The Kid Who Came From Space
Page 17
Of course, she doesn’t actually say ‘blah blah’. It’s just that after a couple of sentences that’s what it sounds like. And I like all that stuff. I love reading about the International Space Station, and the moon landings when Gran was young … Only, I am just beginning to realise what has happened. It doesn’t ‘dawn on me slowly’ as I understand what is going on. No, it is much, much more rapid.
I begin to breathe shallowly – short pants that seem to leave me breathless – and I am unable to speak.
‘You appear to be panicking,’ says Hellyann. ‘A human, emotional response to sicknificant trauma—’
That does it. ‘Hellyann!’ I yell through my gasps. ‘What is going on? I can’t see anything! I can’t even …’ And I start sobbing. ‘Let me go! Let me free!’
I wriggle and struggle against the straps that bind my chest and arms and legs. It is a horrible sensation, made worse by the grey half-light which floods the cabin from some source that I cannot see.
‘Please be calmer,’ says Hellyann. ‘I will activate the kravity simulator.’ Then she says something in her language.
I feel the heaviness return to my legs and that lurch in my stomach again; then the straps that are holding me unfasten and retract and I can stand up. I move my arms; I lift a foot and stamp it down again.
Iggy’s straps have come free too, and he opens his eyes, looking dazed, but he says nothing.
With another command from Hellyann, the walls enclosing us clear like a fog and I am staring at stars – endless brilliant pinpricks of light stretching to, well … to infinity, I suppose.
Gradually, my breathing returns to normal (ish), though Iggy still hasn’t said anything.
I try to take stock of where we are.
He and I are inside the cockpit of Hellyann’s spaceship. That much is clear.
It is about three metres from side to side and the same from floor to roof. There are hardly any control panels – no flashing lights, or computer screens, or endless dials; there are no levers or coloured buttons. I’m not even in a spacesuit. I stretch out my hand to touch the … what? The window? It feels cool and smooth.
And then I see it. We both see it, and Iggy says his first words in space.
‘Oh my word!’ he gasps. ‘Is … is that …?’
‘Yes, Ikk-ee. That is Earth.’
A huge and brilliant ball glides into view at the bottom of the domed window. It is exactly how it looks in the pictures I have seen on TV. I can make out the blues of the oceans, and patches of green, and the golden lights of the cities …
‘The blue planet,’ I say. It’s a while before I can add: ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’
‘If you say so,’ says Hellyann. ‘I am propaply not the one to ask.’
I kind of want to ask why, but I am transfixed. It’s also just one of about a trillion questions that I want to ask her and I don’t know where to begin. So I start with the one that is uppermost in my mind. I say it slowly, as I cannot seem to take my eyes off the Earth below us.
‘Hellyann? Will … will I see Tammy again?’
‘That is highly likely.’
I close my eyes and try to imagine saying something clever and emotional when I see her, but I can’t think further than ‘Hi, Tam’. I smile – ‘Hi, Tam’ will have to do.
‘And, Hellyann …?’
‘Yes, Ethan?’
‘Will we see our mum and dad again?’
‘That tepends.’
‘Depends? Depends on what?’
She does not answer. Instead she says, ‘The kravity simulator is going off, and we are about to start our chourney.’
The dome mists over again, and we’re back in the grey light as the straps snake out again and tighten gently around me. Hellyann growls some more commands at the craft, which trembles slightly.
‘Hellyann?’ says Iggy. ‘Should I be scared?’
‘Are you scared when you get on your picycle?’
‘My bike? No, of course not.’
‘To us, this craft is about as complicated as a picycle is to you. So no. To not be scared. Although you may experience slight drowsiness or even unconsciousness akain.’
The American voice comes on again. ‘I think what Hellyann is trying to say is that the craft itself is pretty basic. The operating system, however, is anything but.’
‘You are right, Philip. No offence intended.’
‘Fair enough,’ comes the reply, sounding rather huffy. ‘None taken.’
