Six

by M. M. Vaughan

  “The point is—I haven’t got a choice. If you don’t want to hear it, just leave! Okay?”

  Michael thought about this for a moment. He grimaced, then sighed. “Fine, but don’t expect me to believe it.”

  “You don’t have to. Just let me listen.”

  The two boys made their way back to the sofa.

  “Sorry,” said Michael as he sat down.

  Solomon smiled. “It’s fine. A questioning mind is nothing to apologize for. Would it help if I explained how it works?”

  Michael hesitated, and Parker nudged him with his elbow.

  “Yeah. Okay. Why not?”

  “I’ll do that then. But first—if you’ll humor me for just a moment—let’s assume what I’m telling you is true so I can finish explaining to Parker and Emma what I know about what’s happened to their father. After that, I’ll go through the technicalities and you can ask as many questions as you like.”

  All three of them nodded.

  “Good. Where were we? Ahh, yes. So avection is a type of teleportation. It was invented about thirty years ago by a man called Warren Bowveld—”

  “That’s the name of my dad’s boss!” interrupted Parker.

  “Without the number. Your dad’s boss is Warren Bowveld III, son of Warren Bowveld Junior and grandson of Warren Bowveld Senior. But that’s where the similarity between the three men ends. Senior was a brilliant man of science; Junior, a man of numbers; and Warren Bowveld III . . . Well, I’m not sure anybody’s worked out where that man’s talents lie yet.”

  “Which one discovered SIX?” asked Parker.

  “That would be Senior,” replied Solomon. “Having discovered how to teleport, he began to send cameras out into space. A couple of years later, they found SIX.”

  “Why SIX?” signed Emma.

  “SIX is the first perfect number in mathematics. Do you know what a perfect number is?”

  “I do,” said Parker. “It’s a number that is the sum of its divisors. One plus two plus three equals six.”

  Solomon looked taken aback. “How old did you say you were?”

  “Twelve.”

  Solomon smiled. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised—you are your mother’s son, after all.”

  Parker felt himself turn red.

  “SIX,” continued Solomon, “is the only planet that has been found—to date—that can support human life. Apart from Earth, of course. For this to happen, a huge number of things have to be true—air, water, a solar system like ours, for example. The list is very long, and the chances of finding a planet that ticks all the boxes are miniscule. That’s why, when this planet was discovered, they named it after the first perfect number—because all the numbers aligned perfectly.”

  “Do people live there now?” asked Emma. Parker translated.

  “Some—not many though. It’s still very much under construction. For a long time after SIX was discovered, it was used just for research. Senior, you see, had no interest in making any money from his work, but his son, Junior, did not feel the same way. When his father died, Junior decided to make SIX into a luxury destination. Paradise for those who could afford it. He gathered together a group of very wealthy investors and set to work. Five years ago Junior died, and his son—your father’s boss—took over.”

  Solomon stopped.

  “I need a cup of coffee,” he said. “Anyone?”

  They all shook their heads.

  “Good,” said Solomon. He stood up slowly. “I’ve only got one mug.”

  He tightened the belt of his dressing gown and shuffled over to the small kitchen area in the corner of the room. Parker noticed that his gray ankles were visible between the gap of his red pajamas and open-backed brown slippers. He had been so distracted by everything that Solomon was telling them, this was the first time since sitting down that he had been reminded of Solomon’s strange appearance. It also reminded him of where they were. He looked up at the clock and realized that time was passing quickly.

  “How is my dad involved in all of this?” asked Parker.

  “Your father,” said Solomon as he dipped his spoon into the coffee jar, “was employed by Avecto to solve a very big problem for the company.”

  The kettle binged, and Solomon was silent again as he finished making his coffee. He walked back over with the steaming white mug and took his seat again.

  “Avection works perfectly the first time around. If someone is teleported, it will rebuild them on the other side exactly as they left, down to the holes in the socks they’re wearing. That’s why there are people up there working on building SIX . . . SIX . . . SIX . . .”

  Parker steeled himself for what was coming.

  “SIX . . . SIX . . . Alberta!”

  Solomon sighed. “I apologize; it really is exhausting. The people there now, however, can’t ever come back—at least not for the moment. Because avection—on humans—is an extremely complicated procedure. A body can be rebuilt once, but try it again and imperfections start to show up.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Parker.

  “It’s a bit like a digital image. Every time you distort a picture on the computer—say by rotating it, or making it small then big again, the file loses some of its detail. The more you repeat the process, the less detail the image retains.”

  “Interpolation,” said Michael.

  “Exactly. Very good, Michael,” said Solomon, clearly impressed. “Avection has the same problem. It’s fine for inanimate objects or small living things—you could teleport a car back and forth many times over before you’d ever see a difference—but humans are rather more complicated. There is so much information, as you can imagine, that while it’s perfect the first time, the second time is generally disastrous. In fact, with one exception, nobody has ever survived a second teleportation.”

  “Who’s the exception?” asked Emma.

  Parker and Michael, however, had already worked it out.

  “So that’s why you look like that?” asked Parker.

  “Ohhh,” signed Emma.

