“What?” Yulia turned to Dr Capri and looked at him hopefully.

Dr Capri responded to her gaze, but could not help her. He didn’t understand the Russians’ conversation.

“How did the detection work out?” Yulia and Tulu-Manchi’s silent dialogue was interrupted by her boss.

“We started the system, and I turned on the search. The equipment started giving me a targeting error. They tried to point again and again, but they couldn’t. I turned off the telescope and the system started getting a steady signal through the antennas. I used an audio simulation program, and we heard music. Then we realized it was something familiar…” Yulia didn’t have time to finish her thought.

“I’ll call you in half an hour,” Mikhail said without disconnecting his Skype, stood up from the table and started talking to someone.

Yulia looked down at the old keyboard, and only now she noticed that there were incomprehensible squiggles on it next to the usual English letters. Tulu-Manchi looked at Yulia in silence. His patience seemed to have no limits, he just waited. Yulia began to speak, staring down at the incomprehensible squiggles:

“The Chinese and ESA confirmed the signal. Everyone can see it. The signal is not the only problem, there is also strong magnetic radiation. Everyone is trying to figure out what’s going on right now,” Yulia looked up at Dr Capri.

He was calm and deciding something inside.

“The signal is coming from the territory of Nepal,” he said and stopped.

Yulia did not understand whether it was a question or a statement, and just waited to see what would happen next.

“Can you build something to register the signal under hiking conditions?” Tulu-Manchi asked.

“I don’t have the equipment,” Yulia tried to say.

“We can find something in our warehouse. Come down, I’m going to Dr Lamichen,” Dr Capri stood up with the look of a man who had made up his mind.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s happening in Nepal, so we have to go there,” the doctor said as he left the room.

Bernard Bajolet was twiddling a phone in his hands, sitting at the conference table at the headquarters of the European Space Agency. He could not understand, since when did the ESA become involved in national security issues. But he received a personal call from the minister asking him to come to an urgent meeting. Around him sat several heads of various organizations whom he knew well. All of them were also looking at each other incomprehensibly.

“Well, gentlemen,” he thought, “what’s the news in orbit?”

Jean-Jacques Dordain, head of ESA, entered the room. Everyone turned to him mechanically.

“Madame and Monsieur, sorry to keep you waiting,” he began with undisguised excitement. “Well, about seven hours ago in Kathmandu during the installation of the anomaly detection system in outer space, a signal was detected.”

The light in the room dimmed and the desktop of the computer of one of Mr. Dordain’s assistants appeared on the big monitor. The assistant opened a map file so that everyone could understand exactly where the detection had occurred. At this time, Jean-Jacques Dordain continued:

“The signal was picked up at the Kathmandu Observatory. Roscosmos was the first to confirm it. They checked and found exactly the same anomaly. The head of Roscosmos asked us for confirmation. We did that about four hours ago. The signal is believed to be coming from the foothills in northeastern Nepal, Mount Kan-chen-junga,” he said slowly, reading from the sheet. “The signal contains information from the so-called golden recording of Voyager made in the seventies.”

“Is that a threat to national security?” someone next to Bernard Bajolet said with indignation.

The head of ESA hesitated a bit and added:

“Um. The signal itself is on a space transmission frequency, that’s not the biggest problem. Although we can’t explain that either. The biggest problem is the active magnetic anomaly.”

There is a silent pause in the room. It was interrupted by the French Minister of Security.

“Gentlemen, we are not talking about contact with aliens, but we need to understand what is going on. What resources do we have to check this quadrant?”

“We can take detailed pictures of the area,” suggested one of the generals, “we can analyze the recording to determine the type of transmitting device.”

“Okay,” the minister nodded. “What else do we know? Please, Monsieur Dordain.”

The head of the space agency began to talk:

“The recording itself is no different from the Voyager recording. We tend to assume that this is the original, not the recordings that are in the NASA archives and public sources, this is exactly the original from the Voyager record.”

“How did you figure that out?” Bernard Bajolet asked.

“The quality of the signal.”

“I thought it was just an attached disk on the Voyager plating. Is it possible that the signal is being broadcast?” asked one of the generals.

“No,” replied the minister for the head of the ESA, “so we need to get to the bottom of this situation.”

That ended the meeting, several generals began to call their teams to find out more about the situation. The minister asked all the heads of departments to stay in Paris and attend an extended meeting on the situation tomorrow. Bernard Bajolet went out into the corridor and checked his mail and his work calendar.

He dialed the number of his assistant.

“Listening,” Jean-Pierre’s voice was heard.

“Jean-Pierre, I received the documents. Very good. I want to ask you…” said Bernard tiredly. “You will have to go to Tokyo instead of me. I have informed the minister that you will make a report on our proposals.”

“It will be done, monsieur. Thank you.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Bernard Bajolet breathed in his chest, “forgive me for not giving you a rest. Tomorrow you can take the day off. I have to stay in Paris.”

“Okay.”

Jean-Pierre, rested and in the mood for a long flight, stood in the aisle of the plane. There were several passengers in front of him. The stewardess smiled at him and greeted him.

“Good evening, monsieur.”

Jean-Pierre walked to the back of the plane. He had to change the ticket of the boss, and there was only a free seat in the tail of the plane. He walked down the narrow aisle, holding a small suitcase on wheels in front of him. A young Japanese man with headphones was sitting at the window, Jean-Pierre put the suitcase on the luggage shelf and sat on the seat in the center of the row. People were seated in their seats and preparing for the flight. A girl sat down next to them. Jean-Pierre began to repeat to himself the theses of the report, which he would have to present tomorrow. The plane began to roll out for takeoff.

Jean-Pierre glanced to the left – the Japanese man was typing something on his phone and listening to music; he turned to the right and saw a postcard in the hands of the girl.

“Nika,” Jean-Pierre said in French with a smile, “goddess of luck.”

“Excuse me,” the girl said in English.

Jean-Pierre looked closely at the girl and realized he could guess where she was from. Blond hair down to her shoulder blades, smiling face, high forehead, and wide-set eyes. She was dressed in a very bright sweater, and she had a special travel pad around her neck.

“Nika brings good luck,” he said in English, “and good luck is always nice.”

The girl smiled and nodded understandingly. She liked that Frenchman with the gray hair and the tired but kind look. She looked again at the image and said:

“Yes, that’s what I’m thinking. My name is Debby.”

“Jean-Pierre,” he nodded briefly.

The plane accelerated down the runway and threw its nose up. Jean-Pierre leaned back and continued to mull over the report and the speech plan with his eyes closed. Debby put the card away in her purse and sank into her thoughts. In them, she was already driving with Sango in the car and telling her impressions of the Louvre. The museum had given her some interesting thoughts about how to get the children involved in learning. Debby imagined telling a friend about her idea. The name of the project was a draft, but she liked it a lot. “Attention conquers suffering,” she wrote in her notebook.