The Jamie Drake Equation Page 4

  From across the landing, I hear Mum shout to Granddad to turn the TV down. There’s no chance of getting Charlie to sleep with the Champions League on at full blast. As the roar of the crowd quietens slightly, I can’t stop myself from thinking about how I made such a mess of things at the observatory.

  It’s funny, but just being there for that short time almost made me forget how much I was missing Dad. I felt closer to him somehow with all that talk about space and telescopes and stuff. It was like I was at Mission Control helping to keep him safe as he zoomed overhead in the International Space Station. Now there’s no way Professor Forster’s going to let me back in there after I spilt tea all over her laptop.

  As the fish and chips churn in my stomach, I stare at my Lego models on the shelf above my bed. Dad always brings me back a new set when he comes home from a trip away and then we build it together. There’s a Lego Big Ben, a Taj Mahal, the Eiffel Tower, Brandenburg Gate and even the White House. It’s like a Lego tour of the architectural wonders of the world, although most of my builds are only half finished as there’s never enough time to complete them before Dad has to go away again. But when he gets back from the International Space Station, Dad’s promised me we’ll get them all finished. He even says he’s got me the best Lego set yet for my birthday. I can’t wait to find out what it is.

  Sitting up, I grab hold of the Lego catalogue that’s on my bedside table. I’ve already marked most of the pages with Post-it notes to give my mum some birthday present hints, but as I start to flick through my wish list, I hear a strange buzzing sound.

  It’s like a low hum, almost too faint to hear, that seems to be coming from somewhere close by. The roar of the crowd from the TV downstairs drowns it out for a second, but as the attack breaks down and the crowd’s roar turns to a disappointed groan, I hear the buzzing sound again.

  I look out of the window, thinking maybe that it’s one of the planes from the nearby air force base, but the night sky is completely clear. Then I feel a vibration from my pocket and finally work out where the sound is coming from. It’s my mobile. I don’t know why I didn’t realise this before.

  Feeling puzzled, I pull the phone out of my pocket. Now, my mobile isn’t some top-of-the-range smartphone – it’s an old Motorola that used to belong to my dad before he got an upgrade and gave his old phone to me. It can receive calls, send texts, but Mum’s disabled the roaming internet. She says she doesn’t want me running up an astronomical phone bill. The only apps that I’ve got are a calculator to help me with my maths, a music player that’s still filled with Dad’s favourite tunes and this ISS tracker app that lets me follow the International Space Station as it flies around the world. When I’m really missing Dad, I can just click on this to find out exactly where he is.

  I look at the screen. Nobody’s phoning me. There are no missed calls, no new texts or notifications, but I can feel the phone vibrating in my hand, the buzzing sound even louder now.

  Then I see it. In the top-left corner of the home screen there’s a brand-new icon. It looks like a golden spiral and as I stare at it, this spiral seems to spin in time with the phone’s vibration.

  This is kind of weird. I don’t remember downloading any new apps. So how’s this got on my phone?

  Feeling curious, I tap the spiral icon, eager to find out exactly what it is. As I touch the screen, I yelp in surprise as the tip of my finger suddenly glows with a golden light. I feel a strange tingling sensation crawl over my skin like an electric shock in slow motion, but somehow without any pain. Pulling my finger away, the golden glow at the tip fades as quickly as it came. Goosebumps prickle my skin as I stare in disbelief at the disappearing glow.

  The phone is quiet now, the buzzing silenced as the spiral on the screen still shimmers with a golden light. Feeling nervous, I gently tap it again. But this time, nothing happens.

  What is this weird app? The only thing I can think is it must be some kind of virus. Maybe I accidentally downloaded it when I plugged in my mobile to Professor Forster’s laptop. If she knows how to hack the Hubble Space Telescope, I shouldn’t be surprised if there’s something nasty lurking on her hard drive. But who ever heard of a computer virus that can turn your fingertip into a torch?

