CHAPTER FIVE

The ARCC link went down twice more while Bex and Bradley were driving back from London to Newcastle, but by the time they arrived back at the apartment Kieron thought he’d got some kind of handle on what was happening.

‘It’s five minutes in every hour,’ he said as the door opened and Bex came through.

‘What’s five minutes in every hour?’ Bex asked.

‘It’s the period of time when he acts like a normal human being,’ Sam called from the kitchen, where he’d gone to make a Pot Noodle.

‘Shut up,’ Kieron called back, then turned to where Bex and Bradley were now standing. They looked dusty. ‘Five minutes in every hour is how long the ARCC link goes down for.’

‘Interesting.’ Bradley crossed to the sofa and threw himself onto it with a huge grin.

‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ Sam yelled. ‘I’m boiling the kettle.’

‘A glass of red wine would be better,’ Bex said, ruffling Kieron’s hair as she passed him by and then sitting down in a comfortable chair, ‘but tea would be perfectly acceptable.’

Bradley sniffed. ‘Is that curry I can smell? Have you got a takeaway? That’s very thoughtful of you.’

‘Or, heaven forefend, are you teenagers actually cooking?’ Bex asked, smiling. ‘That would be a shock.’

Sam appeared in the kitchen doorway holding a large mug from which small spirals of steam rose up. ‘It’s a Pot Noodle. A tandoori chicken Pot Noodle.’

Bradley closed his eyes and sighed. ‘I despair for the youth of today. Have you guys never even heard of real food?’

Sam frowned down at his mug. ‘This is proper food.’

‘We’ll find somewhere online that delivers,’ Bex said, waving a hand at Bradley. ‘I’m more interested in this “five minutes every hour” thing. What could be causing it?’

Bradley pulled himself upright and reached over to where Kieron had left the ARCC glasses on the arm of the sofa. Kieron noticed that the other set – the ones Bex and Bradley had taken with them – were stuffed in the pocket of Bradley’s shirt. ‘I’ll run a diagnostic on this pair, just like I did on the others, but I’m not expecting to find anything wrong. I’m pretty sure the issue is with the PEREGRINE satellite system.’

‘Yeah.’ Kieron glanced over at Sam, who was blowing on his Pot Noodle. ‘We’ve been worried about that. If there’s a problem with an entire military satellite network, doesn’t that mean that World War Three might be about to start? I mean, that’s the first thing Russia, or China, or North Korea would do, isn’t it? Jam all the military satellites?’

Bradley’s attention was largely fixed on the ARCC glasses, where he was fiddling with a piece of wire that he’d poked into a small hole in the frame between the lenses, but he was still paying attention to the conversation. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘That probably would be the first sign of a large-scale conflict, but I doubt that’s what’s happening here.’ He smiled, still focused on the glasses. ‘They used to say that the captains of nuclear submarines were told that if they surfaced but couldn’t hear the Shipping Forecast on the radio then they should assume war had been declared.’

‘What’s the Shipping Forecast?’ Kieron asked, puzzled.

‘What’s radio?’ Sam asked at the same time.

Bradley shook his head sadly. ‘Moving on, there are seventy-six PEREGRINE satellites in inclined circular orbits around the Earth. Those orbits “precess”, which means they rotate around, so the satellites pass over different parts of the planet, although eventually the orbits will start to repeat themselves.’ He looked at Kieron and Sam’s blank faces, and sighed. ‘Imagine the Earth, then imagine seventy-six circles way above the Earth and surrounding it like a net, and then imagine that the net itself is gradually turning. The idea is that there should always be at least ten of them visible in the sky from anywhere on the Earth’s surface at any one time. Operating a decent satellite navigation system isn’t like satellite communications where you just need to see just one satellite so you can upload or download a message. You need at least four satellites in sight, each one broadcasting its own position, so you can triangulate your own position.’ He frowned. ‘Well, technically not “triangulate” if there’s you and four satellites. “Pentagulate”? Is that even a word?’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, the PEREGRINE “constellation”, as they call it, is fully populated, so there are no holes. But, if some of the satellites are malfunctioning, then gaps start appearing in the coverage. So we’re looking at a technical problem with the satellites rather than a problem with the ARCC glasses.’

