How to Hide an Alien

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  The best kept secret in town

  Sunday: A home far from home?

  STAR BOY: A glimpse of the past

  WES: Seeing into space – sort of

  KIKI: The wriggly surprise

  WES: The life-changing lunchtime

  STAR BOY: The ping of a pang

  Monday: Keeping the secret of Stan

  KIKI: Unflusterable

  STAR BOY: The door to Everything Else

  WES: The problem with parallel universes

  STAR BOY: The Learning List

  KIKI: Promises and popcorn

  WES: How not to relax

  STAR BOY: The truth about lies

  KIKI: Welcome to the oasis

  Tuesday: The problem with pings and pangs

  STAR BOY: KABOOM!

  WES: Spotting the shapeshifters

  KIKI: Coming up with a cover story

  STAR BOY: Side by side

  WES: How to fit in

  STAR BOY: Where it all began

  KIKI: Through alien eyes

  STAR BOY: A little like a memory?

  WES: Something strange brewing

  STAR BOY: Running on empty

  KIKI: Guess who?

  STAR BOY: A shy hi

  KIKI: The spiralling of the ‘likes’

  WES: Sort of wonderful

  Wednesday: The mystery of memories

  STAR BOY: Rattling and roaring

  WES: Pointless

  KIKI: Wide-awake bad dreams

  WES: The trouble with truth

  STAR BOY: The most terrible mistake?

  WES: Seven words

  KIKI: Playing at happy families

  STAR BOY: A kindred spirit

  WES: A hoax and a hack?

  STAR BOY: Masking

  KIKI: Like bubblegum about to burst

  WES: Out of the blue

  STAR BOY: The joy of being needed

  Thursday: Time to say goodbye…?

  STAR BOY: Unravelling

  WES: To be OK, or not to be OK

  KIKI: A duty to help

  STAR BOY: No more alien eyes

  About the Author

  Copyright

  The people of Fairfield hadn’t a clue.

  After the wild and sudden storms of the last few weeks, they were glad that everything seemed just about back to being boringly normal.

  And, as far as they were concerned, today was an ordinary, sleepy Sunday. In the autumn-leaved park, parents chatted as their children played. Naturally, they discussed the freak lightning bolt that had recently struck the local secondary school during its Open Evening, but then their conversation drifted to plans for outings to the annual funfair that would be setting up in the park any day now.

  Down by the River Wouze, teenagers slouched on the railings and gawped at the shattered windows of Riverside Academy and the huge, hazard-taped crater in the playground. Passing gum around, they discussed going to see the new blockbuster movie the following day, since school would still be closed (yay!).

  Wherever they were and whatever they were doing, the entire population of Fairfield would have been shocked – or more likely petrified – if they’d known what was going on right under their noses. Or up at the shabby parade of shops on Hill Street, on the north side of town, to be precise.

  Between the ordinary-looking laundrette and the faded grocer’s, the Electrical Emporium repair shop practically glowed with the secret stashed in its back room. Ever since Thursday’s supposed ‘lightning strike’, this unremarkable spot had become a safe haven for a very special visitor.

  A homeless alien. A Star Boy stranded far, far from his solar system…

  But there was one thing that the unwitting residents of Fairfield had in common with the stowed-away Star Boy. None of them – human or otherwise – had the faintest inkling about the urgent mission being planned on an unimaginably distant planet. A mission to rescue the lost alien – who didn’t technically want to be found.

  Or that the spacecraft and its crew were scheduled to arrive around teatime next Thursday.

  The back room of the Electrical Emporium was a messy muddle of things: a workspace where the temperamental kettles, toasters and PlayStations of Fairfield were fixed; a cosy living room with reams of semi-working fairy lights looped and dangling across every wall; a kitchen with a gurgling fridge and a sink full of often forgotten dishes.

  And now it also contained an amber-coloured alien, who was currently scrolling through the data lens he wore in his left eye.

  “Eight hundred and fifty-three thousand and two hundred seconds,” the Star Boy announced in the English of this particular Earth region. He sat, crouched and glowing, on a moth-eaten rug, staring at the four Humans seated around him: the tall girl (Kiki), the short boy (Wes), the child (Ty) and the young man (Eddie).

