‘This is my son, Jake. Don’t worry, he has clearance’ ‘Looks like you, poor kid.’ The scientist gave Jake’s dad a friendly clap on the back. ‘Come into my office.’ They followed Rick through into his ‘office’, which resembled something out of CSI: Miami. Everything was pristine stainless steel. Three huge computer screens hung side by side, one switched off, the other reeling data in some kind of code and the other displaying a complex line graph. Jake recognised all the normal equipment from the science labs at school – a centrifuge, microscopes, test tubes and pipettes. Jars of chemicals were arranged on shelves. ‘To what misfortune do I owe this visit?’ Rick asked. Up close, Jake saw dark smudges under his eyes. The guy was like a zombie. Jake assumed it was from the lack of natural light, and sleep probably. ‘We need a chemical profile on this liquid,’ Jake’s dad said. Jake fished out three bottles of different Olympic Edge flavours and held them out to the scientist.
