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very tiny creatures called microbes, or germs, invade the body and cause us to get sick.” Isabelle shrugged. “I would hardly know about that. What I do know is that Mr. Pasteur has already saved thousands of people’s lives by simply making sure the milk is safe to drink.”
    Jake stared at the modest- looking man in his fifties greeting people in the Chemistry aisle. Noting how Mr. Pasteur held his left arm at an odd angle and limped a bit, Jake was stunned.
    “He’s partly paralyzed,” he mu rmured, glancing at Isabelle. “So would Mr. Pasteur be considered Unfit, too, then?”
    “ He very well might. Heavens, even Thomas Edison might not have made the cut, judging by his boyhood. Everyone knows he failed out of school and had to be taught at home by his mother. Plus, Mr. Edison is somewhat deaf in both ears, so, yes, I daresay Dr. Galton might’ve tossed him in the trash, too.” She shook her head. “I just hope that when my brother grows up, he will choose wisely about which sort of scientist he wants to be.”
    “You look pale. Are you feeling all right?” Dani asked, taking Isabelle’s elbow in concern.
    She gave her a grateful smile. “Actually, being around Dr. Galton has given me rather a headache. I could use some air.”
    “ Come on, we’ll step outside. I’ll go with you,” Dani murmured, looking deeply upset by Isabelle’s revelations. “Jake, do you want to come along?”
    “ I think I’ll go find Archie,” he replied. “Have a word with him about his admiration for the Prince of the Polymaths.”
    “Good idea.” Isabelle nod ded. “He’ll listen to you more than he ever listens to me.”
    “Surely Archie doesn’t agree wit h Galton’s madness?” Dani exclaimed as they turned to go.
    “No, it’s not that. You know Archie,” Isabelle said. “He just wants to get along with everyone. He makes a lot of excuses for his fellow scientists and falls into the trap, I think, of allowing them to ignore questions of right and wrong in their experiments for the sake of science.”
    Experiments like, oh, reanimating corpses? Jake wondered wryly, recalling Doctor Frankenstein’s dancing dead man. Bloody unnatural.
    “I believe the day will come when Archie will have to make a choice and speak out among his colleagues to warn them when they’re going too far. At least they might listen to him.”
    Jake nodd ed, taking it all in. “Feel better soon, Izzy,” he offered.
    She cast him a wan smile, then she and Dani left the Exhibit Hall.
    Jake, troubled by all he’d heard, turned to look for Archie. As he sauntered back the way he had come, he passed Dr. Galton once more, busy in his booth spreading his warped ideas to more of his fellow scientists. Too bad the man had not stuck to dog whistles and mathematics.
    Wh en his stomach rumbled again, Jake glanced down at his pocket watch, wondering how much longer it would be before the Welcome Dinner. He was starved.
    But just as he lifted his head again, slipping his watch back into his vest pocket, he glanced up to find a towering, high-wheeled bicycle barreling straight toward him down the aisle.
    “Watch out! Move! Move! Out of my way!” the bicyclist yelled, gesturing him aside.
    Jake leaped clear just in time to avoid being flattened. The high-wheeler passed so close that the breeze from its spokes fanned his face; its front wheel was nearly as tall as he was.
    The lunatic rider zoomed past: a long, lanky man leaning over the handlebars and working the pedals with maniacal speed.
    With his opera cloak flapping out behind him, he was humming that famous new song, “The Ride of the Valkyries.”
    Jake recognized it because he had heard it in London only a week ago, when Great-Great Aunt Ramona had dragged him to the opera for the first time. The tempestuous brass-and-cymbals of the famous Norse-themed song had made quite an impression on him, not the least because the orchestra had played it twice that night—the second time, as an