‘Prove what?’ Dad asks as the sound of an acoustic guitar and a chorus of ‘Kumbaya’ drifts across from the campfire.
‘Prove that you’re an alien,’ I tell him, the two of us standing beneath the stars. The shadows of the trees at the forest’s edge stretch towards us like trailing tentacles. ‘In the movies, every alien who comes to Earth has got some kind of special ability. Superman can fly, Skrulls are shape-shifters and E.T. can use his finger like a torch. What extraterrestrial powers have you got, Dad?’
‘Errrr,’ Dad scratches his head as he ponders the question. ‘I don’t think I have got any special abilities.’
He waggles the tip of his finger, but this doesn’t light up.
‘You see, my home planet is a lot like Earth. It’s got the same kind of atmosphere, land and liquid water - even the weather’s pretty much the same, although Manchester gets a bit more rain. The only thing that’s really different is the gravity.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, the gravity here on Earth is a little lower than I’m used to,’ Dad explains. ‘So sometimes this makes me feel like I can fly. That’s what I was trying to tell you when we were tackling the treetop challenge.’
I remember Dad dancing across the swaying rope bridge, my heart in my mouth as I watched him soar through the air.
‘That doesn’t prove anything,’ I say. ‘You’re just good at gymnastics – exactly like me. Mrs Mays always says it’s like I forget gravity exists when I get on the gymnastics mat, but that doesn’t mean I’m an alien.’
‘OK,’ Dad replies. ‘But what about the fact that your skin turned bright green?’
‘That was an allergic reaction!’ I explode. It was bad enough listening to everyone else’s jokes about little green men without my dad joining in. ‘I don’t know why you’re making up this stupid story, but I don’t want to play your silly games any more.’
Angrily, I start to turn away, but Dad reaches out a hand to stop me.
‘I’m not making it up, Jake. I can prove what I’m saying is true.’ He reaches into his pocket. ‘I can show you some real alien technology.’
‘What is it?’ I ask, unable to hide my sarcasm. ‘A lightsaber? We’re not playing games in the garden, Dad.’
Dad shakes his head. ‘Lightsabers are kind of lame, Jake,’ he replies, opening up his hand to show me what he’s got there. ‘This is much more powerful.’
A small, egg-shaped stone, jet-black in colour, sits in the centre of his palm.
I stare at this, open-mouthed. ‘It’s a pebble.’
‘No, no, no,’ Dad replies. ‘This is the Quintessence – the beating heart of my spaceship. And since my spaceship was vaporized, it’s the only alien technology I’ve got left.’
Picking up the pebble, he twists this between his fingers and I gasp in surprise as starry lights suddenly shimmer across the surface of the stone.
‘With its emergency settings activated, the Quintessence is equipped with a universal translator, harmonic modulating circuit, cloaking shield and quantum flare. This device saved my life when I landed here on Earth.’
Dad’s words don’t make any sense to me, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the glittering pebble.
‘How?’ I ask as Dad places it in the palm of my hand.
‘I was being hunted by killer robots, searching for any sign of rogue alien life. The only way to escape was to go undercover – as a human being. The harmonic modulating circuit reprogrammed my biology, whilst the cloaking shield disguised any trace of alien technology. I used the universal translator to help me pick up the local lingo and then my transformation was complete. Goodbye, Ion of Mmbogbjsqxmmhxzohzmmhphfszdixzsoespcxmmmmbouztjmjphphphpdi. Hello, Ion Jones.’
Using the back of my sleeve, I wipe the spittle from my face.
‘Can’t you just call it planet Mmbog?’
‘You can call it what you like,’ Dad replies in a wistful tone, his gaze drifting upwards towards the night sky. ‘With my spaceship gone, I’m never going back there. The only way off this planet is if I activated the quantum flare – and I wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that.’
I turn the pebble over in my hand. Flickering lights ripple across its surface as I look for the place where the batteries go. I still can’t really believe what he’s telling me. This must be a toy, not some piece of alien technology. Copying my dad, I twist the egg-shaped pebble between my fingers and grin as I feel it catch with a click.
Not just on the Quintessence, but everywhere.
The fairy lights strewn over the roof of the yurt, the lanterns hanging across the campsite, even the neon signs outside the toilet block. Everything’s dark and I hear my dad groan as I turn my gaze to the stars.
They’re not there. The sky is completely black, as though someone has thrown a cloak across the universe, hiding every star from view. My head spins as I stare up into the infinite darkness.
Panicking, I twist the device again and the stars come back out with a click.
I look around the campsite, the fairy lights and lanterns shine brightly once more as the singalong splutters to a stop.
‘What – what just happened?’
Dad snatches the Quintessence off me, its flickering lights now pulsing with a strange red glow.
‘You activated the quantum flare!’
As Dad speaks, the night air seems to prickle with a strange electricity. It feels like a storm is brewing.
‘What do you mean?’ I ask.
‘Inside the Quintessence is an emergency distress signal – a quantum flare – that when activated instantly communicates its location across the universe. They’ll know we’re here!’
Dad frantically shakes the pebble, trying to turn it off somehow.
And that’s when I see the glowing spheres of light, drifting slowly down out of the dark sky. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
‘Is that ball lightning?’ I ask, pointing up towards the strange blue-white orbs. They seem to be growing brighter as they descend and I hear the others shouting in surprise.
‘That’s not lightning,’ Dad replies, grabbing hold of my arm and dragging me towards the trees. ‘They’re Remote Operation Bio-location Observation and Termination units!’
‘What?’
I glance back to see three glowing spheres hovering above our pop-up tent.
‘Killer robots!’ Dad shouts as a silent explosion of light engulfs the clearing. When the flash fades the tent is gone. ‘Run!’