Contents
1 – Secrets And Shadows
2 – Titanium White
3 – Hazelbrume
4 – Freaky Forensics
5 – The Meteorite Hunter
6 – Planetary Park
7 – Mystery And Mayhem
8 – The Silvery Spacecraft
9 – Wormhole Wynd
10 – Rocket Science
Epilogue
Every day on his way to school Ryley saw a young woman building a space rocket in her garden. Then one day she wasn’t there — and neither was the rocket.
Under other circumstances he’d have thought this was unusual. But since he’d moved to Oldenstone he’d learned to keep an open mind about the frequent electrical storms and meteor showers and unexplained flickering of street lamps when the moon was full. And it wasn’t just the storms. Oldenstone was a weird spacey town steeped in mystery and secrets. A woman building a space rocket in her garden in Cosmic Crescent and then suddenly disappearing wasn’t going to make headline news — not in a town that was largely populated by space scientists and astronomers, and those with a fascination for sparkly spacey stuff and great adventures.
He looked across the street at the house in Cosmic Crescent which was big and old like a craggy gothic mansion. It was bordered by a broken down fence and surrounded by an enormous garden with long grass, gnarled trees and thorny bushes. Even in daylight it seemed hidden in secret depths and shadows. It had always intrigued him. There was something about it that was…well, he couldn’t quite explain, but he had a feeling that strange things went on in there, things that were quite mysterious.
It was nearly nine o’clock in the morning, but he went over for a closer look.
If he hurried he’d still be in time for school.
He looked through a gap in the fence, searching the garden for any sign of the large, shiny, silver rocket. That’s when the smell hit him.
‘Phew!’ he spluttered. What was that horrible pong? It smelled like burning wax and rotten eggs, and there was a hint of purple smoke in the air.
Trying not to breathe too deeply, he peered beyond the trailing willow tree near the side of the house. Late October had pared the branches to the bone, and without the leaves, he could see into the depths of the garden. But there was nothing. No sign of the rocket, no silvery bits lying around, and there had been plenty of those when she’d been building it.
He stepped back from the stinky purple smoke. This was crazy. Rockets don’t just disappear. It had to be somewhere. Maybe Rafferty would know what had happened. As editor of the school magazine, Rafferty knew most things that went on, even if, like Ryley, he was just twelve years old.
Realising he’d be late for school he ran full pelt down the street. His dark hair flapped in the icy wind, and so did his navy blue blazer, making him look as if he was about to take off. The cold morning air blasted against his pale, angular face and the first frost of winter made the pavement a bit dodgy, but his gangly build navigated it without slipping and falling.
He finally skidded to a halt outside the gates of Hazelbrume School. With minutes to spare before the bell rang, he hurried to catch up with Rafferty outside the main entrance.
‘She’s gone — and so has the rocket,’ Ryley said, slightly out of breath.
Rafferty looked at him. ‘Who’s gone? And what rocket?’
Ryley sighed. ‘The young woman I told you about — the one who was building the space rocket in her garden.’
‘Oh, her,’ Rafferty said casually. He knew all the gossip and never seemed phased by extraordinary stories. He’d seen and heard things in Oldenstone that had, on occasion, made even his slicked–back auburn hair stand on end. A woman taking off on a space rocket just didn’t compete.
‘So where is she?’ Ryley said, frustrated at himself for not talking to her when he had the chance. Almost every day for months he could have stopped and asked her why she was building it, but he hadn’t had the nerve. ‘Did she take off on that silly rocket of hers or not?’
‘I thought you said the rocket was quite good,’ Rafferty reminded him. ‘You were very impressed. It was almost as high as the chimney on the roof of her house.’
‘Yes, but come on, it takes tons of power to launch a rocket. There wasn’t even a proper launcher.’
‘Are you sure she’s gone? She could’ve dismantled the rocket,’ said Rafferty.
‘It would take a week to dismantle that thing. It was huge. And now it’s disappeared.’
