“Do you believe him, Sir?”
“It’s like the parallel universes,” answered Mr Whitehouse.
I was disappointed. “You don’t believe him?”
He smiled. “No, some of us do.”
I was pleased.
Mr Whitehouse gave me a lift home in his Ford electro-hybrid car. I hated using the electro buses late. The electric motors hummed quietly beneath the bonnet. I discovered that his first name was Simon, though I promised not to call him that in class. He was a bachelor who was dedicated to his career in teaching. It was his life. We were his family. I felt rather proud to be a member of his family. We chatted about cool things such as rock music, modern art, walking between parallel universes and comets. Then we exchanged vid phone numbers. I’d found a new friend, and he was a ‘believer’ too.
Daddy was sorting through some star charts on his desk by the computer in the attic. I was still in my school uniform.
He looked around puzzled. “Mr Whitehouse?”
“I hope you don’t mind, Daddy?” I asked with a smile. “He’s my science teacher.”
“No, I don’t mind.”
I paused before I went down. “He’s a believer too.”
He shook his head amused.
It was late.
I stuck the birthday wish note on Wendy’s bedroom door. I was startled when Wendy tapped me on the shoulder. She removed the wish note. She read it briefly. She slipped it into her dressing gown pocket before she vanished into her room. It was an improvement. She normally screws up my notes and throws them at my head. Her bedroom door opened a fraction a moment later. The screwed up note flew out of the gap, hitting me on the head. As she shut the door again, giggling, I poked my tongue out.
As soon as I entered my room, I booted up my ‘Windows 2015’ computer. I glanced at the web cam as I punched in his private email address on the International Space Platform. As I waited for the connection, I undressed. I put on a faded, rock print top as I sat in front of the computer. Doctor Newton’s tanned face appeared in a window in the corner of my screen.
He smiled. “Hello, good evening, Jade. What can I do for you tonight?”
“Doctor Newton, do you believe in parallel universes?”
He laughed.
I carefully opened the bedroom door and looked in. My eyes adjusted to the gloom of early morning. The curtains remained drawn. Her perfume lingered. Although she couldn’t afford it, she wore Chanel. The covers had slipped away, revealing that Wendy was sleeping in her satin pyjamas. I entered silently and covered her. I blew her a kiss before I crept out of her room again.
I stood by the window waiting.
As I opened the front door, the paperboy standing on our doorstep wore a silly smirk behind his designer shades. It quickly vanished when he saw me standing there in my dressing gown over my satin pyjamas instead. It was a warm morning, so I didn’t catch a cold. I took the paper from him. Close up, he wasn’t very good looking at all. Worse, he had ZITS! How could my beautiful sister have kissed a guy with ZITS? It was gross and more than ZOOTWOSOME!
“That’s a nice scooter you’ve got there,” I commented, making small talk. “What make is it?”
“The Electro Scoot MK2,” answered the paperboy proudly.
“Can I ride it?” I asked with a sweet smile on my face.
“No.”
“Go on.”
He frowned. “No.”
“I caught you snogging my sister on the doorstep the other day,” I disclosed airily.
He remained impassive. “So?”
“If I told my dad-”
“So?”
If he used that word one more time, I was going to PUNCH HIS LIGHTS OUT! He noticed the dark look in my eyes, and he glanced at my fist. I knew what he was thinking. Would it hurt if a little girl standing just 8 centimetres from my face hit me very hard? Yes, it would, he decided.
The paperboy looked irritated. He wasn‘t so cool after all. He wasn‘t Super cool. “What do you want?”
“A ride on your scooter, and I promise not to scratch it or anything.”
He sighed, giving in. “All right.”