  Before I can swipe on the spiral to try and find out more, I hear another roar from the TV downstairs, this one even louder than the last. As I brace myself for Mum to start shouting at Granddad again, the crowd’s roar suddenly snaps into silence, followed by a crash and the sound of breaking glass.

  Dropping my phone on to the bed, I race to the top of the stairs to find out what’s going on. Mum and Charlie are already there, my little sister dressed in her Peppa Pig pyjamas. Then from downstairs comes the sound of Granddad shouting a rather rude word.

  “What’s happening?” I ask as Mum clamps her hands over Charlie’s ears.

  Mum frowns.

  “I think your Granddad has thrown the TV out of the window.”

  8

  I can’t stop myself from yawning as Mrs Solomon hands out the maths test papers.

  It turned out Granddad hadn’t thrown the TV out of the window, but just tripped on the living room rug when he was trying to take a closer look at United’s first goal. Falling forward, he’d grabbed hold of the TV to try and save himself, but only managed to pull it off the wall. That was the sound of breaking glass that we’d heard and the swearing was when Granddad landed in this, hands first.

  So Mum, me and Charlie ended up spending three hours in A&E last night, waiting for the doctors to sew Granddad’s cuts back up. Charlie had spent most of the time curled up asleep in Mum’s arms, while Granddad tried to impress the nurses with his stories about Death Panda’s world tours and the time he’d ended up in hospital in Texas when a stage pyrotechnic set his spandex trousers on fire.

  Finally the nurses took Granddad away to shut him up and when he got back both his hands were completely wrapped in bandages.

  “Nothing serious,” the nurse told Mum, when she looked at these aghast. “He just needs to avoid any physical activities that will put a strain on the stitches.” The nurse turned back to Granddad. “Make an appointment with the nurse at your local surgery to take the stitches out in a week’s time.”

  “What about playing my guitar?” Granddad protested.

  “No guitar for a week,” the nurse replied sternly. “You need to give your hands time to heal.”

  So, even though I wasted most of Tuesday evening in a hospital waiting room, it wasn’t all bad news. I only wish I’d remembered to take my equations worksheet with me so I could have revised for this test.

  “Now, there’s forty-five minutes until break, so try to answer every question,” Mrs Solomon says, walking back to the front of the classroom as next to me Minty mimes throwing up all over her test paper. “And remember, no calculators. It’s important that you know how to balance these equations in your head. Don’t forget the Apollo 13 astronauts had to use mental arithmetic to work out the calculations they needed to get their damaged spacecraft back to Earth.” Our teacher puts on her most serious expression. “You never know when an equation might save your life.”

  Feeling doubtful, I look down at the first question on the sheet in front of me.

  Find the value of y. Show your work.

  (a) 23 + y = 16 x 4

  My heart sinks. I try to think back to what the revision sheet said about how to balance an equation, but all that really sticks in my head is what Professor Forster told me about the Drake Equation. How there could be ten thousand alien civilisations in our galaxy and we’re just waiting for them to pick up the phone.

  I’ve probably got more chance of a Martian calling me up on my mobile than I have of finding out the value of y. I wish I could use a calculator.

  At the front of the class, Mrs Solomon is now sitting behind her desk, starting to mark a huge pile of exercise books as the rest of the class begin scribbling their answers. From where I’m sitting, I’m almost out of
her sight.

  This gives me an idea. Keeping one eye on my teacher, I slowly slide my mobile phone out of my pocket. It might not get the internet without any wifi, but at least it’s got a calculator. I tap the screen to bring the phone to life.

  The first thing I notice is that the weird spiral icon is now taking up half of the home screen. It’s like it’s grown overnight, the golden spiral spinning silently as my jaw drops in surprise. With Granddad’s accident last night, I didn’t have the chance to find out what this is. I click on the spiral to try and drag it out of the way. But with a low buzz of protest, the icon stays fixed to the screen. I touch the icon again, pressing hard and swiping, all at the same time, but no matter what I do, it just won’t move at all.