  “What are you on about?” asked his friend – and rescuer – Kiki.

  “I fell to Earth eight hundred and fifty-three thousand and two hundred seconds ago,” explained the Star Boy happily.

  “You mean ten days ago you crash-landed in our school playground,” suggested Wes, his other friend and rescuer. “That’s how people would say it.”

  “Ah, yes, I understand,” murmured the Star Boy.

  He found the dazzling array of Human descriptions for time both baffling and fascinating. It could be talked about as seconds or minutes or hours. Days and nights could be split into categories such as ‘dawn’ and ‘dusk’ and ‘lunchtime’.

  “And you’ve been here at mine for three days,” said Eddie, the owner of the Electrical Emporium and repairer of broken things.

  Eddie had been most kind. After the destruction of the Star Boy’s school-basement refuge, Eddie had given him shelter here. And, not only that, he’d dragged a small generator into the higgledy-piggledy back room, so that the energy-depleted alien could recharge.

  All the Star Boy’s rescuers had been so very welcoming. The Star Boy suddenly wished he could do something for them in return, but what? And then it occurred to him that, during discussions and comparisons of their respective worlds, he had not been able to adequately describe what his everyday environment looked like, as its constant electrical brightness was so unlike anything found on Earth. But, with his gaze falling on to the black rectangle of the TV box, the Star Boy wondered if he could transmute images of his home planet on to the screen.

  “Please may I have your attention?” the Star Boy requested of his friends. “I would like you all to watch this…”

  Ty bounced on the sofa beside Kiki. “What’s happening? Are you going to show us your alien SUPERPOWER?” he asked excitedly.

  Kiki shushed her brother as the Star Boy turned and stared intently at the TV that was balanced on top of the generator.

  “What exactly are you trying to do, Stan?” he heard Kiki ask, using the Human name they’d settled on calling him. The Star Boy liked it. He felt happy to be known as Stan – Stan Boyd, in fact. All of his life so far, the Star Boy had simply been referred to as a long line of unmemorable code.

  “I am attempting to download visual information from my data lens on to this primitive machine,” he explained, his intense concentration causing crackles to ignite inside and across his chest.

  “What sort of visual information? What are you going to show us, Stan?” Wes asked next.

  “My home,” said the Star Boy.

  Home: the place where someone lives. That was no longer true for Stan.

  His home was lost to him, gone. He’d never return. And the Star Boy was glad of it.

  When the Others had arrived – under cover of rumbling storm clouds and darkness – and lasered hi
s stricken craft to ashes, it had been terrifying. His former classmates had presumed him already dead, and in this final act they hoped to hide all evidence of his existence – but their actions had set him free.

  Free to experience something no other Star Boy ever had. Free to interact with members of a completely alien species. Which included Kiki and Wes, Ty and Eddie.

  Already he felt more of a kinship with this mismatched collection of Humans than with anyone back on his planet, where the concept of having ‘friends’ and ‘family’ was completely unfamiliar.

  “Your home…? You mean you’re going to show us your old HOUSE?” Ty asked.

  “Ty, Stan already told us there are no houses where he’s from,” Kiki reminded her little brother.

  “Yeah, children grow up in Education Zones,” Wes added.

  “And adults live in Work Zones, is that right?” asked Eddie, glancing around.

  “YES! That’s RIGHT!” barked Ty. “Kids don’t EVER know their mums and dads and brothers and sisters. That would make me SO sad! Does it make YOU so sad, Stan?”

  The Star Boy was too focused to respond. He had just sourced the perfect piece of imagery to show them: the occasion when the Absolute graciously visited his particular Education Zone.

  “Observe…” he muttered, lifting his spindly arm and pointing the thumb of his fin-shaped hand towards the darkened glass screen.

  As the familiar scene began to emerge, a word suddenly came to the Star Boy’s lips: the name of his planet. He was taken aback to find that the very sound of it, the saying of the word, caused a deep ache to radiate across his chest.

  Was it possible to be glad and sad at the same time?

  Emotions were discouraged among his species. And he had certainly never experienced two opposing emotions at once. Was this a Human trait? He’d have to ask his new friends. He knew he’d have many, many questions for them in the coming days and weeks – and months and years! – as he settled into his new life in the town of Fairfield, Earth.

