The Case of the Exploding Loo by Rachel Hamilton Page B

huge discovery. And then he disappeared.
    Did LOSERS build their brain ray using the plans Fake Insurance Man stole? Or have they tortured the details out of Dad?
    I pick up the pen to fill in the electromagnetism worksheet. My hand shakes as I remember how I was tricked into calculating how to blow up a portaloo-sized box. Just because I
can
work
out how to do something, that doesn’t necessarily mean I
should.
I put the lid back on my pen and refuse to complete the worksheet.
    But it may be too late. What if Ms Grimm has already figured out how to use electromagnetic waves to alter IQ levels?

22
Breaking Rules
    Mr Kumar announces Porter is unwell and won’t be joining us for dinner. I’m desperate to leave the dining room and find him – partly to check he’s okay,
partly to keep my promise about updating him on the secret spy room, but mainly to escape yet another fish supper.
    Tonight’s fish has its head attached and the big, bulgy eye follows me all the way to top table, where Ms Grimm’s gobbling up her dinner, bulgy eyes and all.
    “I feel sick,” I say truthfully. “Can I lie down in the dorm?”
    Ms Grimm dribbles fish juice. I take that as a yes and I run from the dining room, gulping in non-fishy air. I find Porter lying on the sofa in the sitting room, reading a book called
Tracing Missing Persons
.
    He drops it when he sees me. “So? What did you find?”
    I describe the room behind the mirror with its still-warm chair, its computer files and its real-life brain ray. Porter listens closely, nodding as if it all makes perfect sense. His head shoots
up when I mention Gemma Gold.
    “Did you get copies of the files?”
    I pull my memory stick out my pocket and confess, “Only my own.
Fibonacci!
I should have copied yours too, shouldn’t I? Especially when you were the one doing the risky
stuff. Sorry, Porter, I wasn’t thinking and then I ran out of time.”
    “Don’t worry. It wasn’t
my
file I wanted. And there was no risk. My mother wouldn’t hurt me. I can’t believe she took my phone.”
    “I can’t believe she let you keep it in the first place. I’ve seen how seriously they take the no-phone rule here. No mobiles. No internet access. Only one call home a day and
you have to have a teacher in the room.”
    CLUE 30
    LOSERS are obsessed with blocking our access to the outside world.
    “Mother trusts . . . trusted me.” Porter squeezes the sofa cushion until his knuckles turn white. “And I trusted her. Also past tense. I can’t believe
she took my phone.”
    “If it’s so important to you, why were you waving it about in front of her?”
    “I was creating a distraction. I saw Mother take you into the Mental Conditioning Room and I didn’t want her to plug you into anything. There’s something wrong with that room.
A few kids come out super-bright. Others not so much . . .”
    “What do you mean?”
    Porter glances over his shoulder, even though we’re the only people in the room. “I’ve said too much already.”
    “You haven’t said anything,” I protest. “And you know what’s going on around here, don’t you?”
    “I thought I did.” Porter frowns. “I thought this was a money-making scam where Mother got geeks – no offence – to do complicated calculations for big businesses
and try out new products for weirdos like Kazinsky. But there’s something else going on. Something no one’s talking about. Something that makes people vanish.”
    “Do you mean Dad?”
    “Among others.” Porter scans the room, checking the exits. “We should listen to your file, Noelle. Who knows how long we’ve got before they come for us?”
    “But you haven’t explained . . .” I pause as the recording starts.
    “
Don’t let others drag you down. It’s not enough to have a good mind. The important thing is to use it. Nobody remembers who came in second. The first man
gets the oyster; the second man gets the shell . . .
    Whoa. This sounds familiar. I can see Porter