The Jamie Drake Equation Page 6

  “It’s not a story,” I protest, pulling out my mobile phone. On the home screen the golden spiral is frozen mid-spin. Taking the phone out of silent mode, I tap my finger against the screen, but nothing happens. No buzzing sound. No robotic voice. Nothing to prove that I’m telling the truth.

  “It is true,” I say, holding the phone up to the camera so Dad can see the home screen. “I think this spiral is the alien signal. I just need you to help me work out what it means…”

  On the TV screen, Dad’s frown deepens as he listens to my words.

  That’s when I realise. He doesn’t believe me.

  My voice trails into silence. I don’t know what else I can say.

  “Look, Jamie,” Dad replies, his face still creased in concern. “After Friday, the Lux Aeterna mission will be complete. The Light Swarm probes will be on their way to Tau Ceti and I can head for home. Why don’t you show me this ‘signal’ when I get back and we can work out what it is then?”

  Dad’s mission is all about searching for signs of alien life, so why won’t he believe what I’m saying? But before I can say anything else, Mum walks back into the living room.

  “Hayley’s helping Charlie get dressed,” she announces as she sits back down on the sofa. “She wants to show you the fancy dress spacesuit she’s going to wear to nursery after your spacewalk on Friday.”

  While she waits for Dad to get the message via the satellite relay, Mum turns towards me.

  “Could I just have a word with your dad on my own for a bit, Jamie?” she asks. “We’ve got a few things we need to discuss in private.”

  Still feeling let down by Dad’s reaction, I nod my head.

  “I’ve got to go now, Dad,” I say, getting up from the sofa. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Bye, Jamie,” Dad calls out, holding up his hand like he always does. “And have a great birthday on Friday. I’ll be thinking of you, son.”

  I press my hand against his on the TV screen, trying my hardest not to cry. I wish he was home right now so I could talk to him properly.

  It’s strange but as I close the door behind me, I can only hear silence. It’s as though Mum’s waiting until the coast is clear until she talks to Dad. Thinking about it, it’s not really fair that she’s hijacked our family video call just to have a private chat with Dad. What’s so private that they can’t talk about it in front of me anyway? And then the answer jumps into my head – my birthday present.

  Dad said he’s got me the best Lego set yet, but how’s he going to get this to me from up there in space? Standing completely still, I press my ear to the door. If I’m going to have a birthday surprise on Friday – I want to find out what it is.

  For a second, I still can’t hear a thing. Then the sound of Mum’s voice comes through the door.

  “I got the letter from your solicitor, Dan.”

  There’s another two seconds of silence and then I hear Dad’s reply.

  “Well, we both agreed it was for the best. I thought it would help to get things moving.”

  Mum laughs, but from where I’m standing behind the door, this doesn’t sound like a happy laugh. I’m starting to feel confused. What’s this got to do with my birthday present?

  “You’ve always got to be first, haven’t you?” she says. “Even when it comes to getting a solicitor.”

  I still don’t know what they’re talking about. Being an astronaut is a dangerous job. There are tons of things that can go wrong in space and Dad says you’ve always got to be prepared for the worst. Maybe this letter from a solicitor is to do with Dad’s will – making sure that Mum, Charlie and me are taken care of if anything goes wrong. Not that it will. He’ll be back home safe next week.

  But it’s what I hear Dad say next which rips the ground from beneath my feet and sends my head spinning.

  “Sixteen years of marriage is a long time, Ally. Long enough to work out that we both want different things. Let’s try and keep this divorce civilised, like we both agreed.”

  I stand there completely frozen, my ear still glued to the door. I can’t have heard this right. Mum and Dad love each other. How can they be getting divorced?

  “When do you want to tell Jamie and Charlie?” Mum asks.

  There’s another long pause. Two seconds that feel like a lifetime to me.

  “When I get back home,” Dad says. “We’ll tell them together.”

  Behind me, I hear the sound of my little sister stomping down the stairs.