‘But,’ Bex said quietly, ‘if satellites were failing randomly, then you’d expect several gaps in coverage as they passed overhead. Surely, if there’s only one gap – and that’s what you said, isn’t it, Kieron; just one gap every hour? – then that implies that the satellites are failing in order, one after the other.’

Bradley put the glasses back down on the arm of the chair and stared at her. ‘That’s worrying,’ he said. ‘Actually, that’s very worrying. It means that, somehow, the PEREGRINE satellites are being affected by some outside force that’s accessing them from a ground station. As each one passes over, it’s being affected.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Maybe a virus in an upload, but the uploads are encrypted, and whoever was uploading the virus would have to break that encryption. More likely someone in one of the actual PEREGRINE control stations is sending up false commands to make the satellites do things they’re not supposed to.’

‘So it’s an inside job?’ Kieron asked, feeling a chill run through him. It was bad enough thinking that some other nation was sabotaging British military satellites, but for someone actually in the military to be doing it …

Bex nodded. ‘It’s looking that way, isn’t it?’

Bradley tapped the glasses. ‘These are fine, by the way. It’s definitely PEREGRINE that’s the problem.’ He glanced over at Sam. ‘Where’s that tea?’

‘Oh, sorry.’ Sam vanished back into the kitchen.

‘What are these PEREGRINE ground stations?’ Kieron asked.

‘They’re just what they sound like. Places with computers and antennas pointing upwards where instructions can be sent up to the satellites. Normally you’d have a main ground station and a couple of backups, just in case the main one goes down, or in case you need access to a satellite right away but it’s not in sight of the main station.’

‘And where are they?’

Bradley grimaced. ‘That’s the problem – they’re top secret. We don’t know. They could be anywhere in the world.’

Kieron nodded towards the ARCC glasses. ‘That’s OK. We just use those to find the information out. They can access any database, anywhere.’

Bradley coughed. ‘Except the top-secret UK databases that have been deliberately left out,’ he said. ‘The whole point of the ARCC kit and the SIS-TERR capability is that it gives agents information they can use when they’re under cover. There’s no sensible reason why an agent would need to know highly sensitive information about the way MI6 or the Ministry of Defence work. Those databases are blocked. No access.’

Kieron thought for a moment. ‘OK, but the main one would be in England, surely? I mean, it makes sense that the others are somewhere else in the world, but the main one would have to be in England.’

Bex shook her head. ‘Not necessarily. Remember, it’s a military system, meant to provide navigation and communications in time of war. If the UK is attacked, then the ground station might well be taken out. For that reason you might want to put it abroad – Gibraltar or somewhere else we control. Or hidden in an embassy abroad.’

‘So …’ Kieron closed his eyes, trying to sort his way through the mass of information that had just been thrown at him. It was like a science lesson back at school. ‘I understand that when you thought there was a problem with the ARCC kit itself you didn’t want to talk to MI6, but now you know the problem is with the satellites, why not just tell them and let them sort it out?’

Bex looked at Bradley, then back to Kieron. ‘Because we know there’s a traitor in MI6, and they might be trying to get at us through the PEREGRINE satellites. To put us out of action. Avalon Richardson will just use this to put more pressure on us to transfer the system to her, and we’re not going to do that. I think we’re going to have to sort this one out ourselves.’

‘Again,’ Sam said, re-entering the room with two cups of tea. ‘I’d say it was just like old times, except that “old times” was only few weeks ago.’ He crossed the room and handed the mugs over to Bex and Bradley. ‘OK. First, how are we going to find the main ground station, and second, how are we going to get in there?’

‘I’ve been thinking about that.’ Bex took a sip of her tea. ‘Ooh, that’s nice. Sorry – yes. The ground station will be largely automated, so that’s not necessarily a problem. Finding out where it is … That’s a problem, because the information on its location is top secret. We have to find someone who does know and get them to tell us.’

‘Just like that?’ Kieron asked. ‘You make it sound so simple.’

