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Dr Giyanu Lamichen the director of the observatory turned out to be a very nice man. He sat Yulia down on a chair and sat next to her.
“You know, Yulia,” he smiled, speaking in English, “this new telescope is not just a new telescope. It’s a new opportunity for us. You must understand that we are very grateful to have you here.”
“Thank you,” Yulia was embarrassed by the high-handedness of the doctor, “it’s just the adjustment of the equipment.”
“No-o-o-o,” Giyanu Lamichen interrupted her abruptly, “simple things are the most valuable.”
Yulia hesitated for a moment and felt a great cloud of responsibility suddenly appear from behind the high mountain of her pride.
“Oh shit,” she thought, “now I’m going to worry if I do everything right, Nepalese you Dr House.”
Dr Lamichen looked at her nonchalantly and nodded to something, and then said that all the antennas were set up and the observatory was already waiting.
Yulia put a bag in the corner of the director’s office and took out the necessary documents, a laptop and a flash drive.
“Then let’s go,” said she in a confident tone.
She went up with the doctor to the observatory and saw seven thin and sickly looking men. They smiled as they looked at her and said in Russian ‘welcome’. Dr Lamichen led Yulia to the healthiest-looking one of them and introduced a balding and tired-looking man with a small gray beard and glasses. He looked about sixty, his face swarthy and smiling. He was dressed in slacks and a sweater over a shirt.
“This is Dr Capri,” Lamichen circled his arm around the man’s torso.
“Welcome to Kathmandu, Yulia,” nodded Dr Capri, “you can call me Tulu-Manchi,” he pointed to a table where many wires and miscellaneous equipment were present, inviting her to come over there.
“Hello,” Yulia nodded, “what stage are you at now?” going towards the table, she asked.
“We installed the telescope according to the instructions last week. Now we have finished installing all the antennas and repeaters along the perimeter of the observatory. All the cables are out here.”
Yulia looked at the table that Dr Capri pointed at and realized that it was an ordinary wooden table, similar to the one her grandmother had in her kitchen. Yulia crinkled her face and saw that the wires were lying tied up with some kind of rope. “God, they don’t even have plastic ties here,” she was horrified.
Yulia sat down at her desk and turned on her laptop, getting ready to work. She checked the chair, which squeaked a little, and logged on to the program.
Dr Capri began plugging in all the cables to the control box that stood nearby. He gently untied the rope and carefully read the numbers on the wires, and then inserted them into the appropriate connector on the control box. Everyone else gathered behind the doctor and Yulia’s backs. They looked on with a sense of deep satisfaction and pride at their unsophisticated work. Yulia felt this anticipatory look of wonder at the workers on her back and whispered to Dr Capri.
“Dr Capri, they know it’s going to take a couple of days to set up, don’t they?”
Tulu-Manchi smiled and said quietly conspiratorially:
“Of course they know, but they’re very patient.”
Yulia realized it was a joke and smiled back, too. Dr Capri turned on the control unit, and different lights began blinking on it. All the workers smiled as they saw this and patted each other on the shoulders.
The doctor, in Nepali, told the workers everything was hooked up and they had all done a good job. One of them would stay in case they need help, and the rest could go home. After a few minutes, the observatory emptied and a tired Dr Tulu-Manchi Capri sat down next to Yulia. He asked her to tell him how she flew and why she chose such a difficult profession.
While the device was being diagnosed they had plenty of time to talk.
Part 1 – Chapter 6
Indira Gandhi Airport in Delhi greeted David with warmth and care. He looked at the sculptures of huge palms that looked like the frozen movements of dancers. “What all those mudras mean?” He bought a ticket to Bagdogra and was already sitting on the plane a few hours later. There were completely different people around, they surprised David and made him feel the spirit of adventure.
Ahead of him awaited the route, which was written down on a scrap of paper lying in his pants pocket. Just the names of the places, the points of the route: “Delhi-Bagdogra-Kalimpong-Rangangang-Yuksom-Kanchenjunga”. Amazing words that until a few days ago meant absolutely nothing to David. He wrote them down, checking every letter. The names seemed so distant and mysterious. No return route, no how to get to these points, no distance, no time. Just a few markers on the path, words that anyone anywhere in the world would be able to understand.
David spent three weeks at his father and Joan’s house. He watched TV, walked around the street, but all the time he felt something tense up inside him more and more. It was as if a huge skyscraper was being built on his chest, and the weight was increasing every day. One evening David sat down at his computer and began to look at a map of the world. “I wanted freedom, after all, and now I’m trapped here like I’m ten again,” David thought. He was already tired of asking himself what he wanted what the plan was, and where to go next. And very tired of similar questions from his father and friends who wrote him letters and messages.
“David, dear,” Joan sat down next to him while he watched another show, “I see you want to make up your mind, get up the courage. Believe me, decisions are the consequences of actions. You see, first the step, then the destination. Just try it.”
“Go to Ireland?” David smiled, glancing at his stepmother.
“And if you’re at all desperate – to Scotland, darling,” remarked Joan.
They watched the show on, but David knew for a fact that the advice was good. For some reason he was scared and didn’t want to crawl out of the hole, which, by the way, he didn’t like at all. But the advice was right – get started.
David sat down at his computer and checked the balance in his bank account. ?4,870 – there they were, the ripe fruits of corporate life and all the severance payments due. He clicked on the world map tab and typed ‘Everest’ into his search string, his heart felt cold. He went to Wikipedia and typed in ‘eight-thousanders’. As he read the article, his eyes jumped over a few lines and froze on the number January 11, 1986. It was the date of his birth. For some reason he was very happy with these numbers. Some pleasant feeling of recognition or anticipation flashed weakly inside him. He remembered all the good things that had happened to him in all the time he had lived on Earth. A feeling of gratitude and lightness filled him. He looked over and read what the date referred to. It was the first winter climb to the third peak in the world called Kanchenjunga. David closed his eyes and smiled with a ‘hmmm’ sound. It wasn’t a decision yet, but he felt that this very minute he was taking that very step. A step toward something.
At dinner, David decided to ask:
“Dad, did you know that two Poles conquered Kanchenjunga in winter on my birthday?”
“About the Poles, no, but about the date, yes. That’s right,” Spencer said thoughtfully.
He had been a climber since his youth and was now working as an industrial alpinist. He often used to take David to Kinder Scout National Nature Reserve to hike the hills and be with nature. For him, the mountains were something of an outlet, though for the past ten years he’d only seen the ropes at work and the mountains on the television horizon only. Even before that, he had only hiked mountains in England.
“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.
Part 1 – Chapter 7
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 Еdouard 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.
Part 1 – Chapter 8
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.
Dr Capri stood up and stretched, dispersing tiredness and sleepiness. He realized that if they had received a signal, even though it was wrong, then the technique was working and now they just needed to adjust it. He wanted to suggest that Yulia go downstairs for half an hour for some tea and then take care of the technical issues afterwards.
“Yulia,” he turned to her, but met her concerned look. “What’s wrong?” with a sharp change in tone, the doctor asked.
“It’s a cosmic signal and strong electromagnetic radiation,” Yulia looked into the space in front of her, “I’m a hundred percent sure of it. But the signal is too distinct. There’s sound and everything else,” she turned to the computer again and started typing something.
“Wait a minute, Yulia,” Dr Capri said, hoping she was just tired, “how can we tell what kind of signal we’re picking up?”
“Now I’m going to try to get that signal and convert it to audio. Damn it!” she yelled.
“What?” the doctor tensed up.
“The program is looking for the signal over and over again, trying to point the telescope there. It’s recording in half-second bursts. I could…” she hesitated, biting her lower lip, “tell the program that the telescope is pointed at the object. Please, disconnect the telescope wire from the control box,” she tossed to the doctor.
Dr Capri, justifying the meaning of his name, which can be translated as ‘mighty man’, immediately ripped one of the wire from the box. Yulia began typing the coordinates into the command line. She copied the data from another window and let the program know that the telescope was already manually pointed to the correct coordinates. The error message stopped appearing on the display. Everything looked calm. Yulia began to receive a steady and clear signal. All devices showed bursts of energy. The electromagnetic spectra were off the charts. She tried to extract the audio signal from the pile of data the system was showing and picking up.
“It seems to be working. The signal is strong, it’s at 8450 MHz. It’s the frequency used to transmit data from spacecraft to Earth. But if the signal is from…” Yulia shook her head to get the interfering thought out of her head. “The telescope can’t aim at the object because the object is on Earth.”
“Can we locate the source of the signal?” Dr Capri asked.
“Yes,” she pointed to the display. “Okay, let’s put this as the zero point. Here,” Yulia pointed at the numbers.
Dr Capri wrote down the coordinates ‘27°41'53.0"N 88°08'15.4"E’ with a pencil on a sheet in his notebook and went to the computer at the other end of the room. He quickly entered the data into the search query and saw the name of one of the largest mountains in the world, Kanchenjunga.
“Yulia, I checked the coordinates,” the doctor began to speak loudly from his desk, “it is the northeastern border of Nepal, the Kanchenjunga mountain.”
Yulia was sitting at the table, her left ear placed over the small speaker of her laptop, she held her right hand outstretched upward, letting the doctor know to stop shouting. Dr Capri ran up to Yulia and lowered his head closer to the laptop, too. They tried to breathe quietly, but the sound was almost inaudible. Yulia tried to turn up the volume. It was the maximum, but apart from the hissing, only isolated almost elusive sounds came through.
Dr Capri ran to the second computer and unplugged the small speakers from it. Ten seconds later, Yulia hooked them up to the laptop and turned the volume to maximum.
The noise increased. Then the sound became some kind of gurgling and finally the room was filled with some rustling and thumping.
“Is that thunder?” Yulia whispered.
The sound began to change again. It was the sound of water. Dr Capri checked the speaker wire, hoping the hissing and rustling would disappear. But then they heard birds singing. Dr Capri sat down in the chair next to Yulia and listened to the sound of birds trilling first, then the growling of wild animals, and then the screams of chimpanzees coming from the speakers.
Yulia and Dr Capri’s faces frowned. The tension was going away and was replaced by frustration and even some embarrassment. Yulia lowered her eyes to the floor and thought to herself, “I caught the educational channel on several million worth of equipment.”
Sounds kept pouring out of the speakers: a phone call, a steamer horn, the sound of a train and some kind of tractor.
Yulia was afraid to raise her eyes to Dr Capri because she couldn’t explain why two days of tuning space gear had resulted in them simply catching a television or radio signal from some station.
At that moment, the cry of a newborn baby was heard. Dr Capri touched Yulia’s hand.
“It’s very strange sounds,” he said, as the crunch of snow beneath feet sounded in the background.
Classical music began to play. Something snapped in Yulia and Tulu-Manchi’s chest. Yulia’s breath hitched and she tried to catch her breath, but Dr Capri beat her to it.