  “Look, Jamie,” Charlie yells. I turn to see a mini-astronaut standing at the bottom of the stairs. Charlie is dressed from head to toe in a white jumpsuit with silver gloves and a big rocket badge. Her excited face beams out from her shiny space helmet. “I’m an astronaut.”

  Behind her, Hayley peers at me with a puzzled look on her face.

  “Are you OK, Jamie?” she asks. “Has your dad had to end the video call?”

  “No,” I say, quickly turning away. “Mum’s still talking to Dad. I just need to get some fresh air.”

  As Charlie rushes into the living room to show Dad her spacesuit, I head for the kitchen. Opening the back door, I step out into the garden, staring through my tears up into a sky full of stars.

  From the open barn door comes the thunderous sound of drums, Granddad’s snare hits and cymbal crashes soundtracking the confusion that’s now swirling round my head. Nothing makes any sense. I thought Mum and Dad were getting on better now. They’ve not argued since Dad went into space. I thought they still loved each other. How can they be splitting up?

  Ninety degrees above the horizon I see what looks like a bright star moving quickly across the sky. Automatically, I reach for the phone in my pocket, ready to check whether it’s Dad passing overhead on the ISS. But on the home screen I see the golden spiral, still frozen mid-spin, and I remember that I’ve got something else to worry about.

  And if Dad doesn’t believe me, I know someone who will.

  13

  “Show me,” Professor Forster says, leaning forward in her chair.

  Above her head, the opening in the observatory dome is now closed, the huge telescope looking up only to see a rectangle of rust.

  Feeling kind of nervous, I pick up my mobile phone. On the home screen, the golden spiral is still stationary, the phone completely silent. When I tried to prove to Dad that I was telling the truth, Buzz kept quiet. I tap my finger against the spiral icon, hoping that the tip of my finger will start glowing with a golden light. Nothing happens.

  Determined not to give up, I hold the phone in front of my mouth, the same way Captain Kirk uses his communicator in the Star Trek films.

  “Buzz, are you receiving me?” I ask, my voice echoing around the deserted observatory. “It’s me – Jamie Drake.”

  There’s no reply.

  Looking up, I see that Professor Forster’s lips are pursed in a smile. She’s trying her hardest not to laugh. I feel a sudden surge of anger welling up from deep inside.

  “I’m telling the truth,” I snap. “There’s an alien signal on my phone. I’ve heard it speaking to me.”

  The astronomer shakes her head.

  “Jamie, even if you have accidentally downloaded an alien transmission from the Hubble Space Telescope – there’s no way you’d be able to understand this. We don’t know what language an extraterrestrial civilisation might use, but it certainly wouldn’t be English.”

  I try and fight down the frustration that’s boiling up inside me. Professor Forster doesn’t believe me – just like Dad.

  Lowering my gaze, I glare at the spiral on the mobile screen. Everything started going weird the moment this appeared: the strange voice buzzing from my phone, that alien picture that appeared on my desk out of nowhere, even those equations that I solved without a second thought. That’s when I remember something else.

  Tapping the apps list, I quickly open up the calculator.

  “It’s not just the voice,” I explain. “When I was doing my maths test, I tried t
o use my calculator app to work out a sum. But instead of giving me the right answer, my phone just started spitting out all these random numbers instead.” The list of numbers is still frozen on the calculator screen. “But what if they’re not random? What if they’re coordinates showing where the signal was sent from?”

  With a doubtful frown, Professor Forster takes the phone as I thrust it into her hand. But as she looks down at the numbers on the screen, her expression changes to one of disbelief.

  “Am I right?” I ask excitedly. “Are they coordinates? Is this Buzz’s address in outer space?”

  Professor Forster shakes her head.

  “These aren’t coordinates,” she says. “This is the Fibonacci sequence.”

  “The Fibber–what?”

  “The Fibonacci sequence is a number pattern where each number in the sequence is the sum of the previous two.”

  Placing the phone on the table between us, Professor Forster points to the topmost line of numbers.

