Читать книгу The Orb of Kandra - Морган Райс, Morgan Rice - Страница 13

Harvard University was an impressive-looking place. The architecture was beautiful, with lots of tall red brick buildings and turrets. There was a large grassy yard, surrounded by cafes, bars, and bookstores.

“How will we find Professor Nightingale?” Esther asked. “This place is huge!”

Oliver fetched the book Ms. Belfry had given him. He turned to the author bio on Professor Nightingale and read aloud.

“Professor H. Nightingale is a fellow of Harvard University’s Physics Department, where he conducts experiments in the Science Center’s historic Farnworth Laboratory, along with his small team of brilliant PhD students.”

Esther pointed ahead to a building on the other side of the yard. “There. That’s the Science Center.”

Oliver put the book away. They hurried across the grass and headed up the steps toward the building. Standing at the top was a security guard.

“Visitor ID?” he said brusquely, holding out his palm.

“Visitor ID?” Oliver repeated. He started to pat his overalls pocket. “Oh… hmmm. Now where did I put that?”

“Here!” Esther suddenly said.

Oliver watched as she took something from her pocket and handed it to the guard. He realized she must have used her powers to alter something to look like a pass. He hoped she’d done a convincing enough job.

But the guard looked at it with an unimpressed expression before handing it back to her.

“A real one, missy,” he said. He sounded very bored, like a couple of kids trying to sneak into a library was little more than an inconvenience to him. “Not this fake thing.”

Oliver racked his brains. Esther’s attempt to create a credible-looking ID card had failed. He’d have to think of another plan.

He glanced about for inspiration and saw a trash can just the other side of the steps. Quickly, he used his powers to make smoke come from it.

“Oh no! I think the trash can is on fire!” he cried.

The guard quickly ran to attend to it. Oliver and Esther took their chance and ducked inside the building.

“Good thinking,” Esther said as they hurried through the corridor.

It was a bit like a maze inside. It reminded Oliver of a hospital rather than a laboratory, other than the strange chemical smell, of course.

They stopped beside a sign that showed which floor each of the different disciplines occupied.

“Physics Department,” Oliver said, pointing. “Top floor.”

They trudged up the staircase. A long corridor stretched ahead of them. Gold plaques with the names of professors and lecturers were affixed to each door. They began to walk along the corridor, reading the names.

“Here he is,” Esther said.

Oliver turned to see her standing by a door. Professor H. Nightingale. His heart began to race. Was he about to get the answers to his questions?

Oliver swallowed his nerves and knocked.

Nothing happened. It remained completely silent. He tried again.

Again, there was no answer. Oliver looked over at Esther. She shrugged and boldly tried the handle.

“It’s not locked,” she told him.

She pushed the door and it swung all the way open. The room was completely empty.

Oliver gasped. “Oh no. He must not be here anymore.” He felt a horrible leaden sensation in his stomach as disappointment gripped him.

“Don’t worry,” Esther said. “We’ll track him down.”

In the corridor behind them, a professor was walking past. Esther turned.

“Excuse me. Do you know where we might find Professor Nightingale?” She pointed to the plaque on the door.

The man didn’t even slow his brisk pace. But he did reply, speaking over his shoulder as he hurried onward. “Nightingale? He hasn’t worked here for years. Not since he was kicked out.”