  Solomon nodded. “Yes. For reasons that I don’t have time to get into now—I was teleported to SIX and back again. I made it—but as you can see, not unscathed.”

  Michael groaned, and they all turned to look at him in surprise.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Parker.

  He looked pained. “This is so annoying. I really don’t want to, but I’m actually starting to believe him.”

  Solomon laughed. “It’s all true. You can check I haven’t painted myself gray if you’d like.” He held out his gray arm.

  Michael shrunk back. “It’s okay. Just keep talking.”

  “There’s not really too much more to tell you. Your father, Parker and Emma, was employed to work out a way of making multiple teleportations possible. And he wasn’t given a lot of time to do it. For years the investors have been asking to visit SIX so they can check on the progress themselves, but nobody is willing to take a one-way trip in case they get there and don’t like what they find. Bowveld’s been desperately trying to fix the problem, but he hasn’t been able to solve it—or rather, the people working for him haven’t been able to solve it. A couple of months ago the investors confronted Bowveld and told him that they were stopping all funding if he didn’t start getting them up to SIX—and back again—within a few months.”

  Parker thought back to Saturday and his father telling him that his presentation hadn’t gone well.

  “Dad didn’t do it, did he?”

  Solomon shook his head. “No. The investors came to see him perform a second teleportation, and it didn’t work. He called me on Sunday to tell me.”

  “How?” asked Michael with narrowed eyes. “There’s no phone here.”

  “Ahhh,” said Solomon. He reached behind him, dipped his hand into the back of his armchair, and pulled out a cell phone. He smiled.

  “Technology—it’s a wonderful thing,” he said. He put the phone back before continuing. “Bowvel
d was furious—but not quite as furious as the investors. He blames your father—even though he’s managed to do some wonderful work in the space of three weeks. The investors have given Bowveld a month to sort out the problem—or Avecto Enterprises is finished. This time—to make sure that he takes it seriously—they have told him that they want to see him being avected to SIX and back again, or they’ll have him arrested for fraud. Bowveld had to agree—he had no choice—and now he can’t risk your father not meeting the deadline.”

  “So what’s happened to him?”

  “Now that I don’t know—apart from what you’ve told me. If he’s gone to SIX—which it sounds like he has—I would guess that it’s because Bowveld wants to make sure your father fixes the problem.”

  “How would that help?”

  “Bowveld is a nasty piece of work. I’d guess he knows that if there’s one thing guaranteed to get your father to fix the problem, it’s knowing that he has to get back to you two.”

  Parker was too stunned to say anything. His mind was spinning, and he could see by how white Emma’s face had gone that it had had the same effect on her. It was left to Michael to speak.

  “If this is all true—and I’m not saying it is—but if it is, then what are they supposed to do?”

  Solomon shrugged. “You’ll have to wait. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but if your dad can fix it—he will.”

  Parker dropped his head. He felt sick. “And if he can’t?”

  Solomon leaned forward and put his hand on Parker’s hunched shoulders. “He will. I hate to say it, but Bowveld is right. There is no way your father won’t find a solution if he knows that you’re here. And he has help up there—he won’t be on his own to work it out. He has a month before the final presentation. Wait until then.”

  Parker looked up. “A month? What are we supposed—”

  Solomon put up his hand to quiet him. “I’ve just thought of something. . . .”

  He stood up and walked over to the window.

  “Solomon?” asked Parker.

  “One moment,” said Solomon, with his back to them. “I need to think.”

  Parker felt his wrist vibrate. He pressed down on Emma’s light.

  What’s he doing? asked Emma.

  No idea, replied Parker.

  They watched Solomon muttering to himself, then shaking his head, then muttering some more. Finally he turned around.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.”

  “What?”

  “Your father—he must have told you to come to me for a reason. Did he say anything else?”

  Parker shook his head. “He got . . . The call got cut off. Why?”

  “I think I know why he sent you to me; he knows that I’m the only person he can trust to pick up messages from him,” said Solomon.

  “You can talk to him?” asked Parker, shocked.

  “No. Not exactly. But it’s possible to send a message back in one of the shipments. There are weekly teleports to and from SIX. Avecto sends people from Earth to work there once a month, but there is a weekly shipment of cargo and data from Earth to SIX and back again once a week. If it’s hidden well enough, it’s possible to slip a message in there.” Solomon rubbed his forehead. “That’s definitely it—it has to be. You need to find Lina.”

  “Lina?” asked Parker. He knew exactly who Solomon meant—his father’s assistant—but it was a surprise to hear Solomon say her name. “How do you know her?”

  “I know her well. Or, should I say, I know her father well. We worked together at Avecto for many years. He left just before Junior came in and turned everything sour. He found out what happened to me when Lina started to work there and managed to find me a few months ago. In fast, he’s the reason I have the cell phone.”

  “But if you knew, why didn’t you tell my father what this place was like?” Parker could feel himself starting to get angry. “Why did you let him go and work there?”

  Solomon bowed his head. “It’s worse than that, Parker. I’m the one who told him about the problems they were having. That’s why he came to Avecto and offered to help solve the avection issue.”