  There’s a strange tingle in my finger, but I’ve not got time to worry about that now. I just have to concentrate on answering these test questions first. Tapping the apps list, I open up the calculator. If I want to find out the value of y, then I need to work out the other half of this equation. I tap in the sum,16 × 4, and press the equals sign. The answer appears on the screen straight away.

  0

  That’s not right. I might not be that hot at mental arithmetic, but even I know that sixteen times four doesn’t equal zero. I try to press clear, but the number just stays on the screen. Then another number appears next to this, followed by another and another – a whole string of numbers slowly filling the screen.

  0 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 55 89 144 233 377 610 987 1597 2584 4181 6765 10946 17711 28657 46368 75025 121393 196418 317811 514229 832040 1346269

  The numbers keep on coming, each one bigger than the last. And no matter which button I press they won’t go away. First that weird golden spiral thing and now this. My mobile phone has officially lost it.

  I jab my finger at the screen again, but the phone just buzzes angrily. Then I hear a pointed cough and look up to see Mrs Solomon staring disapprovingly in my direction.

  “Put it away, Jamie,” she says, the tone of her voice now suddenly stern. “No calculators or mobile phones are to be used in today’s test.”

  Next to me, Minty snickers.

  Feeling my face flush, I slip my mobile back into my pocket. My stupid phone won’t even let me cheat without giving me away. As Mrs Solomon keeps her gaze fixed in my direction, I turn my attention back to the test paper.

  But as I look again at the first question, something seems to click inside my brain. I feel a faint buzz behind my eyes, almost as if someone has flicked a switch on and, as I stare at the equation, I suddenly realise that I know the right answer.

  y = 41

  Quickly writing this down, I glance at the rest of the equations on the page. Moments before I thought these looked impossible, but now each one makes perfect sense to me. I can’t write the answers down quickly enough.

  Turning the test sheet over, I take a look at the last question.

  Now create your own equation.

  Usually this type of question totally throws me, but now I don’t even pause to think as the perfect equation pops into my head. It’s so simple, I can’t stop myself from smiling as I start to write the answer out.

  As the bell rings for break, my pen jumps in surprise leaving a trail of three dots at the end of the line. I feel like this test has only just started, but somehow it’s break time already. I shake my head. It feels like I’m waking from a dream.

  For the first time, I notice that Minty is staring at me in disbelief. Then I look down at our desk, my side of it covered with half a dozen pieces of paper, some of these spilling off the edge and falling on to the floor. I don’t know where these have come from, but every page is filled with hundreds of letters, symbols and numbers. A second ago everything seemed so clear, but now as I stare down at the scribbled pages they don’t seem to make any sense at all.

  “OK,” Mrs Solomon says, looking up as she closes the last of the exercise books on her desk. “Hand in your test papers to me and I’ll see you after break for your next Space Week challenge.”

  Feeling confused, I quickly gather up the scattered pages before Mrs Solomon notices them. Shoving these into my bag, I just keep hold of the topmost sheet, handing this in to my teacher as I head for the door.

  “Well done, Jamie,” Mrs Solomon says as she glances down at the test paper, her features creased in an encouraging smile. “It was good to see you trying so hard at the end. You see you don’t need a mobile phone to help you with your maths, do you?”

  I shake my head, trying to ignore the new buzzing vibration from the depths of my pocket. Whatever just happened, I feel certain it’s got something to do with the weird new icon on my phone.

  9

  I sit on the low brick wall, staring at my mobile. On the playground most of the boys in my class are staging a re-run of last night’s Champions League match. Usually, I’d be right there in the middle of the action, but I can’t stop watching this spinning spiral in the centre of the home screen. It looks even larger than before, its golden curve growing wider as the spiral unwinds. I think it’s trying to take over my phone.

  My dad says that when something goes wrong in space you need to “work the problem”. This means breaking a situation down step by step in order to find the right answer. Astronauts need to think about all the possibilities to help them to identify the correct solution. It could mean the difference between life and death.