I sat on the electric scooter, and I gently opened the throttle. When the electric scooter wobbled briefly, the paperboy looked worried. I rode on the pavement, and it felt pretty cool. I opened up the throttle. Then the milkman stepped out of a front gate. The surprised look on his face mirrored my own. Oh, DROKK! I thought…I never caught Wendy kissing the paperboy again…
The autumn term began to drift lazily towards another Christmas. The days were getting shorter and colder. I was missing summer already; however, I was also looking forward to Christmas. It brings the family closer together. I like the presents too. I’ve recently started a Saturday job at a local drugstore. I’m saving up all my money, so I can buy the others nice presents this year. But before then, I am looking forward to my birthday. I’d stopped posting my wish notes all over the house. The others knew what I wanted by now.
Saturday, Late October,
London 2015
I was up early that morning, surprising myself.
I shivered as I crossed to the window. It was like an ice box in my room first thing before the gas central heating came on later. The old fireplace, which had never been used in my lifetime, was boarded-up. I moved the curtains a fraction. The milkman was pulling away in his electric float. He looked miserable. Who’d be a milkman in this weather? I hope he’s left my yoghurt.
The new postman, who was young with cropped, blonde hair, turned into our front gate. Would this be another routine I’d miss in the new world? I let the thought briefly enter my head. When I noticed the bundle of letters in his hand, I wondered how many disappointing replies daddy would receive today. When the other looked up, I ducked behind the window. Had he seen me? I was wearing only my top. The thought made me blush.
As I picked up my dressing gown, the door flew open and Tommy burst into my room. ZOOTWOSOME! He ran at me and punched me in the stomach before he tried to take a large chunk out of my right leg. VENUS PEBBLES! I winced, for he has sharp, little teeth.
“Right,” I breathed, “this is the last straw.”
Tommy looked startled when I picked him up by the scruff of the neck and tucked him whole under my arm as I left my room.
I bumped into Wendy on the landing. She was coming out of the bathroom in a towelling robe. Her skin was pink. She had been in the shower.
“Jade, what are you planning to do with It?” asked Wendy with a wry expression on her face.
“What?”
“Yes, what?”
“I’m going to flush the little horror down the bog, Wendy,” I replied darkly.
“Good.”
“No, Fade, no,” pleaded a small voice. “Me be good, not bite you no more.”
“Is that a promise?”
He nodded.
“Good.”
I opened my arms and dropped him. He was unhurt. He landed on all fours like a big cat.
Dismissing the other from my mind, I went downstairs in my dressing gown. I picked up the morning post, which was mostly addressed to daddy, so I was more than excited when I found an airmail letter that was addressed to me. I’m corresponding with a girl called Debbie Shultz who’s from the States. Debbie, who’s the same age as I, lives in LA. We’re pen pals. Although I could email her, I like receiving her airmail letters. I slipped the blue airmail into my dressing gown pocket.
I entered the kitchen. Mum was preparing breakfast. She was making bacon and eggs.
“Bacon and eggs all right, Jade?” asked mum.
“Fine,” I answered. “Where’s dad, Mum?”
“Where he is most days now, Jade,” replied mum wearily. “It has become an obsession with him. Now, he’s invited some of his amateur astronomer friends around tonight to discuss it. Do you believe all of that stuff with the comet, Jade?”
I bit my lip. “Dad is a scient
ist, Mum. He knows these things. I believe him.”
“But, Jade, something like that hitting the world.” She shivered.
I saw it in her eyes, the massive devastation, destroyed cities, tidal waves, earthquakes and so on. I gave her a little squeeze to reassure her. Whatever happened, we’d be okay. I knew that in my heart. The Robinson family would get through this thing, all of us. We would. Why was I repeating myself? I sometimes needed reassurance too. I got it from daddy and the rest of my family.
I took a cup of tea up to dad with his morning post. When he ignored the letters, I wasn’t surprised. He didn’t open them. He rarely did nowadays. They had almost become like junk mail to him. When did you last open your junk mail? I sat with him for awhile, watching him feed up-to-date data into his computer from the night before. He continued to track the rogue comet through his telescope. Mum was wrong; it wasn’t an obsession with daddy. He was a dedicated scientist. He believed that it was his duty to warn the world of the coming of the comet. But who would believe him? Mr Whitehouse, my science teacher, did. He was a true friend to me at school. Many of daddy’s astronomer friends did. I did, so daddy wasn’t alone. It sometimes felt that way to him.
