MC2 forces the door open and shakes Big Ben’s shoulders until GMT gives him the bull’s-eye. Big Ben’s eyes flick open. It takes him a second to realise it’s MC2 staring into his face, to go from 0 to 10, then he punches him and MC2 falls back onto the grass like he’s done the Fosbury Flop.

‘Big Ben,’ I say, ‘if you hit MC2 again you’ll get excluded from Leap 2048 and sent back to 2020 in disgrace.’

Big Ben gives me the glass-eye, jumps out of the car and hits MC2 again. MC2 tries to disappear but it doesn’t work. He holds up both hands.

‘I ain’t fightin’ you, bro. We gotta stick tight and save the Leaps.’

Big Ben faces him. ‘Are you her boyfriend? Youareyouare youareyouareyouare!’

I wonder if he has concussion from the car crash. You get concussion if you bang your head and it makes you talk nonsense. What’s Big Ben talking about? MC2 sits cross-legged on the ground and blinks.

‘Listen, man. She’s NOT my girl.’

‘Who?’ I say.

‘YOU, Elle. Man’s got it bad. The lovebug. Man needed to flex his biceps, show he’s vex. But man saw sense.’

And then I get it, like the answer to a crossword puzzle. I knew Big Ben liked me but didn’t realise that’s why he got so upset when I said anything nice about MC2.

‘So glad you’re OK,’ I say. ‘And guess what? We haven’t found Kwesi or Noon but we found the prize sheap.’

Big Ben isn’t impressed with the sheap. I think he wanted it to have two heads or the head of a Leapling and the body of a boy or vice versa. It stinks like a normal sheep.

‘It can think aloud, though,’ I say and Big Ben scrunches up his eyebrows.

‘Not logical.’

‘Listen! I can hear it muttering but it isn’t opening its mouth.’

‘Honeybee, it can’t—’ GMT does what-big-eyes. ‘That’s not the sheap. That’s voices!’

Everyone goes quiet. There are definitely voices. But where are they coming from? Has someone come into the building? No. The murmuring is under our feet. But how are we supposed to get underground? The only door is the one with the arrow leading upstairs. MC2 is already there.

‘Never was no Minus 2, unless . . .’ He looks to his right. On the door frame there’s a metal code lock. ‘Millennia was old skool with tech.’ He taps into it.

‘Spit!’

We crowd around him.

‘2000MM. 2048 code for storerooms. Ain’t cooperating.’

Big Ben pauses before he speaks. ‘They might’ve changed it to 2100.’

‘Maybe. Only the double M’s fixed.’ He taps the box. ‘No go. Leaps, THINK. What would Le Temps go for? When was he born?’

‘2008.’ Big Ben and I answer at the same time. Le Temps who is Pete LMS was born the same year as us.

It doesn’t work.