‘Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!’
I jump around as my feet hit the ground, the sensation of being zipped in and out of existence not much different to that time when I got my wotsits caught in the zip of my homemade pyjamas.
I mean, who puts a zip on a pair of pyjama bottoms?
My dad, that’s who, and it’s his voice I hear now as the pain of being beamed up slowly fades to a dull nagging ache.
‘Jake?’
I look up to see my dad standing right in front of me. He’s still dressed in his silly silver ski suit, the pong from this almost as bad as his socks as he stares at me in shock and surprise. He looks just the same as he usually does, but with one tiny difference. Just like me, his skin is bright green.
‘What happened to you?’ he exclaims. ‘And why have you got my socks on your head?’
Reaching up, I quickly slide the socks off my ears and stuff these into my pocket.
‘It was Amba’s idea,’ I explain. ‘She said I needed to look like a proper alien to fool the Cosmic Authority. She made me a Super Smoothie Shake using every vegetable in the fridge and, when I drank it, an allergic reaction turned my skin bright green. We popped your smelly socks over my ears to disguise my bio-data, then I popped outside to tell the whole world who I really was on live TV and challenged the Cosmic Authority to come and get me. I didn’t think it had worked at first, but then the spaceship came and beamed me up. And now I can rescue you.’
I grin, waiting for Dad to tell me how brilliant I am.
‘You idiot!’ he says, slapping his hands to his head in frustration. ‘You should have listened to me, Jake. I told you to use the Quintessence to keep you safe, but now you’re trapped on this spaceship with me.’
‘We don’t have to be trapped,’ I say, feeling rather annoyed at my dad’s reaction to being rescued. ‘We can escape together.’
With a despairing sigh, Dad throws his arms wide. ‘And how exactly do you think we’re going to do that?’
I look around the space, taking in my surroundings for the very first time.
It’s not much bigger than the inside of the zorb. But instead of a translucent hue, the colour of this room is a bright electric blue. Every surface is smooth – the walls, ceiling and floor all curving at the sides and the edges. I can’t see any windows or doors.
I try to push my hand against the nearest wall but feel my hand glide right past the surface without even making contact.
‘What is this?’ I ask, trying to push again against the gleaming blue sunshine. ‘Where are we?’
‘We’re in a holding cell,’ Dad explains. ‘This is a bioengineered prison. The quantum teleportation beam that brought you on board scanned your bio-data, just like it did mine. Any other creature could walk right through this electromagnetic barrier, but there’s no way we can escape.’
To demonstrate, Dad reaches out with his own hand and I watch as his green fingers bounce off the electric blue surface. He turns towards me, the lines around his tired eyes creased in concern.
‘I wish you’d listened to me, Jake. You’ve put yourself in terrible danger being here.’
Dad rests his hands on my shoulders, and inside my brain I feel my rescue plan slowly falling to pieces. I spent so long worrying about how to find my dad again that I forgot to think about the most important bit – how I was actually going to rescue him.
If only I had a sonic screwdriver, like Doctor Who, that we could use to blast our way out of this place. Then I remember, I’ve got something even better than that.
Reaching into my pocket I pull out the Quintessence, noticing as I do that the green tinge on my fingers is already starting to fade.
‘If it’s our bio-data that’s keeping us prisoner here, then why don’t we use the Quintessence to reprogram our biology? It can make you human again and change me back too.’
Faint lights flicker across the surface of the egg-shaped stone but as I hold it out for my dad to take, he shakes his head sadly.
‘It’s no use, Jake,’ he says, his gaze flicking over the device as he turns it over in his hands. ‘These lights show that the Quintessence is currently running on auxiliary power. This means only its most basic functions are operational. The quantum flare isn’t working, there’s no cloaking shield and the harmonic modulating circuit is on the blink.’ He hands the device back to me. ‘It needs more time to recharge.’
I’m about to ask him exactly how long when the blue wall of the cell starts to bulge behind my dad’s head.
‘Look out!’ I shout, pulling Dad away as the gleaming blue surface stretches and contorts. Then, with a sudden flubbery sound like a thousand rubber bands being pinged at once, a hideous creature emerges out of the blue.