“Read it somewhere?” Spencer asked his son.

“Yes, it’s surprising.”

“What is?”

“Such a mountain was conquered in winter only a few years ago,” David was sincerely surprised.

“Hmm,” Spencer smiled, sensing that his son was interested in the history of mountaineering. “Yes. I thought you knew about that. I definitely told you. The irony is,” Spencer rubbed his smooth chin, “that the first time Kanchenjunga was climbed by two Englishmen was in the fifties. George Band and Joe Brown, that was their names. And old Joe was from here, from Manchester.”

David smiled. Spencer couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the guy, and thought he was surprised by the coincidence around this very Mount Kanchenjunga, which stands right between Nepal and India. In fact, David felt his doubts disappeared and he was ready to go straight to this mountain to see it for himself. After dinner, he plotted an itinerary and bought a ticket to Delhi.

Spencer tried to explain to his son about the dangers of travel and Indian transport, but when he saw that the ticket had been bought, he simply took out his backpack, which was already covered with dust, and began to dump all the necessary things into it. Joan made a list of things to buy, and Spencer took the day off work to go shopping together. The list was huge, but Spencer circled a few things, emphasizing their importance. Thermal underwear, tent, sleeping bag, water filter…

“Promise me you won’t climb the mountain itself,” Spencer said desperately, right in the middle of the store the day before David left.

“Dad, I just want to see that mountain,” David replied calmly.

Joan stroked Spencer on the back and kept saying “Like father, like son”.

It seemed to David that from that conversation at dinner with his father, to this moment, as he sat here in the plane that would take him to Bagdogra, only a second had passed. And that whole second, from the beginning to this very moment, he was smiling. Smiling at himself and everything that was going on around him.

A voice on the speakerphone said “Dear ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts…” David closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

“Step first, then destination,” Joan’s advice rolled around in his head.

Jean-Pierre woke up at 4 a.m. There was no need to get up, but he could not bring himself to sleep any further. He got up, took a shower, and went for a run around the 20th arrondissement. He walked out of the house where he and his wife had rented an apartment and felt the cold air begin to tingle his face. He thought of Audrey. She, like Jean-Pierre, was from Rouen, but they had moved to Paris for work. She did not like Paris, but she liked how happy her husband was when he left for work in the morning and how tiredly satisfied he was in the evening. Audrey felt impenetrable protection and confidence around Jean-Pierre, and she didn’t care what city they lived in.

Jean-Pierre looked at the entrance to the Porte de Bagnolet subway, straightened his back, and ran in the direction of Édouard Vaillant Square. It had been a long time since he had run in the morning and he felt annoyed about it. Although Audrey never joined him on the run, it was as if Jean-Pierre had been with her that time. He liked to dream of them going to the south or just having a free night and he would take her to a restaurant. But right now Jean-Pierre couldn’t let go of thoughts of work.

“What was the meeting that made the patron cancel his visit to Tokyo? So, I know he got a message from the European Space Agency, about an urgent meeting. He called right after it. How did he sound? Calm, as always. But he apologized for keeping me busy. That doesn’t sound like him. He was always very kind to me, but he never apologized. How strange. Does apologizing mean he thinks he’s to blame?”

Jean-Pierre ran into the park and felt the smell change. The air was cooler and more humid. There were no people, only the occasional car tangentially hitting the park grounds. The pleasant noise of the sneakers’ soles against the embankment on the pathway sounded like a most inspiring soundtrack. Jean-Pierre continued to ponder:

“I see three possibilities. One, the patron just decided to take a break from the crazy pace; he recently turned 58. He’s much more tired than I am. That’s a good option, but it’s not about him at all. The second option, he knows something about this conference that I don’t. Either it’s not important at all, or it’s just idle talk. But we’ve been preparing so much, haven’t we? Maybe he wants to test me. My knowledge and confidence. Maybe I’m up for a promotion. Stop.”

Jean-Pierre turned quickly onto a side track to change course of thought.

“This is all nonsense. There was a meeting at the ESA where the Minister of Security was. It was called without warning. Why the space agency? I don’t remember any urgent or important space projects.”

The coolness of the morning and the silence penetrated between the wet strands of Jean-Pierre’s hair. He could feel the sweat droplets running between the hair on his temples. With each step, with each touch of his sneakers on the ground, fatigue and heaviness fell from Jean-Pierre’s shoulders. He felt his muscles rejoice and it communicated to his thoughts. He suddenly felt that he really wanted to do something nice for Audrey, for the boss, for his mother, and for all people in the world.

“Gotta do the order in the best way,” Jean-Pierre thought, speeding up.

Dr Capri shouted something to the worker in Nepali. Yulia watched carefully. The worker turned the antenna a millimeter to the left and looked at the doctor.

“No,” Yulia shook her hands, “let him check the wire to the antenna, there is no signal from it, and turn the repeater to the left, it is crookedly attached.”

“Okay, Yulia,” said the doctor calmly, “I think that after this antenna we should take a break. Maybe you should see Kathmandu.”

“Dr Capri, the system doesn’t work, and I have tickets to Moscow the day after tomorrow,” said Yulia tiredly and frustrated.

“It seems to me, Yulia, that you and I should go…” Dr Capri turned his eyes to the screen and forgot what he wanted to say next.

The indicators began to change on the laptop screen. The graph of the received signal twitched upward. The program showed that the observatory was receiving all kinds of signals – electromagnetic, audio. Yulia turned quickly to the display.

“What a nonsense is that?” Yulia said incredulously.

She looked outside and saw that the worker was smiling at her with a wide smile. He shouted something from the stepladder, but she didn’t understand.

“He says the wire from the antenna was not fully inserted,” Dr Capri explained. “Did it work?”

“I don’t know,” Yulia said embarrassedly, turning to her laptop, “that’s not the signal we’re supposed to get.”

“And what is it?” the doctor was surprised, sitting down on the chair next to Yulia.

“We should get the usual background space noise, equalize its density and set zero coordinates, so that the system understands where the reference point is. The system checks the field for anomalies and if such anomalies are detected, points the telescope there and takes a picture of that area,” Yulia said, typing something on the keyboard.

“So,” forcing her to continue, Dr Capri stretched out.

“The antennas and repeaters are working. That’s the fact. But they’re finding a recurring anomaly, the telescope can’t get a focus there,” Yulia pointed to the recurring ‘impossible coordinates’ message.

“What kind of anomaly do the system see? Perhaps they caught some radio wave or TV signal?” the doctor suggested.

“Looks like it,” said Yulia, trying to control the program.