DAD AND I went out back and did some jujitsu training-and savate, tae kwon do, taekkyon, aikido, judo, and glima for good measure-and held a brief tactical planning session afterward.

He’d decided that when you boiled it right down, all that Number 21 had done to me was seize the advantage by using the element of surprise.

If there is a kryptonite for me, then there you have it: because my powers are directly linked to my imagination, I have to be thinking clearly in order to make the best use of them.

By hitting me with that concussion-inducing shockwave, Number 21 had been able to keep me disoriented and unable, for instance, to visualize any weapons-or summon my alien-butt-kicking friends.

“Hey, Mom,” I yelled. She was sitting on the back porch reading a book, The Elephant-Keeper’s Secret Kite, that I’d picked up for her. Have I mentioned that I love elephants and that it’s a little-known fact that they originated on my home planet?

“What’s for dinner?” I asked.

“I have no idea,” she replied. “All we have here is a tin of caviar I found in the mailbox along with a lot of other old junk mail.”

“Caviar?” I asked. “As in fish eggs?”

“A lot of people consider it a delicacy, Daniel,” she reminded me, holding out the package. It was still in its clear plastic mailer, addressed to “Female Resident.”

I tore open the bag and read the note that came with the can:

A gift to the women of Holliswood from the KHAW news team, in gratitude for your kindness to visiting film producers. Bon appétit!

Caviar from the local news station? Well go ahead and chalk up mystery number 112 for me to solve already. And, while you’re at the board, why don’t you put me down for what is really only my second bad pun ever-although in this case I think you’ll agree it’s completely unavoidable-because there was something very fishy going on in this town.