If what Hellyann says was meant to be reassuring, it is not. I am terrified.
But then the craft trembles even more and I feel the horrible prickling sensation return to my skin and everything goes black.
Some time later – hours, I think, not days – I open my eyes again. I look next to me at Iggy. He is staring straight ahead at nothing – his eyes are glazed and his lips are moving slightly, as though he is trying to speak but cannot remember how.
I recognise the feeling. I am, quite literally, speechless.
‘Hi. This is your captain again. Kindly keep your seat belts fastened until the seat-belt light goes out, and may I remind you that there is no smoking permitted anywhere in the aircraft.’
Hellyann says, ‘Philip. Not now.’ She says it in English.
The voice responds, ‘Just tryna lighten the mood. We got a long way to go. Snacks will be served from our trolley, and a selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages is available. We will be cruising at an altitude—’
‘Philip! Stop it.’ Hellyann follows this up with a command in her own language.
The voice stops, and a tiny overhead light that I had not noticed before fades out.
Iggy says, ‘Who was that?’
Hellyann sighs. ‘That is Philip. The bot that pilots this craft. He’s … annoying. We do not really unterstand humour where I am from.’
We are silent for a moment or two, and I try to go over recent events in my head. Finding Hellyann imprisoned in the shed; Gran’s brave run into the woods pursued by big Geoff; running from the RAF officers; breaking into the boathouse; hiding in the spaceship … taking off?
It occurs to me that perhaps we have not taken off at all. It was thinking of the roller coaster at Alton Towers that did it for me. There was another ride there that Tammy and I went on twice, the Devil Train. You didn’t actually move, but you watched a film taken from the front of a real roller coaster, and the seat wobbled, and your mind did all of the rest. It tricked you into thinking you were moving. And the more I think about it, the more convinced I become.
This is all an elaborate hoax.
I say, ‘I’ve had enough of this now, Hellyann. I want to get out. Please just open the door. We can explain everything to the people there. They will trust us, and … and no harm will come to you.’
Hellyann says, ‘Why do you say this?’ Her usual monotone sounds a little bit more anxious, which makes me even more certain that I have uncovered her trick.
‘Because I’m scared, Hellyann, and I want this to stop.’
‘Do you want to ket your sister back?’
‘Well, yes, but—’
‘I thought you would be grateful,’ Hellyann snaps, following it with a burst of her own language, forcing Iggy to pipe up.
‘Look, can you stop doing that, please? You have kidnapped us, so far as I can tell, and we only have your word that our fate will not be exactly the same as Tammy’s. Why should we trust you?’
Hellyann looks between us, wide-eyed with what might be horror.
‘But I haf told you that you will be safe,’ she says. ‘I haf told you that Tammy—’
‘Big deal,’ Iggy interrupts. ‘Big, fat deal. You could be lying. You could have been lying since the day we met you. You could be—’
‘But I do not lie. I … I find it very hart to lie. We do not really know how to.’
‘And that,’ says Iggy with a decisive nod, ‘could easily be a lie.’
‘No,’ comes the cockpit’s v
oice, ‘she is telling the truth. Hellyann and everyone like her has a very limited capacity for deception. I, for example, am a much better liar than Hellyann.’
‘B … but you’re not real,’ says Iggy.
‘If I wanted to, I could do a long pause now to indicate that you have hurt my feelings. Indeed, I am not made, as you say, from flesh and blood. But my ability to tell untruths is as good as yours – probably better, in fact. After all, I have learned from the best.’
‘Who is that?’
‘Why, human beings, of course. Now strap yourselves in, fold away your trays, and please ensure that any domestic fowl are securely stored in the overhead lockers as we reach cruising altitude. Cabin crew, doors to manual and cross-check.’
The noise in the cockpit increases slightly and I detect a change in movement.
Hellyann says to me, ‘It is just Philip. He likes to try to be funny. He has picked up a lot of Earth phrases.’
‘Hilarious,’ says Iggy.
