Bernie gazed around as he and Ivy entered the garage.

As they made their way between the vehicles, Bernie was reminded of the hold on board the Mist Finder. His mind began to make connections, and a memory suddenly surfaced.

‘Hey,’ he said as they passed a ute. ‘When I was on board the ship, there was a drone in the hold area.’

‘What?’ Ivy stopped and looked at him sternly.

Bernie patted the side of the ute. ‘It was in the back of one of these. It rose into the air and flew around the hold before returning to the rear of the ute. I don’t think it had a logo. Hard to be sure because I wasn’t looking out for it.’

‘And why didn’t you mention this before?’ asked Ivy, with an accusatory glare.

‘Sorry,’ said Bernie. ‘I forgot until just now. The ute reminded me.’

‘Hmmm.’ Ivy screwed up her face in thought as they continued on to the damaged buggy they’d previously used. ‘The drones were smuggled on board the ship.’ She climbed into the driver’s seat and leaned on the steering wheel. ‘We really need that proof.’

‘What are you children doing here?’

Bernie started as he saw Professor Bolete standing by the outer door, hands on hips.

Bolete took a step forward, eyes squinting and blinking. ‘And what in the world have you done to that vehicle?

‘It was a rough ride when the drone was chasing us,’ said Ivy. ‘But, hey, since you don’t believe us, this damage must be imaginary as well.’

‘Ahhh.’ Bolete smirked, crossing his arms over his belly. ‘That is why you fabricated that drone story. To cover up for the damage you caused when taking your boyfriend here out for a joyride.’

‘She’s not my . . .’ began Bernie, but his voice trailed away at Ivy’s reaction.

‘Euw!’

Bernie felt a little hurt. Sure, she’d mentioned she had a girlfriend, but her reaction seemed rather harsh. Surely he was worth a better rating than euw?

‘Listen,’ said Ivy, teeth gritted. ‘We did not make up the drones. We did get chased. And the security of our research here has been compromised. And we’re going to prove it!’

‘Prove it?’ Bolete blinked a few times in quick succession as he uncrossed his arms and waggled a dismissive hand in their direction. ‘How could you possibly prove it, you silly girl?’

‘We know where to get some evidence,’ said Bernie.

‘Don’t waste time on him,’ said Ivy. ‘He doesn’t believe us ’cause he can’t think for himself. He only thinks what Dad wants him to think.’

‘I beg your pardon, mademoiselle,’ said Bolete, blinking again repeatedly. ‘You have no right to speak to me that way. I will have you know that I am the world’s foremost authority on fungi. I have written scientific dissertations upon their uses and pharmaceutical applications. I have collected and classified more spores and moulds than any other man in history. I have eaten a vast variety of mushrooms and truffles, including the poisonous ones, so as to document their negative effects upon human physiognomy. I have infected myself with, among other things, tinea, thrush and sporotrichosis to evaluate the progress of fungi upon and within the human body. And . . .’ He held up a finger, high above his head. ‘I have written a book of humorous fungal anecdotes. I am, you might say, a fun guy.’ He snorted at his own joke. ‘Get it? Fun guy! Fungi!’

Bernie watched this strange man with bafflement. Fun guy? That was a seriously bad joke.

A sound from outside made them all turn. Lea-Lea stood framed in the doorway, making a strange half growl.

Bolete backed away a couple of paces. ‘What is that sound it makes?’

‘Lea-Lea is not an it,’ said Ivy. ‘She’s a she. And I don’t think she likes you.’

‘Yes, well, the feeling is very much mutual.’ He eyed her warily. ‘This island would be more pleasant without all the animals. They disturb the mushrooms, you know.’

‘Want to come with us, girl?’ asked Ivy.

Lea-Lea made a happy chirruping sound, bobbing up and down on her hind legs.

‘Does Monsieur Meier know you are taking that boy into the jungle again?’ asked Bolete.

Ivy scowled in response.

‘I do not think you should be going out without his permission,’ said Bolete. ‘You are naughty, naughty children.’ He moved to stand in their way, but another growl from Lea-Lea made him back off.

‘Come on,’ said Ivy.

‘Maybe we should let your dad and my mum know before we go,’ suggested Bernie. He was beginning to worry about what trouble this latest plan might lead to.

‘Get in,’ ordered Ivy.

Bernie sighed and climbed into the passenger seat.

‘You can let Dad know that we’ve gone to get the proof he needs,’ Ivy said to Bolete, as they zoomed off.

‘Yes!’ they heard Bolete shouting behind them. ‘I will do that. Right now, in fact!’