  0 1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 55 89 144 233 377 610 987

  “Zero plus one equals one. One plus one equals two. One plus two equals three. Two plus three equals five. You can see as you add the previous two numbers, this gives you the next number in the sequence.” She points further along the line. “Fifty-five plus eighty-nine equals one hundred and forty-four. Eighty-nine plus one hundred and forty-four equals two hundred and thirty-three. One hundred and forty-four plus two hundred and thirty-three equals three hundred and seventy-seven.”

  She looks up at me, her eyes shining with excitement.

  “This is not some random list of numbers, Jamie. We see the Fibonacci sequence all around us in the universe. The number of petals on a flower follows this pattern as do the way branches grow on a tree. Generations of honeybees in a hive, the patterns on a pine cone, even the proportions of the human body match the Fibonacci numbers in strange and fascinating ways.” Professor Forster grabs hold of a pen and starts to draw a series of connecting squares on the paper in front of her, each one growing larger than the last. “I can even show this pattern visually. If I use the Fibonacci numbers for the dimensions of these squares, I can then draw a line that joins them together.”

  She uses her pen to trace a line from the centre of the page. As I watch this curving line spiral round, connecting the corners of each square in turn, the picture fits with a click in my mind.

  “This is called the Fibonacci spiral,” Professor Forster explains, “and this precise form can be found in the shapes of seashells, hurricanes, even spiral galaxies.”

  As she lifts her pen from the page, the astronomer stares at the spiral she’s just drawn. With a flicker of recognition, she starts to reach for my mobile, but I’ve already snatched up the phone from the table, swiping back from the calculator app to reveal the golden spiral on the screen. My eyes flick between this and Professor Forster’s drawing. The two spirals are exactly the same.

  “Do you know what this means?” Professor Forster breathes. “Many scientists believe that if an alien civilisation wanted to communicate with us they would choose a universal language that we share. Whatever planet we live on, we can all look up at the sky and count the stars. One plus one equals two, everywhere. Maths might be the language that aliens use to ‘talk’ to us – sending this Fibonacci sequence could be their way of letting us know that the signal has been sent by an intelligent species.”

  “You mean you believe me?” I ask, unable to tear my eyes from the golden glow of the Fibonacci spiral on my phone. “You really think that Buzz is real?”

  “I’m not saying that you’ve spoken to an alien,” Professor Forster replies, holding up a cautionary hand. “The vast distances between Earth and even the nearest stars outside of the solar system mean that any kind of instant communication would be impossible. We can’t have a cosy chat with E.T. on the phone if he’s fifty light years away. But if this signal is of extraterrestrial origin, the implications for the human race are profound. This would be the first proof that we are not alone in the universe.”

  “So what do we do?” I ask, barely able to hide my excitement.

  Professor Forster holds out her hand for my phone.

  “We bust open your mobile and take a look inside. If this signal has been downloaded on to your SD card, I need to investigate this.”

  I jump in surprise as the phone begins to vibrate in my hand. Glancing down I expect to see the spiral spinning in time with this insistent buzzing sound. But the golden icon is still frozen, stuck motionless on the screen. Instead I see a new text message notification – a painful reminder that aliens aren’t my only problem.

  Where are you? Mum x

  It’s time for me to go.

  14

  When I get back, Mum’s waiting for me at the kitchen table.

  “Where did you disappear to?” she asks, the sharp tone in her voice telling me I’m in trouble. “I’ve been worried sick. I sent you a text half an hour ago, but didn’t get any reply. What’s the point of you having a phone if I can’t get hold of you?”

  I don’t say anything, but just push my mobile down deeper into my pocket, out of sight. Professor Forster wanted to keep hold of it to find out more about Buzz, but I just did a runner from the observatory before she could take it off me. It’s my phone.

  I walk straight past Mum, heading for the fridge to see if there’s anything left to eat.

  “Jamie!” Mum says, sharpening the sound of my name so it ends with an exclamation mark. “I’m talking to you—”

  “But you’re not,” I snap, turning round to face her at last. “Not about the things that really matter – like the fact you and Dad are splitting up.”

