Thomas leaned over the glass, its top beaded with drops of water, and looked over at Newt. His friend’s face was illuminated by the green light, and for a moment he looked sick. Thomas shook the thought away. ‘We probably shouldn’t mess with this,’ Newt said, looking up from the vat. ‘Looks bloody radioactive to me. We could wake up with three extra fingers and one less eye in the morning.’
