16
In the last twenty seconds, the laboratory room seems to have gotten much hotter. It’s probably just my temper at seeing how callous Felton was about Williamson’s death. Part of me would love to just conk old Felton on the head and grab his stuff, but he isn’t attacking me. Plus, I’m still trying to avoid physical confrontation, so I try to use my words this time.
“I have another question for you,” I say. I hadn’t noticed before, but there are loudspeakers in each corner of the room. They crackle to life with a low hum. For a moment, I wonder if someone’s going to make an announcement, but when nothing happens, I turn back to the task at hand. I tap Felton on the shoulder. “Question. You. Now.”
Felton doesn’t look up from his black ledger. “Shoot.”
“The black smoke… What does it do?