‘Thank you,’ says Philip.
‘I was being sarcastic.’
‘Ah, yes. Saying the opposite of what you mean for the purposes of humour or mockery. That is a tricky one for me.’
The screen before us clears and Iggy and I look at the vast, glowing blue-white ball beneath us.
‘Doesn’t look like we’ve gone very far—’ begins Iggy.
‘That iss not Earth,’ says Hellyann. ‘Philip?’
Philip’s light comes on and his voice follows. ‘You are looking, my friends, at our home planet. It is called …’ Here he makes a noise as though he is singing two notes while gargling.
Iggy says, ‘Anthalla?’ And Philip repeats it.
‘That will have to do. Anthalla. It is a planet very like Earth in many respects. Similar temperature, similar gravity, similar atmosphere: you can breathe, walk and so on. There is much less land, much more water and no moon. Population stable at fourteen million; average lifespan twenty-eight years; inhabitants virtually disease-free; hunger and violent death non-existent; the last war was fought about seven hundred years ago; and an entire civilisation rebuilt from the ashes of the Big Burn. Any questions?’
It is more of a statement, actually – Philip doesn’t wait for us to ask anything. Instead he carries on: ‘Landing approach in two minutes. Visual Inhibitors fully operative. Please extinguish all cigarettes and have your tickets ready for inspection.’
The screen goes black again, and the pitch of the engine changes.
‘I do have a question as a matter of fact,’ says Iggy. ‘Why are you activating the Visual Inhibitors? I mean, that makes us undetectable, yes? Why the secrecy?’
I have to hand it to Iggy – he asks cleverer questions than I do.
There is a long pause before Hellyann says, ‘Because this is a secret mission.’
Philip says, ‘If I were you, I would have lied, Hellyann. No need to alarm them unnecessarily.’
But now, of course, I am alarmed. ‘Are we in danger?’
Philip says, ‘Oh no.’
At the same time, Hellyann says, ‘Oh yes.’
At least I know now who to believe.
We are in no danger so long as everything goes to plan.
Correction: the danger is minimised if everything goes to plan. The problem is, however, that I do not have one. A plan, that is. We – Philip and I – appear to be making a habit of leaving planets suddenly with no clear idea of what will happen next.
‘Philip?’
‘Broadsword calling Danny Boy. Are you receiving me?’
I speak to Philip in my own language so as not to alarm my human passengers. They are looking out of the craft, mesmerised by the glowing planet gliding beneath us.
‘Where will we land, Philip?’
‘There is nowhere completely safe, Hellyann. My re-entry parameters are set to land exactly where we took off. This carries an obvious risk of detection. On the other hand, it is exactly what would NOT be expected.’
‘That sounds promising,’ I say.
‘It does. Only one snag: the Assistant Advisors will be expecting me to do what is not expected.’
‘So we should not do that, then.’
‘On the contrary. That is exactly what we should do. The AAs will have anticipated that a bot such as I would be able to predict their expectations and so we should not do the very opposite of what they expect us not to do, which amounts to not doing what they expect.’
‘Wait,’ I say. ‘Can you say that again?’
‘No. We need to go now. The Earth girl you are seeking is due for presentation at Earth Zone today.’
I take a deep breath. ‘Very well, Philip. Proceed.’
Here is what we will do then:
Philip and I will land with our Earthly cargo (plus a chicken, which I had not expected). We will land where we took off three days ago. Philip’s VI systems are rather basic (by our standards) and we can only hope that our re-entry will not be noticed. If it is, we may be intercepted and that could get very awkward.
If Philip and I have timed this right (and so far, I think we have) the Earth boys and I will proceed immediately to Earth Zone.
We will then save Tammy, and fly her back to Earth.
I am a little unclear how we will actually carry out that last part.
We are high, high above the grey-brown earth.
Hellyann finishes talking with Philip and says, ‘We are ready to land. We shall be making a rapid, vertical descent straight down to our landing target. Such a descent increases the risk of collision with other airborne vehicles, but decreases the risk of detection. Hold tight. Philip, go.’