  Mum looks shocked, her hand rising to her face almost like a shield.

  “You heard us talking on the video call,” she says, her voice suddenly drained of volume so I have to strain to catch the words. “About the divorce.”

  I nod my head, trying to fight back my tears.

  “Oh, Jamie,” Mum says, getting up from her chair and reaching out to give me a hug. “I didn’t want you to find out this way. Your dad and I wanted to tell you together.”

  I don’t want a hug. I just want answers.

  “What does it matter how I found out?” I explode. “You’re still getting divorced!”

  “Jamie, don’t shout,” Mum says, trying to keep her voice calm. “Your granddad’s upstairs giving Charlie a bath. I don’t want you upsetting your sister.”

  I think about my little sister and how she’s going to feel when she finds out the truth about Mum and Dad. A horrible thought creeps into my head.

  “What’s going to happen to us?” I ask, wiping my eyes with the edge of my sleeve. “Who are Charlie and me going to live with?”

  “Well, these things are all to be properly decided,” Mum says. “But your dad and I both think it makes most sense for you and Charlie to stay here with me at Granddad’s.”

  I feel like I’ve just been punched in the stomach.

  “But Dad’s coming home next week,” I protest. “Where’s he going to stay?”

  “Your dad’s going to have to follow an intensive rehabilitation programme to get him used to life back here on Earth,” Mum explains. “For the first month, he’ll be living in special quarters on the air force base. It’s just half an hour’s drive from here.”

  I think about all the different air force bases we’ve lived on as a family – never staying in one place long enough for me to make real friends. Dad’s training trips taking him halfway round the world, away for weeks at a time. As I try to make sense of what’s happening to us, all I can see inside my head are pictures of Dad saying goodbye.

  It was my job to keep an eye on the Drake family solar system and make sure that everything kept spinning safely until Dad got home. What did I miss?

  “Your dad still loves you, Jamie,” Mum tells me, taking hold of my hands in her own. I can feel her fingers trembling next to mine, her empty words hanging
in the air between us. “We both do. You know that, don’t you?”

  I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes again.

  “I don’t care,” I say, snatching my hands away. “I just wanted you to tell me the truth.”

  Slamming the door behind me, I race up the stairs, two at a time. I need to get inside my room before I start falling apart.

  15

  On the home screen of my phone, the golden spiral is still frozen mid-spin and I’m starting to wonder if Buzz will ever speak again. I’ve got so many questions racing round my head, but the one I really want to know the answer to is the one it’s impossible to ask. The only question that might explain why my family is falling apart. I can barely even whisper this to myself as I sit here alone in the darkness of my room.

  “Why doesn’t Dad love us any more?”

  As if in answer to my question, the phone suddenly vibrates.

  “Who is Dad?”

  I stare at the screen in total astonishment. The golden spiral is spinning again as a metallic voice echoes from the speaker. Professor Forster said this was impossible. Buzz is back and it’s talking to me.

  I shake my head, trying to make sense of how this can be happening as my thoughts tumble and whirl.

  “Who is Dad?” Buzz repeats again, the robotic voice sounding softer, almost human now.

  I take a deep breath. If this really is an alien civilisation on the other end of the line, I’ve got to make sure I give the right answer. The fate of the human race could depend on what I say. It could mean the difference between invasion and an invitation to join the Galactic Federation.

  With a trembling finger, I tap on the phone screen to bring up my camera then flick through the gallery of pictures until I find the one I’m looking for.

  “This is my family,” I tell Buzz. “Mum and Dad, Charlie and me.”

  In the picture Dad is standing with one arm around Mum, smiles beaming from both their faces as a fairytale castle sparkles with light behind them. I’m holding Dad’s other hand looking up at the camera with a huge grin as Mum cradles baby Charlotte in her arms. This photo was taken at Disney World in Florida on Dad’s day off from his training on the Light Swarm launch simulator at the Kennedy Space Centre. It’s my favourite picture of us all together.