Crouching down in front of the front door, Damon flips open the letter box.
‘They’re still all there,’ he says as he peers out at the TV news crews gathered outside my front gate.
As I listen to the hubbub of voices outside, I feel a panicky fluttering inside my chest. It almost feels like two hearts are beating in there. Lifting my hand, I press my green fingers against my chest to try to calm my runaway nerves.
‘I still don’t see how embarrassing me in front of the whole world is going to bring the Cosmic Authority back.’
‘When you go out there,’ Amba says, taking my hand in hers as my heartbeat starts to slow, ‘those TV cameras aren’t just going to be beaming pictures of you around the world. Those signals will head out into space too, travelling at the speed of light. In one of those library books it said we’ve been sending signals into space ever since we invented TV and radio. All the TV programmes we watch and all the songs we hear on the radio escape from Earth’s atmosphere and travel to the stars.’
I remember what Dad told me about the sphere of silence that is placed around our solar system, blocking out all the TV and radio signals that we send. But one signal got through before – the message that brought Dad to Earth. The loneliest voice he’d ever heard, singing ‘Space Oddity’.
‘That’s how you can tell the Cosmic Authority that Ion’s your dad,’ Amba continues, letting go of my hand as she reaches for the door handle. ‘And if he thinks you’re an alien too, he’s going to come back and beam you up.’
It sounds like Amba has thought of everything. I just need to hope that huge spaceship hasn’t left the solar system by now. I shiver as I remember the rainbow beam of its scanner, scrolling across my skin. Then I remember something else.
‘There’s just one problem,’ I say. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the Quintessence and hold this up for Amba to see. ‘I think my dad used this to reprogram my biology. When that spaceship scanned me at the campsite it thought I was a human being. My skin might be green, but an allergic reaction to a Super Vegetable Smoothie Shake isn’t going to fool any extraterrestrial scanning machine.’
Amba’s brow furrows in a frown. She looks at me thoughtfully. ‘Tell me again why you and your dad hid in the zorb.’
‘He said it would keep us disguised,’ I say. ‘Inside the zorb our bio-data signals were all mixed up so the Cosmic Authority couldn’t tell which one of us was the alien.’
‘Hmmm,’ Amba says. ‘So we need to mix up you and your dad’s bio-data again. Maybe we could get some of his DNA – you know, like in the films when they use this to track the criminal down.’
‘My dad’s not a criminal!’
‘No, but he is an alien,’ Amba replies patiently. ‘Have you got one of his hats or maybe a pair of gloves? Anything that might have a trace of his DNA. Preferably something a bit . . . smelly?’
I think about this for a moment. Mum’s upstairs, so I can’t go rooting around in their wardrobe. And all the clothes in Dad’s rucksack were disintegrated when the killer robots blew up our tent. Except for his . . .
‘Smelly socks!’
I race to get these from the living room.
‘So what should I do with these?’ I ask, holding the socks well away from my nose. ‘Do you want me to wear them?’
Amba nods her head as she plucks the socks out of my hand. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘But not on your feet.’
Reaching up to my head, Amba hooks a smelly sock over each ear.
‘There,’ she says as I feel the elasticated tops of the socks ping around my ears. ‘Now when the aliens scan you, the first thing they’ll read is your dad’s DNA. You’ll look and smell like an alien.’
I blink as my eyes start to water.
An invisible cloud of blue cheese and toenails now seems to be hanging in the air around my head. These socks really stink.
Holding his nose, Damon steps back from the front door to let me through. ‘Good luck, Jake,’ he says, his voice coming out in a nasally squeak.
‘Just remember,’ Amba says as I pause at the door. ‘This will be the biggest news story ever. Real proof that aliens exist. Every TV channel will cut to show the news live, beaming your face up into space. There’s no way the Cosmic Authority will be able to ignore this signal.’
My hand trembles as I reach for the front door handle. Through the obscured glass at the top of the door, I can see the bright lights of the TV cameras.
I’m not just going to embarrass myself in front of the whole world – I’m going to embarrass myself in front of the whole universe.
Taking a deep breath, I open the front door and step outside.