Beehive Corner

Quick! Get up! Grab your hat! Tie up your coat! Tuck in your tail! It’s not the first time the slipstream has squeezed you into Adelaide through a surprised human’s nostril, and – fingers crossed – it won’t be the last.

You instinctively shake off the slime, but can’t help wondering who you are… Riding the slipstream from the Earth’s upper atmosphere does that to you – it’s all that squishing and squashing – but once everything’s had a chance to snap back into place it doesn’t take you long to remember.

You’re the Captain! A Kleptillian from the Never Galaxy. Entrepreneur and Earth tour guide extraordinaire!

You offer wealthy alien species the ultimate Earth immersion experience – Earth Unplugged – and business is booming.

You see your ship, cleverly disguised as a tram, coasting south along King William Street. It followed you through the slipstream. Through its windows you see the shadowy silhouettes of antennae, trunks and tentacles as your tourists sway to the Earthly beats of your hired musician, the Blue Planet Bandit. As you watch, a lone eyeball pops through a roof vent of the tram and rolls about, keenly observing the fierce lions that guard the heritage Colonial Mutual Life Building, before returning inside.

You gaze up Rundle Mall, a comforting hive of activity, your home away from home. You recall when it was closed to human vehicles back in 1976, indeed, having been the Never Galaxy Ambassador to the city for 150 years, you know Adelaide like the scales on the back of your hand.

Your Ambassadorship not only laid the foundation for your thriving tourism business, but whet your appetite for fencing Earth artefacts on the lucrative intergalactic black market. You are momentarily distracted by the intricately laced wings and pointed black stinger of a highly collectable item poised atop the landmark Beehive Corner Building. If you believe the local buzz, it’s made of pure gold…

But now’s not the time to get distracted.

You’re here for two reasons: ‘We Hide’ and ‘You Seek’, the names used by the Moodling tourists who failed to return to your ship on time. They may have left as small humans, but their infuriating ability to change shape when the mood strikes will push you to your limits.

Giving your clients the freedom to roam the city has always distinguished your tours from the rest, but you’re starting to wonder if Moodlings will be the third species banned, right after the roach-infested Rhapsodillians and the belch-prone Cloogs.

You have a game of Hide and Seek to play if you and your ship are going to return home by your curfew and avoid the catastrophic consequences of a confrontation with the Narl: the big, blue guardians and law-makers of the Never Galaxy. If your ship isn’t back on time…

Moon rocks! There’s no mistaking the blue hue of the two lifeforms who just shot through that unsuspecting human’s nostrils. You watch them ricochet off the window of Haigh’s Chocolates and roll across the Mall towards you. You have no time to waste.

Do you:

Venere di Canova Statue: Hot-foot it across North Terrace to the Venere di Canova statue where one of your better-behaved tourists claims to have last seen the Moodlings.

Or

The Sphere’s Sculpture: High-tail it east up Rundle Mall to the Mall’s Balls where one of your more reliable contacts claims to have valuable information that will expedite your quest.