‘Not simple,’ Bex said, smiling, ‘I mean, when is anything in our lives simple? But I’ve got a plan. Stay with me on this one. Ideally, we’d break into MI6 and find the information ourselves, but that’s just so impossible it takes the word “impossible” to a whole different level. So what we do is –’ she paused for impact – ‘we fake a room at MI6 that Bradley and I both know, we find someone who works there on the night shift, we knock them out without them realising and bring them to the fake room, we wake them up again, we tell them they must have fallen asleep, and then we chat to them about the PEREGRINE satellite system and get them to tell us where the ground station is based.’

Kieron looked over at Sam. Sam looked back at him.

‘Do you want to tell them all the problems with that plan?’ Sam asked.

‘It’s not really a plan, is it?’ Kieron replied. ‘I mean, it’s just a string of unlikely things all put in a row.’

‘Yeah, very funny.’ Bradley looked at each of the boys in turn. ‘Do you have a better plan?’

‘I dunno,’ Sam said. ‘Give us half an hour.’

Yet by the time they’d ordered a takeaway from the local Thai restaurant and Bradley and Sam had gone to collect it, none of them had thought of anything better. It looked as if they were stuck with this plan whether they liked it or not.

‘OK,’ said Bradley around a mouthful of pad thai. ‘We need a room in MI6 that we’re familiar with, and where someone works who knows about top-secret satellite communications.’

‘The ops room in the Edinburgh MI6 outstation.’ Bex had a forkful of massaman curry in her hand, and waved it about for emphasis. ‘We’ve both been there, which means we know how it’s set out. And the people who work there have access to all the communications equipment and systems that MI6 use.’

Bradley nodded. ‘Even better. I’ve got photographs on it on my phone. We can use them to recreate it perfectly.’

Kieron watched, amused, as Bex gave Bradley a hard stare. ‘You have photographs of a top-secret MI6 operations control room? Have you never even heard of security? The Official Secrets Act? Those things?’

Bradley shrugged defensively. ‘It was a party. Remember, you were there? The main comms guy was retiring, so he’d got some bottles of warm white wine and some nibbles, and we all had a session after the bosses had left. I took some selfies, but the background of the selfies is the ops control room, seen from various different angles. Good, eh?’

‘Selfies.’ Bex raised a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes momentarily. ‘We were supposed to hand mobiles in at the main gate. They get put in a lead box, remember? You’re supposed to collect them on your way out.’

Bradley winced. ‘Yeah, that day I had two different mobiles on me. The old one had a cracked screen, but I hadn’t moved everything across to the new phone. I handed one in but I forgot about the other one.’

‘Sometimes I despair of you.’ She shrugged. ‘Still, it’s a good thing you’ve got those photographs.’

A thought occurred to Kieron. ‘Can I ask a question?’

‘Can we stop you?’ Bex and Bradley asked together.

‘Why don’t we just program a virtual-reality simulation of this ops control room into the ARCC glasses?’ He looked from one to the other. ‘That way we don’t have to build a complete recreation, we just make sure the person we kidnap is wearing the ARCC glasses when they wake up. I’m guessing we can adjust the glasses so that rather than showing see-through virtual screens they can show a completely solid image?’

‘We’re not using the word “kidnap”,’ Bex said quickly. ‘We’re just borrowing the person without them knowing.’ She glanced at Bradley. ‘But – interesting. Opinions?’

‘It won’t work,’ he said decisively, shaking his head. ‘There’s several risks. Firstly, we’d have to choose a worker there who actually wears glasses. That’s not necessarily a problem, but secondly, what happens if they decide to take the glasses off, or accidentally knock them off, and suddenly find themselves sitting on a chair here in our flat rather than being at work in their control room? Thirdly, the ARCC glasses aren’t all-enclosing, like real gaming goggles. Whoever we choose would be able to see stuff around the edges that isn’t part of the simulation. And fourthly, we’d have to put ourselves in the simulation so we can talk to them, and our simulations wouldn’t be anywhere near as lifelike as we are. It’s a problem with virtual reality – they call it the “uncanny valley”. The nearer a simulated person gets to a real person, the scarier they look. It’s something about skin tone, and the way the eyes don’t blink properly. Also, the skin and the hair are almost too perfect.’

