Chapter Six:

Cracking the Code

Yup, Pockets can climb a drainpipe. But he doesn’t even need to. He just crouches low and then leaps up into the air, grabbing the yellow object with his teeth. For such a huge cat, he lands with only the slightest plop.

Dad pulls the object out of Pockets’ mouth. It does turn out to be paper—a flyer or an ad for something. Only it’s written in some foreign language. Pockets smooths it out on the ground, turns it a quarter turn, studies it, then turns it again. I’m preparing for that growl of frustration that’s become so common since yesterday, but instead he just sighs and hangs his head.

“It’s my own fault,” he says. “This could be the clue we need, but I didn’t pay enough attention in my classes at the ISF Academy. I figured, why should I bother to learn all those languages when all I have to do is plug them into my tablet or stick in my Translate-Ear? Now I know why.”

I awkwardly pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t feel too bad. A solar storm knocking out all your equipment almost never happens, right? And hey, Toe told me he’s studying to be a teacher. I bet he knows something about alien languages.”

We get home to find everyone around the kitchen table. Mom deposits a fresh stack of pancakes in front of Toe, who is clutching his belly. “I couldn’t eat one more bite,” he sings when he sees us. “Pancakes this good are a total delight!”

“Mom’s pancakes are definitely the best,” I agree. I give Toe a quick once-over to make sure Penny hasn’t decided to pierce his ears or strap her purple dragon to his back. Except for the fact that his wavy fur has been brushed straight, he looks pretty much how we left him.

Now back to being unable to speak since Penny is around, Pockets heads into the living room and curls up in a sunny spot. Ten seconds later, he’s snoring. Whatever else is bothering him, it can’t compete with his need to sleep.

Toe gets to work on the flyer while Dad and I help ourselves to his breakfast. Barney’s bagels are good, but nothing compares to Mom’s pancakes. Bored, Penny wanders off into the living room and curls up next to Pockets. His snores are now mixed with purrs. Penny can always get him to purr, even in his sleep!

“Archie,” Toe sings after making sure Penny can’t hear the question, “does Pockets have a copy of Aliens ‘R’ Us?”

“He has a lot of books,” I reply. “I’ll go look.” I stop halfway out of the room. “I just rhymed! Well, sort of!”

Toe grins. “You’re a poet and don’t know it!”

Between missions, Pockets likes for us to take him to the local public library. He always comes home with an armload of books on all different topics. But now all his books are packed in one big box, and a suitcase sits in the middle of the closet floor. With all his built-in pockets to carry stuff, Pockets never needs a suitcase. Unless… unless he’s going away on a long trip and hasn’t told us? Is that what’s bothering him?

I sort through the books until I find the one Toe asked about. It must be one Pockets brought from home. A book describing all these different aliens would be handy to have on our visits to Akbar’s. Actually, it would have been handy to have yesterday at Barney’s!

I bring it back to the kitchen and Toe flips to a section at the end. It has a chart with all the letters of the alphabet in different boxes. He points to the page and sings, “Sorry to take so long. We were doing this all wrong! It’s not a language, it’s a code! That is what the book here showed. Every letter stands for another. Is it okay if I hug your mother?”

He jumps up, hugs a surprised Mom, and sits back down. I’m pretty sure he did that just so his song would rhyme!