"Where is it? Where is the anti-matter?" Tuppence raved, thrashing his head from side to side.
It was no use. Geoffrey and I had administered doses of sal volatile that would have floored a horse (and we should know - we tried it on Titus) and he was still running a temperature to rival the solar wind. Which, as most folk know, is so hot that the sun's gravity cannot hold on to it. Actually, it's the sun's corona which is the hot bit, and the winds...anyway, I'm digressing.
"You must find Tom and Jack! ask them what it was like, to stare into the abyss - to stare at anti-matter, mano a mano, and survive! find them! find the Alexander Brothers!" And he fell back on to his pillows, exhausted.
Yikes. I think I read somewhere they're due to do a gig at the Hadron Collider.
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