“Dad, where is Robinson’s Comet now?” I inquired.
He chuckled.
I’d renamed the rogue comet after daddy needless to say.
“The rogue comet passed close to Mars early this morning,” revealed Daddy, “and the gravity of the red planet has thrown it into earth orbit.”
I showered later. Afterwards, I put on my shop uniform.
I breakfasted with the family, eating bran flakes in cold milk from the fridge.
“Jade, how is the Saturday job coming along now?” enquired mum.
“Fine.”
I frowned when Wendy who sat next to me at the breakfast table nudged me with her elbow. I rubbed my sore ribs.
“What?”
“Jade, tell mum what happened the other day in the shop.”
I was puzzled briefly. “Nothing happened the other day.”
“It,” prompted Wendy who smirked.
I remembered it. “Kevin Willis came into the shop, and he…bought some things…”
“What sort of things, dear?” probed mum patiently, drinking tea from a bone china cup.
“Small packets,” I finally replied.
“Pardon?”
Wendy and I bubbled with laughter at the breakfast table. Mum shook her head amused, for she understood. She was young once herself.
As daddy gave me a lift to work in his Japanese Jeep that morning, I stared on the window, watching the world go by. When we turned into the high street, the people at the long bus queue looked cold and miserable. We were nice and warm in the Jeep, but I didn’t feel guilty, especially when I saw Kevin Willis, who worked in a local supermarket on Saturdays, in the long queue. I smiled inwardly. French letters came to mind. The wraps were coming off the stalls in the market place. The town was coming to life. When the lights changed, we got caught behind a tipper lorry, which was spewing out filth. Daddy complained silently. In many ways, this familiar scene was a reassuring one. Life went on as normal. Nothing much seemed to change. As I gazed at the grey sky, the earlier dream came rushing back to me briefly. I looked away quickly.
That Saturday in the drugstore was almost as forgettable as the last one. I spent the best part of the morning serving behind the counter when it was busy. It was quieter in the afternoon, so Mr Patel, the branch manager, assigned me to other important duties in the shop, shelf-filling. I didn’t complain, for it was work experience.
When I got in later, I changed. I slipped on my long, red, gypsy-style skirt with a silk, blouse top. I undid one or two top buttons. My hair looked a bit straggly, so I put a comb through it. Then I checked myself in the mirror before I went downstairs for tea.
Wendy smirked. “Going out somewhere, are we, Jade?”
But I chose to ignore her comments.
When daddy’s amateur astronomer friends arrived at the house later, I was expecting stern, studious professor types; however, I was wrong. I was mildly surprised in fact. One or two were young and good looking, which kept Wendy downstairs all evening, though I wasn’t interested in that sort of thing yet, so I wasn’t bothered.
I was pleased when Simon Whitehouse arrived a little later. He looked a little surprised when I kissed his cheek. I took his coat and scarf. I hung them up in the cloakroom. Then I showed him through to the sitting room where the others had gathered.
Mother, who played the gracious hostess, laid on the refreshments for the guests.
I hid behind my comic in the armchair, listening to the others discuss and debate ‘Robinson’s Comet.’ Wendy sat opposite me on the sofa, pretending to read Hot Pops (the music paper) as she eyed up the astronomers curiously.
As host and chairman, father opened the debate.
“The comet passed close to Mars early this morning,” he announced calmly, lighting his pipe, which had gone out again.
There was a murmur of excitement from the others in the group, for these people were ‘believers,’ too. They had seen the light. The faint smudge of light that they saw through their telescopes night after night weather permitting was the comet.
I glanced at Mr Whitehouse who was listening intently. I still wasn’t sure about Simon. Was he really a believer too? He was here, wasn’t he? Yes, he was a believer too. After all, he believed in parallel universes, didn’t he?
“Frank, how has the influence of Mars affected the velocity of the comet now?” asked one.
