The captain was silent for a moment, reconstructing the chronology of events in his memory.

“No one was hurt. When we got out of the helicopter, we met an English tourist. He was alone. He saw us falling and came to help. We tried to get the helicopter going again, but we were stopped by…” first the captain and then the interpreter fell silent.

The hall filled with tension. Everyone in the hall could see the captain, torn by some inner dilemma, looking around and not finding a place, either looking at the interpreter or somewhere to the side. He looked at the man next to him in the same uniform and made up his mind:

“We saw the plane crash. It scattered right in the air, and then,” the interpreter paused and shifted his gaze to somewhere behind the camera. “Then it disappeared.”

“Is he talking about the missing Paris-Tokyo flight?” the head of ESA asked his colleagues without using the microphone.

“Yes,” several voices came from the audience.

“It all fits,” said the French general sitting next to Bernard Bajolet.

Captain Shah was silent again.

“Captain,” the Indian general asked him, “clarify what do you mean by the words ‘disappeared’.”

“I mean that the plane just disappeared right in the air. The visibility was good, and we could hear the turbines roaring. It was flying away from us at an altitude of maybe a couple of kilometers. Maybe lower. And then the whole front just disappeared in the air.”

“Maybe it was clouds or fog?” someone in the audience suggested.

“No,” the captain shook his head when the interpreter voiced the Europeans’ hypothesis.

“I saw it with my own eyes, and so did they,” the interpreter continued, and Captain Shah pointed to his subordinates, “and the civilians saw it too.”

“But where are they?” burst out from the Roscosmos head. “What happened to them?”

“We saw part of the plane, the tail part,” the interpreter clarified. “It came off the plane and fell slowly not far from us. We rushed over there.”

“Did part of the plane get out?” again the Indian military general clarified.

“Yes, but…” said the interpreter, trying to capture the intonation of the captain, “it’s hard to explain. The tail of the plane also fell unusually. There seemed to be an invisible parachute tied to it. Um. Slowly,” the interpreter transmitted a tone of uncertainty.

“What?” there was an exclamation in the audience.

“Explain,” the Indian general asked.

“It was falling like a feather, slowly,” the Indian military man translated, and Captain Shah splashed his hands in a sign that he himself understood how strange it is. “We just thought there might be people there. We left the co-pilot next to the machine, went over a couple of hills, and then we saw this Frenchman and a young girl, apparently an American. Her name was Debby, yes, Debby, and the Frenchman’s name was Jean-Pierre.”

A chill ran through Bernard Bajolet’s body. His breath collapsed for a second. He quickly found himself and, after the second time, turned on his microphone.

“Please wait. Jean-Pierre Biro? That was his name? That’s my assistant.”

The whole room looked at Bernard Bajolet. He concentrated all his attention on the image of a distant conference room somewhere in India. There was silence again, and then Captain Shah nodded.

“Biro, yes.”

Monsieur Bajolet turned on the microphone again:

“Did he survive? He… Tell me where he is.”

Captain Shah nodded to the interpreter.

“Yes, they survived. The girl’s leg was damaged. It appeared to be a closed fracture. She could not move, she was in bad condition,” the interpreter paused, while the captain was thinking of what more could be added to this description.

“We got the data,” the general sitting next to Bernard Bajolet said quietly. “It apparently was an American citizen, Debby Glandfield. She was traveling from the United States to Japan. We’re looking for her relatives right now.”

“What about the man?” Bernard turned to Captain Shah.

“He was fine. There were a few bruises on his face, but he was fine. That’s why we were surprised. You see? The tail of the plane was falling very slowly.”

There were rustles and questions in the hall. Many people were looking at Monsieur Bajolet, discussing something. Others asked questions to the captain, but it all turned into unrelated chatter. The head of ESA took the situation into his own hands.

“Gentlemen, please be quiet!” he looked at the screen. “Please, what happened next? Why don’t we see the scientists and the rescued passengers with you?”

Captain Shah continued:

“The woman was in serious condition, and we decided to return to the helicopter. By then a strong wind had risen, and we had constructed a stretcher. The weather was rapidly worsening. The civilians took the girl, and we moved forward with Dr Capri. Then… I don’t know how we lost sight of him; we tried to go back, but visibility was zero. Snow and wind everywhere. We couldn’t find them. Half an hour later, we found our helicopter and co-pilot. We decided to wait for the wind to calm down, but it only got stronger.”

The Indian general, who was sitting behind a desk at the European Space Agency building, came into the conversation:

“After a couple of hours, we found them near the helicopter. After that, a rescue team went out with the Nepalese military to look for civilians, but all we found was an inverted tail section. The team split into two groups. One took the captain’s team back to our base, and the other stayed in the quad to search for survivors. We have no more news so far,” the general finished.

“Is there still bad weather in the area?” someone from the hall clarified.

“Yes, the weather is constantly changing, but in total the conditions are bad. We hope that the civilians found some shelter nearby. There’s a big storm out there.”

Several people ran into the ESA room. One of them immediately ran up to Jean-Jacques Dordain. Two others to Charles Bolden. The audience froze.

“Just a second,” said the Indian general.

The man was explaining something emotionally to the head of the European Space Agency, then he started pointing at the other two and his laptop screen. Jean-Jacques Dordain silently asked, “are you sure?”, and the man nodded briefly.

Monsieur Dordain looked around the room, remembered the video conference call, and, indicating with his hand to the panting man that he should wait a second, began:

“Gentlemen, you might have more questions, but we need to interrupt the videoconference urgently. New information has come up.”

The head of ESA looked at the scientist standing next to him, then at the head of NASA. Between them there was a short discussion without words. Charles Bolden nodded to share the bad news with colleagues. Jean-Jacques Dordain gathered air into his lungs:

“Okay,” he made sure the video was off. “Gentlemen, we’ve received reports from our probes that the Sun’s activity is dropping dramatically. We’re trying to figure out what happened, but the brightness of the Sun…” Jean-Jacques couldn’t find the words. “I think it would be better if Dr Pierre Edo explain what we are observing now.”

A gray-haired but very young man sat down next to the head of the ESA and turned on his microphone. He calmly began to explain:

“We are observing a decrease of solar activity right now. This is represented by a decrease in brightness, but in the near future, climatic anomalies await us. The normal brightness or absolute stellar magnitude of the Sun is 4.7. An hour ago, this value fell to 4.2. The dynamic of the decline is very fast. We assume that by the end of the day, the value will be 2.”

The people in the room didn’t know how to react to this. They whispered, but did not decide to ask a question.

The doctor waited a second and asked himself: