“Everyone wants to feel connected to great things and great people. Children need to feel connected to the history of the country and the world. They are the ones who create it and perceive it. They make it relevant and important.” Debby put her pen aside and thought.

The plane rose gently above the clouds and leveled off in the ocean of air.

People were gathering in the large hall of the European Space Agency. There were many more people than yesterday. There were representatives from various countries and different agencies. They were all seated around a large table.

“So, gentlemen,” Jean-Jacques Dordain’s voice rang out, “let’s begin our meeting. Today we are joined by colleagues from Russia, Nepal, and India. Representatives from NASA will be joining us a little later. I would like now to come up with a common position on the situation. Please.”

The Nepalese general turned on his microphone:

“We are monitoring the area, no anomalies so far. Tomorrow we will be able to survey the area with the Roscosmos scientist who detected the signal.”

The words of the Nepalese military officer were confirmed by the Indian commander.

“The cordon at the entrance to Kanchenjunga Park reports that there are no incidents in the quadrant. We have received pictures from a drone. Mountains and snow.”

“What are your plans,” said the Roscosmos representative to the Indian.

“We will wait for the report of Nepalese expedition. For now, we are preparing a special team at the closest base to the point. It’s not that fast, it’s a very distant area.”

“Did you compare the images from the drone and the map of signal distribution?” Igor Komarov, the head of Roscosmos, continued to ask.

“Yes, there is absolutely nothing there, it’s the eastern side of Mount Kanchenjunga. Not a village or even a climbing station.”

“What about the dynamics of the signal?” Jean-Jacques Dordain clarified.

“It is still broadcasting. The magnetic field is getting stronger. We think it may be affecting the weather,” a scientist next to the head of ESA said.

“What do NASA say?” the Indian general asked.

“So far they have not given any answers to us or to Roscosmos,” replied Jean-Jacques Dordain. “The head of NASA, Charles Bolden, and his team are coming to see us today. So far, silence. I suggest we get together when they get here.”

Everyone started getting up from the table and making phone calls. Bernard Bajolet approached the French Minister of Security.

“Monsieur.”

“Yes, Bernard, what do you think of all this?” the minister asked, taking Monsieur Bajolet aside.

“Monsieur, frankly, I don’t understand why everyone is so worried. It’s just a signal.”

“Look at the report,” the minister pointed to the blue folder marked ESA on his desk, “they say the signal is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“М?” Bernard Bajolet said in surprise.

“Along with this signal comes a very strong impulse. A large cyclone is forming, seismic activity has increased. They say that all this may lead to a major catastrophe.”

Bernard Bajolet silently stretched a ‘yes’ and thought about it. He was used to looking for a threat in people and other nations, but he rarely saw it in nature.

“If it were nature,” his mind raced, “there would be no signal from Voyager.”

The morning was frosty. David ran quickly out of the tent and started jumping on the spot. Steam was coming out of his mouth and the cold air was burning his body. It was about six o’clock in the morning, but the sun was already visible. David turned to it, and shouted as hard as he could:

“Hello, world!”

The echo rang out between the neighboring hills, and the spirit of adventure colored the landscape with bright paint. David is ready for anything and knows for sure that everything will be alright. He brewed some tea and drank with relish. The doubts seemed to be completely gone.

“Is this what life tastes like?” David thought aloud.

He packed all his belongings, checked that his shoes were laced up well and walked towards the foothills of Kanchenjunga. His feet treaded on rocky ledges, next to which small plants struggled to survive. David looked around and felt ready to spend the rest of his days here. “If there could still be Joan’s cooking here, it would be heaven,” he smiled, remembering the culinary variety at his father’s house.

He began to remember some little things from his own life. They were episodes completely forgotten and unimportant. He played them over in his mind and was surprised that he remembered them with such clarity. For example, he remembered taking a coding exam and passing off someone else’s work as his own. His heart clenched for a moment. He felt a real pain in the chest and an unpleasant taste in the mouth. Then the memory flashed back to him and a few others carrying a girl who had fainted on the Tube in London right in the rush hour crowd. David remembered what he was doing, what the girl looked like and all the people in their path, but could not remember a single thought he had at that moment. “Or maybe there were no thoughts?” he thought.

David stopped and took out a small notebook and a pencil and began to write:

“When I was a kid, all I wanted to do was express myself and feel the world. Where is that now? There was no + and -. There was balance. Maybe unhappiness is just the force of that balance. It just wants to tell us, ‘Stop taking, it’s time to give’.”

David looked at the tape and remembered how he had decided to sell everything and leave. It all seemed far in the past now. How had he had the guts to do such a thing? He didn’t quite understand it either. Had he chosen it, or was he just reacting to the circumstances? Maybe it was the monotonous work, the long hours that forced him to do it. Forced him to quit the job, to move out of his apartment, to leave London. How did he end up on the other side of the world? Amazingly, the trip seemed like complete madness to him when he was at his father’s house. But now it all – what’s around and what’s inside – seems so logical and so singularly true.

There was a buzzing sound from the bag and a little later the music of his phone. David froze in place, unsure of what was happening. He looked behind him and listened. The sound was intensifying.

“What the hell?” he dropped his bag from his shoulders.

He fumbled for his phone, surprised that he had forgotten to turn it off. All it said on the screen was ‘Incoming Call’. No phone number, no name from the address book. “How is there even network service here?” He swiped the screen to accept the call and held it to his ear. A loud ring and rattle came from the speaker. David abruptly pulled the phone away from his ear and clutched at the pain. He tried to drop the call, but there was no way he could do it. The phone was unresponsive. He turned it off with a button and stomped his foot in pain.

“Shit,” David sat down on the ground, “what was this all about?”

He rubbed his temple and massaged his ear, wondering what it was. He thought maybe it was some kind of magnetic field from the iron ore or something. He looked at his hand and saw that there was blood on the fingers. His thoughts stopped dramatically. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket, tore part of it off, put it in his ear, and walked onward until a fright found him among those mountains. His head was buzzing, but he didn’t want to lose the spirit that had come to him that morning. The steps became less smooth, and the philosophical thoughts faded away.

“Balance, you say?” he thought. “Will see.”

David quickened his stride, kicking rocks in frustration.

“Let’s get to the point,” said Jean-Jacques Dordain, as organizer, and he looked expectantly at Charles Bolden. “Charley, tell us, what’s going on?” changing his tone to a friendly one, the head of the European agency asked. “Why NASA gives no response to our inquiries?”