It took us all a while to recover from the kidnapping. Lenore had wanted to call the police, but Burbank and I didn’t want to involve the authorities on a matter about aliens. We finally convinced her that she’d hallucinated the whole thing. We were pretty quiet the whole trip to Dublin. Burbank got to work on assembling the alien communicator. I’m a bit useless in engineering, I suppose. After a few hours of Burbank tinkering, my curiosity got the better of me, and I went to his hotel room to watch him put it together. It’s amazing the way he can figure all of this stuff out.
Burbank had mixed the black seaweed and grape jelly together in the jar, which he had stuck two wires into. He’d connected the other end of the wire to the bike helmet with the clothes pins from the French woman. There was some more wire connecting the helmet to his real-o-meter. I watched him solder the antenna to the dish from the Gregor award. Then he melted the plastic of the helmet and welded the dish on top. I asked him where he got the soldering iron, and he said the front desk rented out all sorts of equipment.
Finally, he took the gondolier’s batteries and put them into the real-o-meter and turned it on.
I literally saw the spark shoot through the wire, up to the helmet, and into the jar. The jelly seaweed glowed a hot green, and the metal dish began to turn. Burbank shot me a devious grin. “All we need to do now is get higher.”
No comments:
Post a Comment