  Parker couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Why? Why would he do that?”

  Solomon didn’t answer immediately.

  “I think,” he said finally, “that’s something your father needs to explain to you himself. Right now, we just get ahold of Lina.”

  “How?” asked Parker.

  “I’ll call Lina’s father—I can trust him. I’ll call you tonight and let you know more.”

  Solomon pulled out the cell phone from behind the armchair. “What number can I call you on?”

  Michael started to read out the numbers, and Solomon punched them in one at a time. It was only then that Parker noticed that Solomon didn’t have any fingernails.

  “Done,” said Solomon. He put the cell phone back and looked up at the clock. “You have to get out of here. We don’t need any more complications.”

  They all stood, and Solomon shook hands with Michael and smiled. “I’ll have to save the science bit for another time, I’m afraid.”

  “How convenient,” said Michael with a small shrug. The sarcasm from earlier, however, was gone. Parker suspected that Michael, like himself, might have started to believe Solomon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  True to his word, Solomon called that evening during dinner. As upsetting as it was to accept, they had all agreed—despite how farfetched it sounded—that Solomon really did seem to be telling the truth. It was a lot to digest for Parker and Michael. Emma, however, had believed Solomon from the outset. “You can tell from his eyes that he’s telling the truth,” she had explained. “Which one?” Michael had replied.

  “No phones at the table, Michael!” snapped Hilda.

  “Sorry, Hilda!” said Michael as they all jumped up. “Can we be excused?”

  Hilda looked over at the almost untouched plates of food on the table. “But you haven’t finished . . .”

  They didn’t hear the end of her sentence—they were already running out of the room. Parker took the ringing phone from Michael and answered. At the same time, he pressed down on his wrist so that Emma would be able to hear.

  “Yes?”

  “Parker?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Solomon.”

  “I know. Hi. Did you speak to Lina’s dad?”

  “Straight to the point—just like your mother. Yes, we spoke earlier, and he just called me back. He’s spoken to Lina.”

  Parker nodded at Michael. “He spoke to her,” he mouthed.

  “She’s very upset. She must be doing a good job of hiding it though—Bowveld doesn’t seem to suspect that her loyalties lie with your father.”

  “Did she find a message from Dad?”

  “No, no. The shipments of data from Avecto arrive on Thursdays—tomorrow. She’s going to have a look and see what she finds.”

  “How will she know what to look for?”

  “If he’s sent a message—she’ll find it. It’ll be marked with a symbol.”

  “What kind of symbol?” asked Parker, intrigued.

  “A diamond with a smiley face on it.”

  “Sorry?” asked Parker. He had expected Solomon to say a string of numbers or something a little, well, less silly.

  “It was the logo of the science team when your parents were my students. The Glad Stones—get it?”

  Parker and Emma smiled. Michael was watching them with a sulky face—clearly annoyed at being left out of the conversation.

  “And the message will be coded?” asked Parker. “Will Lina know how to work it out?”

  “I’m sure she could if I told her how to do it. But I think—for her own protection—it’s best that she doesn’t know any more than she needs to. I’ve told her to bring whatever she finds to you—if there is anything. I’ll talk you through it over the phone. Can you meet her tomorrow afternoon? She suggested the Pa
radise Mall—very apt, I think. Do you know it?”

  “Yes,” said Parker. “I know it. What time?”

  “That I don’t know—after she finishes work, I imagine. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from her. In the meantime I think you should both stay out of sight. You’re not going to school, are you?”

  “No,” said Parker. Much to Michael’s annoyance, he had exhausted his excuses with Hilda and would have to go in. Emma and Parker planned to hide in the tree house for the day.

  “Good. Keep the phone on you, and I’ll call as soon as I know anything more.”

  “Okay.”

  “And, Parker?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you both doing okay? I know this must be a very hard time for you two.”

  “We’re fine,” said Parker. He decided not to mention that Emma had gotten upset earlier, or his own dark thoughts that had been plaguing him. “Thank you for helping us.”

  There was a pause, and Solomon’s voice, when he spoke again, was tight and serious. “It’s the very least I can do, Parker. The very least. I just wish I could do more.”

  There was another pause. “Now,” said Solomon, “go and relax. Try to take your mind off things for tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Parker thanked him again and hung up the phone.

  * * * * * *

  The following day dragged on and on. Parker and Emma sneaked into the tree house, unnoticed by Hilda, and spent the day watching the television, the clock, and the phone. Though it was a fine day and they would have loved to visit Polly and ride around on their bikes under the clear blue skies, they didn’t dare risk being caught by Hilda. By the time Michael came back from school—annoyed and tired from the effort of avoiding Aaron all day—Parker and Emma were going out of their minds with boredom.

  “He didn’t call, then?” asked Michael.

  Parker and Emma shook their heads. “Still too early, I suppose,” said Parker.

  Michael groaned, echoing both his and Emma’s frustration at having to wait. He seemed as disappointed as the two of them, and Parker was once again reminded how lucky he’d been to find such a good friend just when he needed one most.

  Michael flopped down on the sofa beside them and joined them in the same cycle of watching the television, the clock, and then the phone again.