Getting out will be the easy part. The hard part will be not being found once he has left. Where would he go? How would he support himself? He’d seen Dateline NBC and he was not interested in being in kiddie porn. Well, some aspects interested him, others did not. According to the news, that is what invariable happened to young ‘uns when they ran away. You were caught in the porn industry and he didn’t really want this dad to go all George C. Scott crazy looking for him.
After watching the news, Albert knew he had to get far away from cities. A city would eat him up. He was, after all, very little. He may have been 15, but he didn’t really look it, however, that could change. He would simply grow a beard. This was another evolutionary dead end. Aridians could control the length of their hair at will. Albert realized that with a beard and a passport he could get on a slow boat to Japan. He knew he would be huge in Japan, or at least not tiny. Maybe he wouldn’t get beat up as much in Japan, a place that invented the ninja.
Albert now had a plan, all he had to do now was leave his family space ship, and to do that he would have to get past the defense robot.
Ah, the killer robot, the staple of K. Tuttle fiction.
Now like all good spaceships, The Sushi had a teleporter. Like most things in Albert's life, the teleporter was broken, in his mind, irreparably. Really a fuse had blown and Albert’s dad had just not gotten around to changing it. It was a bit of a joke around the house. Someone would ask Albert’s dad if he wanted to go shopping, he would say he needed to do this task or that small favor and after he did those things he still needed to fix the transporter. This went on for a couple months and developed to the point that he was getting genuine belly laughs when he added the teleported to the “honey-do” list.
Albert’s dad is not a man to casually throw away a good laugh. He loves the way his wife looks while laughing. She throws her whole body into a laugh. Her head would go and tears would form, rolling down her check, through her mascara. When Albert’s dad got on a comedic roll, Albert’s mom would get totally raccoon-faced. This happened every time he mentioned the teleporter. When her laughter stops, he will put the fuse in the transporter to fix it. Until then, he will enjoy his wife's laugh. Besides, just popping into a place is getting more and more difficult with the government tracking us though cell phones and RIF IDs and such. Albert’s dad can’t risk getting caught by using the tele all the time.
Albert never thought of any of this though, he just figured his dad was as incompetent in teleporter repair as he was at interstellar travel. He also never thought that gross incompetence might be genetic, or conversely that his startling intelligence might be genetic. He just thought he was better than everyone.
That is why he just made a fake passport, created a credit card with a one million dollar limit and created a bank account with 3 million dollars in it and walked out the front door