‘Let’s take a look at those selfies then,’ Bex said, waving a hand at Bradley.

They downloaded the images onto the ARCC system and connected it up to the plasma TV screen in the apartment so they could all see them. In all there were twenty images of Bradley taken in the same room. The room itself was large, with maps pinned to the walls and several rows of monitors and desks facing a massive screen that seemed to take up most of a wall. Most of the monitors had padded headphones clipped to them. There were no windows. Every image also had several other people in the background, eating, drinking and talking, and each image had a bit of wall and some furniture in it. In some of the images Kieron saw Bex. She was standing by a wall, alone, with a glass of wine in her hand.

Bradley pointed to a man who appeared in several of the jigsaw-piece images. He was about the same age as Bradley and Bex, and he had a ginger beard, and long hair pulled back into a ponytail. ‘That’s the guy I think we should target,’ he said. ‘I seem to remember he was the night manager for the ops centre. He lives alone, or at least he did when these photographs were taken. I remember him as being a bit of a weirdo. Very intense, if you know what I mean. His name is Scott. I think. Or Lee. He’ll be on the staff list anyway.’

‘Right,’ Bex said. ‘I’ll check out this Scott, or Lee. You do your magic with the simulation.’

As Kieron and Sam watched, Bradley used the ARCC software to stitch all the images together into a kind of collage, a jigsaw puzzle that covered most of the room in a massive panoramic picture.

‘What I can do now,’ Bradley said, waving his hands around as he accessed controls on the virtual screens that only he could see, ‘is pull this combined image into a high-tech simulation-creator, get it to take the people out, and then get it to create a simulated environment that we can use as a reference to build what is effectively a fake theatrical set for our little performance.’ A few minutes later the panoramic image on the plasma TV screen flickered and vanished, to be replaced with a single picture of the same location, but seen from one particular point of view – looking directly at the wall-wide screen. It was almost too perfect to be believable.

Bradley turned his head slightly, and the image shifted to match.

‘Right,’ he said, ‘this is what I’m looking at right now.’

Bex glanced up from her laptop.

‘As far as I can remember, it’s just like the real thing,’ Bradley went on, ‘except that the simulation doesn’t have any coffee stains on the carpet or screwed-up empty snack packets near the bin where someone threw them and missed.’

‘So what now?’ Sam asked. ‘We actually build this?’

‘What happens now,’ Bex said, ‘is that we convert that simulation into a set of blueprints which we give to a company – probably one that makes sets for theatres and movies – and we get them to build it for us. They can find all the right furniture to match the stuff in the images, and put it all in the right place.’

‘We’ll have to hire a warehouse or an industrial unit with a big space in the middle,’ Bradley pointed out. He turned his head to look at Bex, and the picture on the TV screen slewed alarmingly.

‘This is all going to cost money,’ Bex pointed out. ‘It’s probably going to take a week or so to construct, and that’s if they’re not working on something else already and we have to wait.’

‘Well, we’ll just have to earn it back again.’

Bex looked over at Sam. ‘Like you said, it’s just like old times.’

It was getting late, so they agreed to split up and get back together the next morning. Sam and Kieron walked back to his flat, and then Sam headed for home alone while Kieron nervously went inside.

His mum wasn’t in. That was good. Actually, that wasn’t good, as he liked talking with her, but he’d been worried that she might have invited her new boyfriend round. That would have been awkward. But no, they were probably out somewhere. On a date.

A date. Kieron shuddered. Grown-ups shouldn’t go on dates. That kind of thing should be reserved for teenagers. Grown-ups should just have nights out.

That thought made him pull out his mobile – his real mobile, not the burner that Bex had given him in Italy – and send a text to Beth just to check that she was OK. Fifteen seconds later a text arrived back.

Im good. U OK? CU soon? J

He smiled. Teenagers dating was a good thing. He wasn’t sure if this was actually dating, but it was probably heading that way. He hoped.

The next morning Sam called for him, and together they headed to the cafe where they’d agreed to meet Bex and Bradley for breakfast. It wasn’t the cafe where Beth worked. Kieron would have voted for that, but Bex had been firm about the fact that they had work to do and she didn’t want him distracted.

Bex and Bradley were already there, looking at printouts they must have brought with them.

‘We’ve got the entire life history of Scott Bailson here,’ Bex said, waving them over. ‘His name is Scott. Bradley was right; he’s a perfect choice. I’ve managed to access his personnel file, and it turns out he’s had a fair amount of time off with migraines and viruses. He’s a bit of a hypochondriac, if you ask me, but that means if he suddenly passes out in his flat and then wakes up at what looks like work it’ll be relatively easy to convince him that he’s had another “episode” of whatever it is that he suffers from.’

‘And I’ve got a list of local companies who make film and TV sets,’ Bradley added, tapping his pile. ‘Turns out the north of England is great for that kind of thing. We’ve selected the best three, and we’re going to talk to them today and get quotes.’

‘How exactly are you going to knock this guy out without him realising?’ Kieron asked, puzzled. ‘I mean, if you just punch him, or hit him on the back of the head, he’ll know something’s up. I certainly would.’

Sam put a hand up, as if he was at school. ‘Ooh, I know! What about that neural net mesh thing we had in Albuquerque that wraps around someone’s head and gives out signals to send their brain to sleep?’

‘Two problems with that,’ Kieron pointed out. ‘Firstly, he’ll realise that his head has been wrapped in a metal mesh in the few seconds before the signal sends him to sleep, and secondly – and more importantly – we made that up. It isn’t real. It was just a story we invented so I could get into the Goldfinch Institute undercover.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Sam said, frowning. ‘Yeah, I remember now. I thought that thing was too good to be true.’

Bex held up a hand. ‘We’ve thought about sedatives,’ she said, ‘but getting the dose right can be problematic, as can slipping them into his food or drink. We also thought about doing it the old-fashioned way, with Bradley distracting him while I come up behind him and put pressure on a nerve junction in his neck in a kind of martial arts thing so he passes out. The problem with that is, he’s likely to remember being grabbed from behind and his neck being pinched.’

‘So there’s lots of options you can’t use,’ Sam pointed out. ‘What can you do? Anything?’

‘Have you ever heard of “flicker vertigo”?’ Bradley asked.

Kieron glanced over at Sam, who shook his head. Kieron did the same. ‘Sounds cool though,’ he said.

‘You know that some people can get epileptic fits if they’re exposed to flashing lights?’ Bradley went on.

‘That’s why TV programmes and movies have to have a warning if there are any flashing lights in them.’ Sam looked over at Kieron. ‘Remember Lee Jansen at school? He got triggered once at the school prom by the lights on the dance floor. Poor guy fell over and started twitching.’ He looked back at Bradley. ‘Is this Scott bloke epileptic then?’

‘No, but researchers have found that ordinary people, non-epileptics, can be sent into a trance or a state of sleep by lights that flash at a particular frequency. Helicopter pilots sometimes get it if the sun is shining through the rotors, and pilots of light aircraft if they’re flying a propeller-driven plane and the sun is directly ahead of them, low on the horizon. MI6 did some work on flicker vertigo in case they could use it to render people safely unconscious. We’re going to use the same principle to knock Scott out when he comes out of work. He’ll be tired then, and he’ll be more vulnerable.’

Sam frowned. ‘Wasn’t there something with a Pokémon episode, back in the day? I’m sure I heard something about that.’

‘Like we’d know,’ Bex scoffed.

‘Well,’ Bradley said, ‘actually …’

Sam typed rapidly into his mobile and nodded. ‘Yeah, apparently an episode of Pokémon they showed in Japan back in 1997. That’s, like, years before me or Kieron was born.’ He was speaking as he was reading the screen. ‘There’s a scene in it where Pikachu has to use his lightning attack to blow up some missiles, but he and Ash are actually inside a Pokéball transmitter at the time, so the animators couldn’t use the normal effect that they would have done in the real world. They decided to have the TV screen strobing red and blue for the explosions, but lots of kids in Japan started having problems when that went out on TV. Some of them had blurred vision or felt sick; some actually passed out. Apparently about seven hundred kids had to be hospitalised. That episode’s never been repeated, or released on DVD or Blu-ray. So, yeah, flashing lights do have an effect on people.’