‘Hang on to your hollyhocks, folks,’ says Philip. ‘But do not be alarmed. I usually get this right.’
‘Usually?’ I say, but then I realise he is joking, and besides all the breath is sucked out of me as we start to fall.
I glance over at Iggy, who is gripping Suzy tighter than is probably good for her, and it’s only when she squeaks a little in protest that he relaxes and returns my terrified look.
We are descending faster than we would fall, lower and lower, with the whine of the craft’s power getting higher and higher. My ears are popping like mad with the change in pressure. Outside the screen the land is getting closer – I can make out a coastline and water, then some squarish, flat things that might be buildings, and dark shapes travelling fast in the sky.
When it looks as though there is no way we will stop in time, I think I just give up, resigning myself to whatever will happen. I certainly don’t think I’ll survive and, for a few seconds, I think, Well, this is an odd way to die …
And then it’s dark, and I’m being pulled upwards from my seat with the force of Philip slowing down the craft.
We have stopped. I am still strapped into my seat, alive and panting hard.
Hellyann says something to Philip, and they have a brief, rapid exchange of words. Even though I can’t understand it, I can pick up on the tension in her voice.
‘What’s happening?’ I say. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘No,’ she replies. ‘Everything is definitely not OK.’
‘Come quickly,’ says Hellyann after a moment, ushering us out of the opened side with her hand. ‘Philip has intercepted signals from the Hunters. They are on their way.’
Hunters? I think.
But Hellyann is beckoning us urgently.
Iggy goes first but I’m still struggling with a strap which has got tangled with something behind me. Suzy is cowering beneath my seat.
Through the front screen, I see Hellyann and Iggy move stealthily across the floor of a large cavern lit with huge candles.
‘Wait!’ I call.
Then Hellyann stops, and she turns back, her eyes wide with alarm, and she shouts something as two hairy creatures, a bit like her but bigger, step out of the shadows.
‘Philip!’ I say. ‘I’m stuck—’
I have not finished speaking, when the side door slides shut, and Philip
says, ‘Be quiet.’
I can hear that the group outside the spaceship are talking in animated, loud voices, but of course I cannot understand what they are saying.
Then, to my horror, the two hairy creatures who were in the shadows step forward. One of them is holding a black stick with which they touch both Hellyann and Iggy. My friends instantly buckle at the knees and are supported by their attackers to stop them falling to the ground.
One of the creatures looks familiar. It has a dark streak of hair running from the centre of its head …
I think back to the Australian web page I looked at. The creature matches the drawing exactly, and a chill of fear grips my throat.
From behind the spacecraft, another creature comes, pushing a kind of trolley, a bit like the ones you get in hospitals, only it is a double-decker. They pick up Hellyann and lay her on the bottom section, with Iggy laid out on the top.
‘Philip,’ I hiss, ‘what is going on?’
In reply, Philip murmurs, ‘I miscalculated. The risk was obviously greater than I anticipated. They have been waiting for us to return.’
And all I can do is watch in terror. Hellyann and Iggy on the trolley are pushed by the other hairy creatures from the large cavern down a dark corridor and out of sight. Only then do I finally struggle free from the strap that has been restricting me – and which, I realise, has saved me from the same fate. If I had stepped out at the same time as Iggy did then I too, surely, would now be on a trolley, unconscious.
I leap to my feet, bewildered, panicking.
‘Philip! Philip!’ I whisper, struggling to keep my voice steady. ‘What … where … what’s going on?’
‘This is bad, Ethan. There is no other way of saying it.’ His voice is low and grave.
‘I gathered that. What’s happened? Did you understand?’
‘Yes, I understood perfectly. The good news, as far as you are concerned, is that you are safe. I don’t think anyone knows you are here.’
My breathing is shallow and I feel light-headed with anxiety. I don’t feel that this is good news. ‘Just tell me what has happened, Philip. Please.’