I peered over my comic, which I wasn’t reading, curiously. The speaker was the younger one in the group, blonde hair and blue eyes. Wendy, who noticed, blinked her eyes at me over her pop paper. I ignored her. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m simply not interested in boys yet, though the other wasn’t a boy. He was a man and good-looking too. I bit my lip. What was I thinking? I blushed self-consciously behind my comic.
“Passing close to the influence of Mars has now increased the velocity of the comet by perhaps up to 1.2 kilometres per second,” answered Frank…daddy grimly.
One or two in daddy’s group whistled. They seemed impressed by his figures, though 1.2 kilometres per second didn’t seem very fast to me till I did some simple mental arithmetic in my head. I realised astonished that 1.2 kilometres per second was over 4000 kilometres per hour. I almost whistled too. The thought also frightened me. That was only the increased acceleration point of the comet.
“So, how fast is the comet travelling now, Frank?” wondered another in unscientific terms.
It was a question that was on my lips too.
“The comet is now travelling at almost 15 kilometres per second,” replied daddy as a matter of fact.
About 54,000 kilometres per hour, I thought. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I tried not to think about such fantastic speeds. The comet hitting the earth at that speed was a nightmare vision. It was almost unimaginable.
“Frank, what is the comet’s mass?” someone else.
“A comet is a pretty small thing in space compared to a planetary body, so it’s extremely difficult to calculate its mass from such a distance.”
Daddy is right. I’ve observed the comet through his telescope. It’s little more than a pinprick of light in the vastness of outer space. It seems harmless enough, yet I and daddy know that it isn’t. Daddy had the answer because he had worked it out with the help of his computer. He was being too modest again, I thought.
“Hazard a guess, Frank,” urged another.
Daddy lit his pipe thoughtfully before he answered the question: “Although the science isn’t an exact one, we now know that the radius of the rogue comet is about 2 kilometres, so the mass must be in the order of many megatons.”
ZOOTWOSOME! Many megatons? My mind boggled. I knew the figure was almost astronomical. When I was 7 or 8 as I recall, a rock from heaven (daddy cal
led it a meteorite) crashed into our garden greenhouse, breaking one of the glass panes. But that was a tiny pebble compared to ‘Robinson’s Comet,’ which was the size of a minor planet!
“Frank, what sort of destruction would a comet of this size cause?” another.
“It would probably wipe out most of Western Europe.”
Most of Western Europe? I went cold inside.
Daddy added, “The comet would leave a crater many kilometres deep and wide, cause giant tidal waves, trigger earthquakes and volcanic eruptions throughout the world, and the impact of the rogue comet would throw up billions of tonnes of rock and ash into the upper atmosphere, blocking out the sun for decades, even centuries, which could lead to a new ice age.”
Dad was painting a very gloomy picture indeed for the future of mankind. But what would it mean for me?
“I’ve been studying the behaviour of our rogue comet too, Frank,” said one, “and it seems to me that it could be made up entirely of ice and water and would evaporate harmlessly anyway as soon as it had entered the outer layers of the earth’s atmosphere.”
A few murmured in agreement.
Perhaps the speaker was right. I hoped so. We’d all worried for nothing. The end of the world wasn’t around the corner.
“Metals and rock,” insisted daddy.
“Frank, do you seriously believe that this fragment of the Icarus 9 Comet is going to collide with the planet earth sometime in the near future?” queried the first dissenting voice in the group of believers.
I was surprised. Who was it? I peered over my comic. It was an older head, which didn’t surprise me. It was someone who couldn’t accept that such a catastrophe would ever be visited upon our world, yet it had in the distant past. I thought of the dinosaurs again.
But daddy threw the question right back at the sceptic: “John, you’ve been tracking this thing for sometime now yourself, we all have, through your own telescope. What do you think?”
Daddy is always saying that attack is the best form of defence.
“I-I think that it will remain in a harmless orbit around Mars,” answered the other hesitantly. He was unsure.
But one or two murmured in agreement.
The Citadel and the Wolves Page 5