Bex glanced at Bradley. ‘Did you understand what he said?’

Bradley winced. ‘The episode was called “Electric Soldier Porygon”,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s the thirty-eighth episode of the first season. I’ve actually got a pirate copy.’ He looked over at Bex, and shrugged. ‘I was a bit of a geek when I was a kid. I loved Pokémon.’

Kieron gazed at Bradley with an increased level of respect. Bradley caught the look, and blushed.

‘Anyway, the great thing is,’ Bex pointed out, ‘that he’s on the night shift, so he leaves at dawn, when the streets are quiet. We should be able to get him easily without anyone noticing.’

Kieron noticed that Sam was looking over at him with a sceptical expression. Kieron shook his head slightly. Best not to argue with Bex or Bradley. They had much more experience in this kind of thing than the two boys did.

The next few days passed in something of a blur for Kieron. He was still being home-schooled, supposedly, so there wasn’t a problem with him missing lessons. The problem was with him not being at home working on the assignments that his teachers kept sending through, and whenever he was outside Bex and Bradley’s apartment he was terrified that someone would see him, recognise him and report him to the headmaster. Or his mum. He wasn’t sure which would be worse.

Bex and Bradley had decided to go together to do all the administrative stuff necessary to rent an empty warehouse space for a month or two and then to hire a company to build a fake MI6 office inside. If just one of them went, they had decided, it might look a little odd, and if one of them turned up with a teenager then it might look even odder. Two adults in smart clothes, however – that looked professional. Kieron’s job was to provide them with support via the ARCC equipment in those periods when the PEREGRINE satellite network was working. Sam’s job was to provide Kieron with energy drinks, and to make snarky comments.

Hiring the warehouse was a relatively quick and painless process, the only slight problem being that it needed to be in Edinburgh rather than Newcastle. Obviously, as Bex pointed out, if they were going to knock out and ‘borrow’ an MI6 operative, the last thing they wanted to do was drive for over two hours to question him, then knock him out again and drive for over two hours back again to return him home. Fortunately there was a lot of warehouse space lying unused in the Edinburgh area, and Bex and Bradley managed to get a very good deal on a three-month rental. Hiring a local company to make a recreation of an MI6 office turned out to be slightly trickier. Bex and Bradley drove up to Edinburgh specifically to talk to the companies, but two of them turned it down straight away because of how short a time they were being given, even though the blueprints were ready.

‘We might have to look for a couple more options,’ Kieron heard Bex say quietly to Bradley as they stood in the foyer of the third company.

‘The trouble is,’ Bradley replied, equally quietly, ‘that these were the best choices. Any other option won’t be as good.’

Back in Newcastle, Kieron watched as they were led across a large hangar-like construction space. Right in the centre sat what looked to him like a spacecraft. An honest-to-God spacecraft.

‘Can you ask the bloke who’s escorting you what that is?’ he asked.

‘What’s the spacecraft for?’ Bex asked a few moments later.

The young technician who was leading them across the hangar space turned his head. ‘It’s a prop for a new science–fiction series on one of the streaming networks,’ he said. ‘Dunno what it’s called. We just make the thing. We’ve had to put it together to check that everything fits, but it comes apart for transport, then gets reassembled in their studio.’

‘Can’t they just use CGI?’ Kieron asked. ‘I mean, computer-generated images?’

‘Can’t they just do that with computers?’ Bex parroted.

‘Apparently the director wants stuff done for real, as much as possible,’ the technician replied. ‘He wants actors in spacesuits hanging onto the sides of the spacecraft while there’s explosions going on. You doing something like this?’

‘More or less,’ Bradley said.

Bex and Bradley were taken into a workshop area on the far side, where a burly man in a T-shirt and jeans was looking at plans spread out on a table. Bex explained to him exactly what it was they wanted him to build, and how long he’d have to do it, while Bradley showed him the blueprints and the simulation on his laptop screen. The man stood there for a while, thinking, while Bex and Bradley watched. Eventually he nodded.