  Wes exchanged a quick grin of excitement with Kiki over the top of her brother’s head. What they were all about to see would be an awesome first for humankind. A real-life glimpse of a real-life alien planet…

  How many scientists, astronomers and world leaders would give ANYTHING to be in my shoes right now? thought Wes. In the size seven trainers of an ordinary twelve-year-old schoolboy?

  He turned back to face the TV, his heart beating harder, faster as he noticed something beginning to form on the blackened screen. Pinpricks of dancing white pixels fizzing through the darkness.

  “When’s it going to START?” asked Ty, his loud whisper startling Wes.

  “Shh … any second,” Wes assured him, as he waited for the flickering, blindingly white interference on the screen to transform into an alien scene.

  “Well, it’s a bit BORING so far,” Ty grumbled, as he wriggled and squiggled between Wes and Kiki like a fidgety frog.

  “Ty! Don’t be rude!” Kiki shushed him.

  “But nothing’s happening, IS it?” Ty continued bluntly. “Can we go and see if the FUNFAIR’S arrived in the park?”

  “Ty, be cool. Stan’s concentrating,” said Eddie, who regularly looked after Ty and was well used to his bounciness.

  “But Stan will LOVE the funfair!” Ty protested. “It’s TOTALLY brilliant. It only comes to town once a year, Stan, and there are TONS of rides. I could take you on the ghost train!”

  The Star Boy was concentrating so hard on his efforts that he didn’t react to Ty’s offer, Wes noted.

  “That’s a great idea, Ty, but the funfair doesn’t open till Wednesday, does it?” Wes heard Kiki wearily remind her brother.

  “And what we’re about to see is going to be a million, zillion times better than any funfair ride!” said Wes, even though he’d never, ever been to a funfair, so could hardly comment. “Just give it a minute or two…”

  The Star Boy suddenly swivelled round to face them all, his inky-black eyes blink-blinking from side to side, his slitted nostrils fluttering.

  “Give it a minute or two? But … but it is already there!” he said animatedly, waving his thumbed fin at the TV behind him. “You cannot see the main thoroughfare by the Education Zone?”

  “Huh?” grunted Ty.

  “I think Stan means the road outside his school,” Wes translated, though he couldn’t see anything beyond the quivering static. Like Kiki and Eddie, Wes leaned forward, peering at the TV, searching for anything in the fractured nothing…

  “And there are the crowds of Star Boys, waiting to welcome the Absolute!” the Star Boy tried again, pointing madly.

  “The absolute what?” asked Wes.

  “The Absolute is … our leader, our guide, all-knowing!” the Star Boy replied, trying to convey who this VIP was. “It was a great honour that the Absolute came to our zone, to meet the Masters and Star Boys and observe the work that we do.”

  Wes watched as Stan turned back to the TV, tilting his head to one side, enraptured by what he – and sadly he alone – could see.

  “He sounds awesome, Stan, but we can’t make him out!” Wes told the Star Boy, disappointment dragging at his chest.

  “Her! The Absolute is of female origin!” the Star Boy said indignantly.

  “OK, we can’t make her out, or, well … any of what you’re trying to show us,” Wes continued, attempting a half-smile to soften the blow. “I’m sorry, but we can’t seem to see things the way you can.”

  The Star Boy’s glowing shoulders slumped in disappointment. Just as he’d struggled to translate the name of his home into a vaguely comprehensible Human term, it seemed that the images he was streaming couldn’t shape themselves into anything a Human brain could process.

  “I wanted very much to show you—” The Star Boy made the breathy sound that was the barely there name of his planet, but it was drowned out by a sudden shrill noise.

  RING-RING! RING-RING!

  “It’s my dad – that’s his FaceTime alert,” Kiki said hurriedly, digging her hand into the back pocket of her jeans.

  The old-fashioned ringtone was super loud. MUCH louder than it should have been coming from Kiki’s pocket. And the reason, Wes realized, was because the screen of Kiki’s phone was now visible on the TV, replacing the pixels that wouldn’t unjumble.

  “Kiki!” said Wes urgently.

