Despite Holmes’s odd behavior, and despite the fact that Professor Pole’s program that simulated fires and explosions reminded Amanda of the Explosions! game Nick was so crazy about, she enjoyed the rest of the class and looked forward to the exercises the teacher had assigned. The students were not to try any more real-life experiments for the first few weeks of the class. Rather, they would simulate various types of disasters digitally, starting with the garage explosion and fire that had kicked off the class project last term. After that they would tackle electrical fires and gas explosions before moving on to dynamite and lightning fires. Professor Pole’s graphics were incredibly cool, but the real power of his program was in the physics and chemistry, which he’d worked on in consultation with experts around the world. Later on the kids would do lab experiments, but only if they achieved certain scores on the simulations and with strict safety protocols in place. Everyone was super excited, especially Simon, who started planning all sorts of weird conflagrations. He had some nutty idea about seeing if he could change Earth’s tilt so he could fix global warming. Amanda and Ivy were looking forward to seeing that.
“You can tease me all you want,” he said. “Glitter explosions in a beaker are nothing. The point of all this training is to solve big, important problems. If you must know, I wrote to that professor at UCLA over the break, the one who invented the microscope/cell phone apparatus we used to detect the sugar virus last term. I told him we used the lens from my glasses and it worked great. I asked him if he thinks that’s worth an academic paper, and I’m sure he’ll say yes.”
Simon and Professor Kindseth had discovered a way to turn a cell phone into a powerful microscope using an attachment manufactured on a 3D printer. The only catch had been that they didn’t have the proper lens for it, that is until they hit on the idea of using one from Simon’s coke bottle glasses. The microscope had worked beautifully, and they had discovered that the cook’s pink sugar was actually tainted with a destructive virus.
“That’s admirable,” said Amanda.
“I’ll say,” said Ivy. “I’m impressed.”
“I think it’s nuts,” said Amphora, invading their little circle. “You’re twelve. There’s no way you could publish a scientific paper. Fugeddaboutit.” She sounded silly trying to affect a Brooklyn accent with her posh London/Cambridge way of talking.
“I don’t care about your opinion, dodo,” said Simon. “You know, one day your frivolous behavior is going to come back to bite you. You should get a clue and grow up.”
“You’re a prat,” said Amphora. “I’m going to blow you up in my simulations. It will make the class so much more fun.”
“You know what, you two?” said Ivy. “You’re getting so predictable you’re boring me. I’ve had enough. Come on, Amanda.”
Ivy grabbed Amanda’s arm, pulled Nigel’s lead, and headed off toward the Holmes House common room. Amanda glanced behind her. Simon and Amphora were still arguing.
PROFESSOR REDLEAF’S SURPRISE
Amanda had never seen Ivy so edgy. She was normally the calmest person in the world, but something had rattled her. It couldn’t be Editta’s disappearance, which wasn’t even a disappearance yet. And it couldn’t be Simon and Amphora’s constant bickering because Ivy was used to that. What was up?
The two girls ducked into the Holmes House common room, which this day had been decorated to look like an airplane hangar. Amanda found it baffling. She didn’t know anything about planes, other than what she’d seen on the trip over from L.A., and she couldn’t figure out what she was looking at. Ivy dragged her over to a couch and practically threw her down. Nigel sat next to Amanda and let his tongue loll out.
“What’s going on?” Ivy demanded. She seemed more impatient than Amanda had ever seen her. Somehow her dark glasses made her look menacing when she was like that, which was weird considering that Ivy was less than five feet tall.
“Are you okay?” said Amanda, staring at her from this angle and that, trying to read her.
“No, I’m not okay. Something bad is going on around here and we have to find out what it is.” The reflection from her sunglasses flashed as she moved her head.
“You mean what I told you earlier? How do you know about that?” She leaned in and kept her voice low so their conversation would be private.
“How do I know about anything?” said Ivy too loudly. Amanda jumped back as if she’d been hit. “I’ve heard stuff. You know how good my hearing is.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Amanda tried lowering her voice again.
“There wasn’t time,” said Ivy softly, getting the message. “I know something is up with the teachers. They’re talking about catastrophe. We need to figure out what this is and fix it. They sound like they haven’t any idea what to do, and that worries me half to death.”
Amanda delivered the nutshell version of what she’d heard outside Thrillkill’s office. Ivy kept shaking her head. Nigel wagged his tail against her, whomp, whomp, whomp, and she scratched her leg. Between Ivy’s red hair and Nigel’s golden coat, they looked like life itself against the backdrop of the hangar. Amanda wondered what it would be like to have colored hair. Brown was okay, but it wasn’t very interesting.
“Yes, that confirms what I’ve been hearing,” said Ivy when Amanda had finished. “What worries me the most is that the teachers seem so disorganized. I’ve never seen them like this. Do you think Mavis is really going to escape? If she does, maybe she’ll break Blixus out of Strangeways too.”
“I don’t know,” said Amanda. “They’ve gone up against the Moriartys before. Why should this time be any different?” A thought struck her. Maybe losing Nick had made the criminals more desperate and dangerous. It probably wasn’t a good idea to raise the possibility, though. Everyone was sick to death of Nick, and every time she mentioned his name she felt like she was imposing.
“That’s what I can’t figure out,” said Ivy. “Unless they have whatever it is the teachers lost. Do you have any idea what it could be?”
“Not a clue.”
Amanda got up and started pacing, then remembered that she had to stay close to Ivy to keep anyone who walked in from hearing their conversation. She caught sight of the new clock Nick had hung up after breaking the old one, which had bothered Amanda with its loud ticking. Nick again. Why did everything have to remind her of him? If this kept up she’d do poorly in her classes. She had to exorcise him. Maybe she should learn to meditate. Or throw darts at his picture. Editta would probably have stuck pins in his effigy. Where was that girl anyway?
“Me either,” said Ivy. “We’re going to have to do it soon, though.”
“Yes. Maybe we should talk tonight.”
“Definitely. I’m a little worried about discussing all this in front of Amphora, though. She seems so distracted with all that fighting.”
“I know what you mean,” said Amanda. “She and Simon have gotten worse. Maybe they stored it all up over the break. Let’s meet somewhere we don’t usually go and she won’t look for us.”
“One of the labs?”
“How about the disguise room up on the top floor?” Amanda felt the most at home there. It was a theatrical place, full of costumes, wigs, makeup, and props. A filmmaker’s dream.
“Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Eight o’clock?”
“You’re on.”
Amanda Lester and the Pink Sugar Conspiracy Page 93