  If I want to find out what this weird spiral is, that’s what I need to do now. I’ve got to work the problem.

  First step is to think about when it first showed up on my phone. It was only after I got back from the observatory that the buzzing started. This must mean I downloaded it when I connected my mobile to Professor Forster’s laptop.

  The next step is to think about what it is. The most logical answer is some kind of computer virus. This fits with some of the weird stuff my phone has been doing – the annoying buzzing sound, the way my calculator went screwy and started spitting out all those random numbers. A computer virus could do all those things, right?

  But then I think about the other strange things that have been happening. The way my fingertip lit up like a torch when I touched the spiral for the first time. And then how time seemed to disappear during that maths test. One minute I was writing out my own equation, the next the bell is ringing for break and my desk is covered with scrawled pieces of paper, every page filled with letters and numbers that looked more like Egyptian hieroglyphics.

  In my head, I can picture the pop-up message that appeared on Professor Forster’s laptop when I plugged my phone in. It said there was an incoming transmission from the Hubble Space Telescope…

  On the screen the golden spiral is still spinning, the phone silently vibrating in my hand. A crazy thought jumps to the front of my brain. What if I downloaded this from outer space?

  Professor Forster said she was using the Hubble telescope to search for signs of extraterrestrial life. What if this spiral is the signal she is searching for?

  The shape of a girl-sized shadow falls across me to interrupt this crazy train of thought.

  “How come you were acting so weird in class?” Minty says, as I look up to see her silhouetted in the sun. “One second you’re trying to cheat and then the next it looked like you were writing out the craziest sum in the world.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I just shrug my shoulders.

  Minty sits down on the wall next to me.

  As if annoyed by Minty’s presence, my mobile gives an angry buzz.

  “Text from your dad?” Minty asks.

  I glance down at my phone. In the centre of the screen the golden spiral is slowly revolving.

  I shake my head.

  “It’s just this stupid phone,” I say, showing Minty my mobile. “It keeps on buzzing for no reason at all.”

  “No wonder,” Minty laughs. “I mean, your phone is seriously ancient.”

  “It’s not that,” I reply, bristling slightly. “It’s just—”

/>   A football thuds into the wall next to us, missing Minty’s legs by a centimetre or two.

  “Oi!” she shouts out angrily. “Do I look like a goalpost?”

  Then with a flick of her hair, Minty turns her attention back to me.

  “Do you miss him?”

  “Who?” I say, slightly distracted by a strange tingling sensation I can now feel in my fingers.

  “Your dad.”

  Stuffing the phone in my pocket to try and escape its vibrations, I nod my head in reply.

  “Yeah, of course I do. I mean, I get to chat to him most nights and I can see him on TV and stuff, but it’s not the same as having him here.”

  Minty sniffs.

  “I know,” she says. “It’s the same for me.”

  Feeling puzzled, I shoot Minty a questioning look.

  “What do you mean? When was your dad on TV?”

  “He was on Crimewatch,” Minty replies. “Although it wasn’t really him.”

  My dad’s an astronaut. Minty’s is a bank robber. Space hero. Career criminal. It’s not the same at all. I’m just trying to think of the best way to tell her this when Minty asks me another question.

  “When’s your dad coming home?”

  “He lands back on Earth in nine days’ time,” I say. “Then he’ll have a ton of medical tests and press conferences to do, but I hope he’ll be home pretty soon after that.”

  Minty sniffs again.

  “My dad doesn’t get out for another ten years. I might have left home by the time he comes home.”

  The football thuds against the wall again, but this time Minty doesn’t say a thing.

  I imagine Dad being stuck in space for another ten years. On the ISS he travels all the way round the world every ninety-two minutes. One minute he’s over Great Britain, the next he’s racing across the Atlantic Ocean. When we speak on the phone Dad sometimes tells me what he can see through the Cupola window: deserts and lakes, cities and mountains, the landscape changing constantly as day turns to night and back again in the space of an hour. He makes it all sound so amazing, but the only sight I really want to see is Dad.