Back To Earth. Danilo Clementoni

the whole wall could change into a gigantic three-dimensional system, on which one could see as many as twelve GCS transmissions simultaneously. More than once, this sophisticated supervision and management system had enabled him to gather crucial information in advance, meaning that he could neatly resolve even the more far-reaching crises. He would not have given it up.

      One entire wing of the ex-warehouse was reserved for his collection of souvenirs from various space missions over the years. Each one of them reminded him of something specific, and every time he found himself among this strange jumble of objects, he could not help being thankful for his good fortune, and especially for his faithful friend, who had saved his skin on more than one occasion.

      Petri, who had also been academically outstanding, was no fan of push technology. Although able to pilot almost any kind of aircraft, and although familiar with almost every kind of weapon or local and interplanetary communications system, he preferred to rely on his instincts and manual skills to resolve the problems that presented themselves. There had been a number of times when he had quickly transformed a shapeless heap of scrap metal into a means of transport or a fearsome weapon of defence. It was remarkable. He could make almost anything he needed to. This was partly something he had inherited from his father, an ingenious Craftsman, but it was mainly due to a passion for Art. As a boy, in fact, he had always been in awe of the way that the Craftsmen were able to transform helpless matter into items of great utility and technology, whilst also creating objects of "beauty".

      A loud, unpleasant and intermittent sound jolted him back to reality. The automatic proximity alert had been activated.

      Nassiriyya – The hotel

      It certainly wasn’t a five star hotel, but for someone who had spent weeks in a tent in the desert, even a shower could be considered a luxury. Elisa let the cold, refreshing water massage her neck and shoulders. Her body welcomed the chill, and a series of not unpleasant shivers ran down her back.

      One realises how important some things are when one no longer has them.

      It was more than ten minutes before she decided to get out. The vapour had steamed up the mirror, which had clearly been hung incorrectly. She tried to rectify this, but as soon as she let go it returned to its crooked position. In the end she ignored it. Wiping away the water that had settled on her with a strip of towel, she looked at herself admiringly. When she had been few years younger she had often been offered work as a model or actress. Maybe she could have been a cinema diva or a footballer’s wife, but money had never interested her much. She preferred to sweat, eat dust, study ancient scripts and visit forgotten places. For her, adventure meant the blood and emotion involved in finding an ancient artefact, unearthing some vestige from thousands of years before. Nothing else compared with this.

      She drew closer to the mirror, looking at the small, accursed lines at the corners of her eyes. Her hand moved automatically to her make-up bag, from which she pulled her anti-ageing cream. “Visibly fewer wrinkles in less than one week”. She spread it carefully over her face and gazed at herself attentively. Were they claiming to perform miracles? It did say the effects would only be visible after seven days, however.

      She smiled at herself, and at all the other women who passively allowed themselves to be duped by such advertising.

      The clock on the wall above the bed was showing 7.40 pm. She would never be able to get ready in just twenty minutes.

      She dried herself hurriedly, leaving her long, blond hair slightly wet, and stood in front of the dark wooden wardrobe, in which the few smart clothes she had managed to bring were hanging. At other times she would have taken hours to decide which outfit best suited the occasion. That evening, however, the choice was limited. Without thinking too much, she opted for a short, black dress. It was pretty, definitely sexy, but not vulgar. It had a flattering neckline that would certainly emphasise her voluptuous figure. Taking it out, she threw it onto the bed with an elegant sweep of the hand.

      7.50 pm. It may have been a lady’s privilege, but she hated being late.

      Looking out of the window, she saw a dark, glossy SUV right outside the hotel door. A youth dressed in military clothing, who must have been the driver, was leaning against the bonnet, and making the most of his wait by calmly smoking a cigarette.

      She did her best to enhance her eyes with pencil and mascara, quickly painted some gloss on her lips. Whilst trying to spread it evenly by throwing kisses into the air, she put on her favourite earrings, struggling somewhat to find the holes again.

      It was actually some time since she’d gone out for an evening. Her work took her around the world and she had never found a stable relationship with anyone. Her relationships were usually over within a few months. She had always ignored the innate maternal instinct she had felt from being a girl, but now, with the approach of biological maturity, she was becoming increasingly aware of this. Perhaps this was the time to think seriously about being part of a family.

      She quickly banished the thought from her mind. She slipped on the dress, stepped into the only pair of high-heeled shoes she’d brought with her, and sprayed her best perfume onto each side of her neck with a generous movement. Silk scarf and spacious black handbag. She was ready to go. One last check in the stained mirror on the wall near the door assured her that her make-up was flawless. After a quick twirl she left the room with a satisfied expression.

      The young driver, after repositioning the jaw that had dropped at the sight of Elisa walking out of the hotel like a model, threw away the second cigarette he had just lit and rushed to open her car door.

      â€œGood evening, Doctor Hunter. Shall we go?” he asked, hesitantly.

      â€œGood evening,” she replied, trying out her best smile. “Yes. I’m ready.”

      â€œThank you for the ride,” she added as she climbed into the car, knowing that her skirt would slide up and show just enough of her legs to embarrass the soldier.

      She had always liked being admired.

      Theos spacecraft – Proximity alert

      The O^COM system rapidly materialised something in front of Azakis, a strange object whose outline was not yet clearly defined due to the low resolution obtained by the long-range viewers that were picking it up. It was definitely moving, and was heading for them. The proximity alert system estimated that the probability of impact between the Theos and the unknown object would be greater than 96% if neither altered course.

      Azakis hurriedly climbed into the nearest transfer module. “Bridge,” he barked curtly at the automatic control system.

      Five seconds later, the door opened with a hiss and there, on the huge central screen of the control room, was displayed the blurred image of the object on a collision course for the ship.

      Almost at the same time, a breathless Petri rushed out of another door.

      â€œWhat the devil is going on?” he asked. “We shouldn’t be encountering meteorites in this area,” he exclaimed, staring at the big screen.

      â€œI don’t think it’s a meteorite.”

      â€œIf it’s not a meteorite, then what is it?” demanded Petri, visibly anxious.

      â€œIf we don't change course immediately you’ll see for yourself, when we find ourselves splattered all over the bridge.”

      Petri fumbled with the navigation controls and set a slight variation in the previously planned trajectory.

      â€œImpact in 90 seconds,” said the warm, female voice of the proximity alert system, without emotion. “Distance from object: 276,000 kilometres and falling.”

      â€œPetri, do something! And do it quick!” shouted Azakis.

      â€œI am doing something, but that thing’s moving too quickly.”

      The estimated