70,000 YEARS SOUNDS LIKE FOR EVER

Amba stares at me with her eyes open wide. ‘So your dad’s an alien?’ she says.

I nod my head.

‘And this giant spaceship that beamed him up belongs to some kind of intergalactic police officer?’

I nod my head again.

‘The Cosmic Authority,’ I reply.

‘Is your mum an alien too?’ Damon asks, now looking suspiciously at the plate of home-baked biscuits on the table.

I shake my head. ‘No,’ I say, feeling kind of relieved that Mum’s gone upstairs for a lie-down now. ‘My mum’s human – she met my dad here on Earth.’

Damon turns his head towards me, searching my face as if he expects me to turn green again.

‘So what does that make you?’

I think about this, trying to work it out for myself. My dad’s an alien. My mum’s a human being. What does that make me?

‘I . . . I don’t know,’ I stutter.

Even though I’m sitting still, I feel my heart begin to race. I can almost hear a double-thud of heartbeats, thundering away inside my chest. I feel like I’m falling into a black hole.

Amba reaches out to take my hand. ‘It makes you Jake,’ she says, kicking Damon under the table. ‘And you’re our friend.’

‘Ow, Amba!’ Damon protests. Then he catches sight of the fierce glare that Amba’s aiming in his direction. ‘Oh yeah. Sorry, Jake. I didn’t mean anything bad by that. I think it’s cool you’ve got an alien for a dad.’

‘My dad isn’t cool,’ I sigh. ‘In fact, most of the time he’s really embarrassing. But I still want him back.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Amba says, giving my hand a friendly squeeze before letting it go. ‘We’re going to get your dad back.’

‘But how are we going to do that?’ Damon asks. ‘That spaceship might be halfway to Mars by now.’

‘My dad doesn’t come from Mars. He’s from a planet called . . .’ I pause as I remember the strange noise that Dad made when he said its name and decide to go with the Earth version instead, ‘Proxima b.’

Amba makes a sudden excited noise. ‘I read about Proxima b in the library!’

Picking up another of the books, Amba quickly flicks through it until she finds the page she’s looking for and then begins to read out loud.

‘Nowadays, astronomers can use telescopes to search for alien worlds where life might exist. By analysing the light emitted by a star, it’s possible to detect whether any planets are in orbit around it and even whether these “exoplanets” might be capable of supporting life. The closest exoplanet astronomers have found so far is called Proxima b and is located only four point two light years away from Earth. However, using current technology, it would take a spacecraft seventy thousand years to reach Proxima b, so there’s little chance of us popping round to say hello to any new alien neighbours who might be living there.’

Amba looks up and I see the disappointment on her face.

‘I’m sorry, Jake.’

4.2 light years doesn’t sound very far away. But 70,000 years sounds like for ever.

I feel like I’m going to cry.

Reaching into my pocket for a tissue to stop my eyes from leaking, my fingers find something egg-shaped there instead. I pull this out, placing it on the table in front of Amba.

‘What’s this?’ she asks.

The jet-black pebble sits there lifeless.

‘Alien technology,’ I reply. ‘My dad called it the Quintessence.’

‘What does it do?’ Damon asks.

‘Loads of stuff,’ I reply. ‘My dad used it to disguise himself as a human when he first landed here on Earth. It can translate alien languages and even has a quantum flare that can send a distress signal across the universe. I thought I could use this to lure the spaceship back.’

With a thoughtful look on her face, Amba picks up the device.

‘It’s supposed to light up when you twist it between your fingers,’ I tell her. ‘But it doesn’t seem to work any more.’

Holding it up to her eye, Amba peers at the egg-shaped pebble. ‘Clockwise or anti-clockwise?’ she asks.

‘I don’t know. Either way, I think, but neither seem to work now. I think my dad must have left the safety catch on.’

I watch as Amba tries to twist the Quintessence, her hands moving in opposite directions. For a second, I hold my breath, fingers crossed, hoping that the starry lights on the stone will shimmer into life again.

But nothing happens. Not even a faint glimmer of light can be seen. The alien device still looks like a dull, black pebble.

Amba hands it back to me.

‘I thought if I could send a signal then the aliens would come back.’ I look down at the useless device. ‘I guess I was wrong.’

Silence descends as the three of us sit glumly around the kitchen table. No more bright ideas. No chance of getting my dad back.

‘That’s it!’ Amba snaps her fingers, the sudden sound of this making Damon jump in surprise. ‘Maybe there’s another kind of signal we could send that would bring the aliens back.’

‘What do you mean?’ I ask.

Beneath her curly fringe, Amba’s brown eyes shine with excitement. ‘Didn’t you say aliens aren’t allowed to come to Earth?’

I nod my head. ‘Dad said it was strictly forbidden.’

‘So if we could send a signal that shows there is another alien here on Earth, the Cosmic Authority would have to come and get him, right?’

‘I suppose so, but how are we supposed to do that?’

Then the front doorbell rings again.

‘Go away!’ I hear my mum shout from upstairs. ‘And take your TV cameras with you too!’

Momentarily distracted, I turn back towards Amba and then notice the strange way she seems to be looking at me.

‘What?’

Amba grins in a way that suddenly makes me feel kind of worried.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ she says.