Back To Earth. Danilo Clementoni
recording data and transmitting it periodically back to base.â He pointed out some details of the antenna in the hologram that hovered in the room.
âWe probably flew by too quickly for it to record our presence,â ventured Azakis.
âNot only that, old friend. Its on-board instruments are programmed to analyse objects at distances of hundreds of thousands of kilometres. We passed so close that, had we not been in a vacuum, our slip stream would have left it spinning like a top.â
âAnd now that weâre further away, do you think it might reveal our presence?â
âI really don't think so. Weâre much too small and quick to be of any interest to them.â
âGood,â said Azakis. âAt last we have some good news.â
âI tried to analyse the data transmission method on the probe,â continued Petri. âIt doesnât seem to be equipped with âlight vortexâ technology like ours. Itâs still using an old frequency modulation system.â
âIsn't that the one used by our predecessors before the Great Revolution14 ?â asked Azakis.
âExactly. It wasnât too efficient, but for a long time it enabled us to exchange information throughout the entire planet, and it definitely helped us get to where we are now. "
Azakis sat down in the command chair, chewing his finger in a moment of reflection, then he said âif this is the communication system currently in use, maybe we could also pick up some transmission of theirs.â
âAre you hoping to see what porn films theyâre making?â joked Petri, sticking his tongue out to the left of his mouth.
âCut out the bullshit. Instead, why not try and adapt our secondary communication system to this technology? I want to be as well-prepared as possible when we get there.â
âI understand. I expect Iâll have to spend several hours in that cramped compartment.â
âWhat about getting something to eat first?â suggested Azakis, anticipating his friendâs next question, which, he imagined, would have followed soon after.
âThatâs the first sensible thing Iâve heard you say today,â replied Petri. âAll this excitement has given me an appetite.â
âOkay Weâll take a break, but itâs my turn to decide what we have. That Nebir liver you chose yesterday got stuck in my poor stomach so long that it seemed to be taking root.â
Ten minutes later, while the two travelling companions were still busy consuming their meal, a young engineer in the NASA Mission Control room on Earth was picking up a strange alteration in the course of the probe he was monitoring.
âSir,â he said into the microphone attached to his headset, which hung a few centimetres from his mouth. âI think we may have a problem.â
âWhat kind of problem?â the engineer in charge of the mission asked anxiously.
âFor some unknown reason Juno has suddenly shifted slightly off its set course.
âShifted?â By how much? Due to what?â Already he was feeling a cold sweat. The cost of this mission was exorbitant. Nothing should be going wrong.
âIâm analysing the data right now. The telemetry is indicating a deviation of 0.01 degrees with no apparent explanation. Everything seems to be functioning normally.â
âIt could have run into a rock fragment,â ventured the older engineer. âIt's not actually that far from the asteroid belt.â
âJuno is pretty much in Jupiterâs orbit now, and there shouldnât be any,â said his younger colleague, tentatively.
âSo whatâs happened then? There must have been some kind of malfunction.â After a few moments of reflection, he said, âI want a couple of checks run on all on-board instruments. I want the results on my computer in five minutes,â he ordered, closing communication.
The young engineer was suddenly aware of how much responsibility he had been given. He noticed his own hands trembling, but chose to ignore them. With the help of a colleague, he carried out a differentiated check-up on the probe, keeping his fingers crossed. The computer began to run the programme controls sequentially, and within a few minutes the results of the analysis appeared on the screen.
Check-up complete. All instruments operational.
âEverything seems fine,â remarked his colleague.
âSo what the devil happened? If we donât find anything in the next two minutes, the chief will have both our asses.â Feverishly he began typing commands into the keyboard in front of him.
Nothing. Everything was working perfectly.
He absolutely had to come up with something and fast. He began to drum on the desk with his fingers. He continued for about ten seconds, then decided to resort to the first unwritten rule of the workplace conduct manual: never contradict the boss.
Switching on the microphone, he said âChief, you were right. It was a small Trojan asteroid that sent the probe off course. Luckily, it wasn't a direct hit. It just passed close by. Evidently, the asteroid exerted a small gravitational attraction on Juno, making it alter its course slightly. Iâm sending you the data now,â he said, holding his breath.
After an interminable length of time, the proud voice of his superior reached his headset. âI was sure of it. My dear boy, you canât out-do the instincts of an old salt.â Then he added, âTry to activate the engines on the probe and correct its course. I wonât accept any errors.â So saying, he switched off. A moment later, he came back, adding âNice work, son.â
The young engineer noticed that the blood had begun to flow around his body once again His heart was beating so hard that he could hear his pulse in his ears. After all, this could actually have been the correct explanation. Turning towards his colleague, he gave him the thumbs up. The other relaxed, and winked at him. They were in the clear, at least for the time being.
Nasiriyya â After dinner
The recording system reactivated with a soft beep. The professorâs voice could once again be heard from the small speaker inside the machine. âI think itâs time we were leaving, Jack. I have to be up early in the morning, to continue with the excavations.â
âOkay,â replied the colonel. âIâll go and thank the chef, then weâll go.â
âFor heavenâs sake!â cried the thinner of the two listeners. âBecause of you weâve missed the most important part.â
âOh, come on. I didnât do it on purpose,â said the fat one, defensively. âWe could always say that there was a system malfunction and that we didnât manage to record all of the conversation.â
âI always end up having to cover your ass,â claimed the other.
âYouâll thank me. I already have a plan for getting our hands on that handheld device.â Squeezing his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he said âWeâll go into her room tonight and copy all her data without her even noticing.â
âAnd what do we do if she wakes up? Sing her a lullaby?â
âDonât you worry, my friend. I have a few tricks up my sleeve,â he replied, narrowing his eyes.
Meanwhile, Jack and Elisa were preparing to leave the restaurant. The colonel switched on his handheld communicator