‘We can do it,’ he said finally. ‘We’ve just finished work on that big spaceship you saw outside, and we’ve got another fortnight before the next project is ready to go, but I’m confused. It’s a sealed set, with four walls and a roof. If it’s for a film or a TV series, where are you going to put the cameras? Or if it’s for a play, where are the audience going to be? I mean, I guess we could make it so you could take any of the walls out and film through the gap, but you haven’t asked for that.’

None of the other two companies had asked that question. They’d just said politely that they didn’t have time to do the job and they’d escorted Bex and Bradley out.

‘Good point,’ Bradley said. Kieron spotted him in the corner of the ARCC glasses as he glanced across at Bex.

‘Drones,’ Kieron said quickly. ‘Drone cameras, used for realism.’

‘We’re filming with drone cameras,’ Bex said smoothly. ‘The actors will be positioned around the set, moving normally, and the drones will follow them around. It’s meant to be hyper-realistic.’

The T-shirted man nodded. ‘Yeah, I can understand that. Those steadycams that cameramen carry around take up a load of space, and you can sometimes see actors having to move out of the way so that the cameras can get past them. Drones are definitely the way to go. Let me make a quick calculation on the number of carpenters, plasterers and electricians I’ll need, and then I’ll email you a quote.’

‘Ask him about the chairs and tables and computer screens,’ Kieron reminded Bex. ‘It’s called “set dressing” in the trade.’

‘What about set dressing?’ Bex repeated as if the idea had only just occurred to her. ‘Are you able to get tables and chairs and computer stuff?’

The man nodded. ‘Easily. We’re in touch with a lot of second-hand furniture places. Just tell us what kind of chairs and tables you want and we’ll get hold of them. Computers are easy as well. Just give us a make and model and we’ll source them.’

The meeting broke up shortly after that, and the junior technician escorted Bex and Bradley back past the fake spacecraft.

‘I am definitely watching that series,’ Kieron said over the ARCC link.

Outside, alone in the open air, Bex turned to Bradley. In Kieron’s vision, Bradley’s face looked huge.

‘I think,’ Bex said, ‘that we’re in business.’

‘Just the kidnapping to go,’ Bradley said.

‘It’s not a kidnap,’ Bex hissed. ‘We’re just borrowing someone without his permission!’

It took the contractors that Bex and Bradley had hired four days to build the fake office. On the morning of the fifth day Kieron’s mobile woke him up. He groaned, pulled abruptly out of a dream in which he and the President of the USA were, strangely, solving crimes in a cowboy town, and reached for the phone. Blearily he noticed the time. 05.30.

‘Hmm?’

‘Kieron?’ It was Bex. ‘Time to get up. We’re waiting downstairs in the car.’

He dressed quickly and headed for the hall. As he opened his door he heard the bathroom lock snick open. His mum! He froze for a moment, then quickly scooted back to bed and pulled the duvet over himself. He waited, hardly breathing, as the bathroom door opened. Was his mum going to go straight back to her room? Straight back to sleep? What happened if his phone went off again right now – Bex wanting to know what the delay was? He pulled it out of his pocket and quickly muted it.

The door of his room creaked open. He lay there, imagining his mum standing in the doorway, looking at him. Checking that he was OK.

Just as long as she didn’t come over and pull the duvet away from his face so she could gently stroke his cheek. She did that sometimes, when she thought he was fast asleep. He never said anything, because he didn’t want her to get embarrassed and stop. But if she did that now, she would see that he was fully dressed.

Eventually, after so long that his pent-up breath was burning in his chest, Kieron heard the door creak again, and his mum moved off down the hall to her room. He counted to one hundred, then climbed back out of bed and moved to the door again. He opened it just enough for him to be able to slip through the gap but not enough for the hinge to squeak, glancing down the hall first to check that his mum’s door was closed. It was.

Fifteen seconds later he was outside the house.

Bex and Bradley had parked down the road, outside a row of shops, so that the sound of their engine didn’t wake anyone up. As he slipped into the back, nudging a sleeping Sam, he said, ‘Sorry – my mum woke up. I had to wait until she was out of the way.’

‘No problem,’ Bradley said from the front passenger seat. ‘Are you kids ready for an adventure?’

‘Not really,’ Kieron said honestly. Sam just snored.