Rafferty spoke calmly. ‘I’ll ask around and see if anyone saw anything —’
‘A big puff of purple smoke,’ their friend Guy said, overhearing their conversation.
‘How big and how purple?’ said Rafferty.
‘Very big and eye–bogglingly purple,’ said Guy, without a hint of exaggeration. ‘And there was a huge streak of purple light. I tried to get a picture of it but it was too fast. I never got a chance.’ He jabbed at the buttons on his new phone. He got a new gadget for each birthday. Rafferty envied him rotten but Ryley wasn’t fussed. Ryley’s dad was an astrobiologist and had more gadgets than he knew what to do with, and it had made Ryley almost immune to the fascination of techno wizardry.
‘Could it have been a rocket taking off?’ Ryley said to Guy.
‘Looked like a rocket to me. You must have just missed it. Into orbit like crazy. It wasn’t very noisy, more like a fast, powerful — whoosh!’
‘Wow!’ said Ryley.
‘A bit smelly though,’ Guy said, screwing up his nose.
‘What sort of pong?’ said Rafferty.
Guy thought about it. ‘Like the smell you get when you blow out a candle — waxy and whiffy.’
‘I smelled something like that near the house,’ said Ryley, ‘but I doubt she took off using candle power.’
Guy shrugged, and his big round eyes peered out from under his floppy brown fringe. ‘Just saying what it smelled like.’
The school bell rang, ending their conversation. Everyone poured into their various classes. It wasn’t until science, just before mid–day, that Ryley met up again with Rafferty.
‘I keep wondering what happened to her. You’d think someone would know where the rocket went,’ said Ryley.
‘Maybe the rocket launch will get a mention in the newspapers tomorrow,’ Rafferty said, not sounding too hopeful. ‘It depends on where she lands.’
‘Has anyone else heard anything?’
Rafferty shook his head. ‘No, but see that new girl over there?’ He pointed to a girl with dark blonde hair a few desks away. ‘She’s supposed to be a whiz at rocket science, so I thought I’d interview her later about the candle wax smell. If it’s a good story, I’ll feature it in the school magazine.’
Ryley had already noticed the new girl. She’d arrived at Hazelbrume School two weeks ago. She was quiet and hadn’t yet blown anything up in science, which was a class record.
‘Her name’s Sylvie something or other,’ said Rafferty. ‘Ask her about the rocket. See if she knows anything.’ He gave Ryley a nudge.
‘I’m not talking to her by myself,’ Ryley protested.
Rafferty smirked. ‘You like her?’
‘I didn’t say that. I just don’t like talking to strange girls.’
Rafferty laughed. ‘Everyone’s strange at Hazelbrume. No one bothers.’
‘She’s new. And she looks…’
‘Yes?’
‘Nothing,’ said Ryley.
Rafferty smiled and gave him another nudge. ‘Pretty?’
‘I hadn’t noticed,’ Ryley mumbled, not sure whether he believed himself or not.
Rafferty laughed loudly.
‘Ah,’ said Mr Satern, the science teacher, ‘as Rafferty is in such a good mood, perhaps he’d like to demonstrate today’s experiment.’
Rafferty’s heart sank.
‘And Ryley can assist him,’ the teacher said with a grin. ‘This experiment is a corker!’
Ryley had visions of Mr Satern kissing his eyebrows goodbye for a month, again.
‘Right,’ said Mr Satern, who wasn’t really an awful human being, just very full of enthusiasm for teaching science, and completely convinced that he was brilliant at it. ‘Let’s see if we can make an atmospheric storm in a beaker.’
Rafferty poured a measure of orange liquid, which was something unpronounceable, into a bubbling beaker of lime green goo.
Then Ryley sloshed the two mixtures together as instructed.
Nothing happened.
Mr Satern told them to stand aside while he gave the mix a good rattling around in the beaker.
Luckily, Ryley and Rafferty were unharmed, and Mr Satern admitted that the minor explosion was completely his fault, and said his eyebrows had needed a trim anyway.
