“We don’t have any Technical Support,” said Professor Hilbert. “There’s only Brian.”

He helped Brian to sit up, which meant that Professor Hilbert was now technically supporting Technical Support.

“Guh—” said Brian.

“No, it’s not good,” said Professor Hilbert. “It’s not good at all.”

“Guh—” said Brian again.

“I think he may have bumped his head,” said Professor Hilbert. “He keeps saying that it’s good.”

“You mean that he’s bumped his head so hard he thinks good is bad?” said Professor Stefan. “We can’t have that. Next he’ll be going around killing chaps and asking for a round of applause as he presents us with their heads. He’ll make a terrible mess.”

Brian raised his right hand, and extended the index finger.

“It’s a guh—it’s a guh—it’s a guh—”

“What’s he doing now, Hilbert?”

“I think he’s rapping, Professor.”

“Oh, do make him stop. We’ll have no hip-hoppity music here. Awful racket. Now, opera, there’s—”

“IT’S. A. GHOST!” shrieked Brian.

Professor Hilbert noticed that Brian’s hair was standing on end, and his skin was covered in goose bumps. The atmosphere in the lab had also grown considerably colder. Professor Hilbert could see Brian’s breath. He could see his own breath. He could even see Professor Stefan’s breath. He could not, however, see the breath of the semitransparent young woman, dressed as a servant girl, who was standing in a corner and fiddling with something that was obvious only to her. Her image flickered slightly, as though it were being projected imperfectly from nearby.

Professor Hilbert stopped supporting Brian, who duly fell backward and would have banged his head painfully had not some Jammie Dodgers absorbed most of the impact.

“So it is,” said Professor Hilbert. “I say, it’s another ghost.”

Professor Stefan peered at the young woman over the top of his spectacles.

“A new one, too. Haven’t seen her before.”

Professor Hilbert carefully approached the ghost.

“Hello,” he said. He waved his hand in front of the ghost’s face, but she didn’t seem to notice. He considered his options, then poked at the woman’s ribs. His finger passed right through her.

“Bit rude,” said Professor Stefan disapprovingly. “You hardly know the girl.”

“Nothing,” said Professor Hilbert. “No response.”

“Just like the rest.”

“Indeed.”

Slowly, the image of the girl began to fade, until finally there was only a hint of vapor to indicate that she had ever been there at all, If, in fact, she had ever been there at all. Oh, she was certainly somewhere, of that Professor Hilbert was sure. He just wasn’t convinced that the somewhere in question was a laboratory in twenty-first-century Biddlecombe.

Brian had managed to struggle to his feet, and was now picking pieces of Jammie Dodger from his hair. He stared at the corner where the girl had been.

“I thought I saw a ghost,” he said.

“Yes,” said Professor Hilbert. “Well done, you. And on only your second day, too. You can’t go around fainting every time you see one, though. You’ll end up on the floor more often than you’re upright if you do.”