  A man with a beaming smile – presumably Kiki’s dad – was looking straight at them, even before Kiki had retrieved her phone, even without her accepting the call.

  “Hello? Kiki? Ty?” he said.

  Wes sat statue-still in shock, same as everyone else in Eddie’s back room.

  Maybe Kiki’s dad will think the screen is frozen and hang up, he thought hopefully and uselessly.

  “Kiki? I can’t see you properly, honey,” said Dad, the sky blue of his kitchen walls visible behind him. “Something’s blocking my view … something fuzzy and orange. Have you got your finger over the camera?”

  Kiki’s eyes shot to the Star Boy, who was clearly the fuzzy orange something. Luckily, he’d realized that too and had flopped down on to the floor, just out of sight.

  “Yeah … sorry,” said Kiki, pulling her phone from her pocket and waving it about. Which was a mistake, obviously.

  “Wait – if THAT’S your mobile, what are you using for this call?” Dad asked, frowning from the TV.

  “Hello, Mr Hamilton!” Eddie called out. “We’re, er, watching you on Kiki’s iPad! It’s been glitching, so Kiki brought it over for me to take a look…”

  Until last Thursday, Kiki hadn’t thought much of Eddie. He was just the young geeky bloke who ran the repair shop across the road. Someone who helped Mum out by dropping off or picking up Ty from school on his rickety motorbike and sidecar. But, since the drama of last Thursday evening, when he’d saved all their lives, Kiki had done a massive turnaround in her thinking. Eddie had been a complete hero. He’d also accepted the reality of their alien friend without TOTALLY freak
ing out, which he had every right to do. And now he was proving to be a truly excellent liar in a crisis.

  “DADDDDD!” yelled Ty, jumping off the sofa and running towards the TV screen, skilfully sidestepping the Star Boy where he lay faceplanted on the rug.

  “Hey, Ty!” said Dad, beaming. “So, how are you guys?”

  “Riverside Academy got BLOWN UP last week,” Ty blurted out. “And so Kiki doesn’t have to go to school and that’s SO not fair!”

  “Yes, I know about Kiki’s school, Ty,” Dad said with a smile, amused by Ty’s usual drama. “So anyway, are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  “You can SEE STAN?!” Ty piped up, as he looked down at the sprawled alien. Only he wasn’t there, Kiki noticed with relief. The Star Boy must have paused his pulses and turned himself invisible.

  “WES! Dad’s talking about WES, Ty!” Kiki quickly corrected her brother.

  “Oh,” mumbled Ty. “I thought you meant you could see the ALIEN that we—”

  “So yeah, Dad! This is Wes!” Kiki firmly interrupted. She felt the sofa cushion next to her give way, as someone unseen settled themself in the space Ty had just vacated. “We’ve started hanging out at school. Haven’t we, Wes?”

  Kiki fixed a grin on her face and hoped she sounded convincing. Thankfully, Wes played along and nodded.

  Turning back to Dad, Kiki couldn’t help noticing his slight frown. Ever since the start of term, Kiki had boasted about the cool friendship group she was in, and here she was introducing a totally new friend. Still, now wasn’t exactly the time to explain about the big fallout with Lola, Zainab and Saffron.

  “Well, nice to meet you, Wes!” said Dad, shaking off his confusion. “Anyway, Kiki, Ty … I’m just calling with a bit of a surprise. I thought I’d come for a visit on Wednesday, since the funfair’s in town.”

  “YAY!” yelped Ty, punching the air.

  “That’s great, Dad!” Kiki said, breaking into a smile. Since he’d moved to Birmingham, they didn’t get to see him as much as they’d have liked.

  “It was actually Tasmin’s idea. When she mentioned it, I thought, yeah, let’s do it!” Dad explained.

  Kiki nodded. That was nice of Dad’s girlfriend. Going to the funfair had always been a family tradition. They’d even gone the year before, not long after Dad had moved out, which was sort of sad, but kind of lovely too, like it was proof that Mum and Dad still cared about each other. This year, Kiki had supposed it wouldn’t happen. She’d thought Dad might be too busy with his new life. But nope – he was coming! Dad, Mum, Kiki and Ty … they wouldn’t miss out this year after all!