Class was dismissed early.
‘I need to get my camera to take a picture of Mr Satern,’ Rafferty said to Ryley. ‘Definitely a snap for the school magazine. It’s in my locker, so you’ll have to talk to Sylvie whatshername.’
‘I’m not talking to Sylvie whatshername,’ said Ryley.
A girl glared at them in passing.
It was Sylvie. She was heading out the class, her long blonde ponytail flicking back and forth with indignation.
Ryley turned to Rafferty, but he’d already dashed off for the camera.
After a few seconds of huffing and puffing, Ryley relented and hurried after Sylvie.
He caught up with her at the prickly cactus plants that looked like they were from another planet, and possibly they were.
‘Sylvie,’ he said. ‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’
She stopped. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her pink satchel that had lots of sparkly things dangling from the strap, and she was wearing a silver charm bracelet with glittering stars and planets on it. ‘What is it you want?’
‘Rafferty says you’re a whiz at rocket science, and I was wondering…there was a woman who built a rocket in her garden in Cosmic Crescent but now it’s gone. Someone said she took off in a big puff of purple smoke. Do you think this would be possible?’
Sylvie considered for a moment, and her blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Purple smoke?’
‘Yes, and there was a rotten smell of candles.’
‘Candle wax!’ Sylvie said, as if it suddenly made sense. ‘I live in Cosmic Crescent, and I saw her assembling the last few pieces of the rocket. I didn’t see her taking off but it sounds as if she used a special type of candle wax as fuel to propel the rocket into space.’
Ryley sneered in disbelief. ‘Candle power?’
‘Yes. A very special mix. She’s probably somewhere in lower Earth orbit by now.’
‘Where do you think she’s heading? The moon or Mars?’ said Ryley.
Sylvie shrugged. ‘Who knows? This is a weird town.’ She walked away.
He stood thinking about the possibilities before deciding on his plan. Tonight he’d go to the old house in Cosmic Crescent and search around the building. Apart from the woman who built the rocket, he’d never seen anyone near the house, and as she was probably in lower Earth orbit, he’d be free to look around. The garden was a mystery in itself. Tonight he’d find out what lay beyond the long grass and creepy looking trees where silvery things could be seen darting about on a moonlit night.
Twilight began to darken the sky shortly after Ryley had dinner with his dad who was in a mad rush to get back out to an astrobiology meeting. Someone had seen a fireball, a very bright meteor, striking the hills beyond the town, and his dad was excited at the prospect of investigating the new meteorite site. Ambrose was one of the most respected astrobiologists in the town.
‘I’ll probably be out quite late,’ said his dad, dashing around his study collecting everything he would need and a few extra bits and bobs just in case. He managed to stuff a telescope, night–sight binoculars, rolled up star maps, compass, powerful torch and gadgets galore into a rucksack along with a flask of tea and sandwiches.
Ryley stood at the door of the study watching him move at a whirlwind pace. The study was filled with books about science and space phenomena, and there were copies of old scrolls covered with unusual symbols and lettering. A large oak desk stood in the corner, piled high with data which was held securely from blowing away by a chunk of peculiar, green speckled rock. The rock sparkled under the light from a lamp that looked like the planet Jupiter — perfect for someone who studied life in interstellar space.
‘Don’t touch the computer tonight, Ryley. I’ve got it searching for something…’
Ryley nodded. He rarely used his dad’s computer which had a dazzling array of lights inside a transparent case. It had functions that even Ryley, who was quite good with computers, couldn’t fathom. Sometimes it seemed as if would take off with the amount of power coursing through it, and maybe one day it would. If and when this happened, Ryley didn’t want to be anywhere near it.
After his dad left, Ryley went up to his room and searched around for anything useful to take with him on his twilight adventure. As it was getting darker by the minute, he stuffed a torch and a camera into the pockets of his warm jacket, and ventured out, hoping to find singed grass and flattened weeds where the rocket had blasted off. This would surely confirm his suspicions.