ‘This pill is the greatest single advance in human education since we learnt to speak! It has taken years of careful research, and extremely hard work.’ He stopped himself before he said too much. He gave Nathaniel a sickly fake smile. ‘Hold it!’ He extended his hand.
Nathaniel picked up the pill and held it close to his eye. It looked harmless. How intelligent he would be! It had transformed Boris Brockman’s dull brain into something amazing. What would it do to
his
brain? He would surge ahead of the whole school. He could get across all the books they
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