#5.You can't hide the sun with your finger United States Space Force Headquarters, The Pentagon, Arlington, Virginia - August 15, 2049, 7:15 a.m. "Good morning. I'm ready to begin the setup on my end. How long do you estimate it will take, approximately? The call is scheduled for eight." General Thorne had just addressed the communications technician in a courteous tone, hands still on the chair's armrests. The black mesh seat conformed to his body with exact precision. "Good morning, General. We'll be ready in under twenty minutes. The mapping profile programmed for this call is fairly simplified. I was told to prioritize audio quality." The technician was a middle-aged man, likely of South Korean origin, at least judging by his features. As he spoke, he kept working without pause on a touch keyboard propped on a tiny satin-aluminum stand. The calm, relaxed expression on his face contrasted with the frantic movement of his fingers on the screen. "Now I just need you to extend your arms until they're level with your shoulders." "I've never quite understood why we use these contraptions. When I was young, making a video call meant pressing a button." Thorne complied with the movement. Then, lowering his voice, he added, "Truth is, it irritates me that I've never properly understood how the hell they work." "Oh, conceptually it's quite simple," the technician said. "the scanner maps a random sampling of the atoms in your body, and then the system programs an identical quantity of subatomic particles right here, under your feet." "And then what, exactly?" "Then the system pings the particles in the receiving frame on the other end, activating quantum entanglement. As soon as we get the return ping, we're ready... We're already at sixty percent." "Ah. Very simple," Thorne said, with unmistakable sarcasm. The technician laughed openly, then advised the general not to do the same-to avoid disturbing the mapping by moving his facial muscles too much. "Do I have to do the crucifix pose much longer?" Thorne asked dryly. "Oh! Sorry, General. You can lower your arms now- we're done. We're ready. The synchronous test has already run. The connection is active and stable. When you want to begin, press the green button on the armrest to place the call." "As for me, my part is finished. My regards, General- and I'll get out of your way at once." Relieved, Thorne acknowledged him with a short nod and a small wave of his right hand. The room he had chosen for the holographic conversation with the NASA base on Merritt Island sat in an infrequently used section of the vast Pentagon complex. It was reached by a windowless corridor lit by old-generation cold LED strips. The small room itself was spare and utilitarian, enclosed by raw concrete walls. A single shaft of natural light filtered through a solartube set into the middle of the ceiling. Someone in the Pentagon staff had nicknamed it "the Morgue." Thorne found it perfect for a call with Dr. Vasquez. The exchange needed to be brief, informal, and yet extremely discreet. This was precisely the kind of place he required. Everything had been prepared. The display on the wall in front of him read 7:55. For the "Eagle of Milwaukee," punctuality wasn't a preference-it was practically a religion. To pass the time until the exact minute, he activated the screen in front of him. The first document he opened was a SETI press release issued less than twenty-four hours earlier. FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE SETI Institute - August 11, 2049 Subject: SETI Detects a Radio Signal of Unknown Origin from Neptune's Orbit Mountain View, CA - The SETI Institute (Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence) announced today that its network of quantum orbital radio telescopes has detected a persistent, coherent radio signal originating from the orbit of the planet Neptune. The discovery was made on August 9, 2049, and immediately triggered the Institute's standard analysis protocols. The signal, with a stable frequency of 432 Hz, was detected by orbital radio telescopes equipped with artificial intelligence systems for data processing. These systems eliminated environmental and astrophysical interference, confirming that the source of the signal is not a known natural cosmic phenomenon. Dr. Sonia Steinbeck, Director of Research at the SETI Institute, stated: "The unusual stability and purity of the wave, never previously detected in that region of space, suggests it may be an artificial transmission. While it is premature to draw definitive conclusions, our priority is now to monitor and analyze the signal to understand its nature and origin. Our team is working with space agencies and research institutes around the world." Previous telescope observations in the same area had never recorded phenomena of this kind. The signal is under constant monitoring and analysis. Further updates will be provided as soon as new information becomes available. About the SETI Institute: The SETI Institute is a nonprofit organization dedicated to the research, understanding, and explanation of the origin and nature of life in the universe and the evolution of intelligence on Earth and beyond. Our work includes exploration of the cosmos, development of innovative technologies, and the promotion of excellence in science education. When he looked away from the screen, he realized the minutes had flown. At 7:59, he pressed the green call button, allowing roughly a minute for startup. Within seconds, the three-dimensional image of Dr. Elena Vasquez, NASA Center Director, began to appear in front of him, about two meters away. The director wore a white suit with a fitted jacket and wide-leg trousers-formal, rigorous, with no NASA logos or uniform-like details. Thorne, for his part, wore a soft khaki uniform, far less martial than usual, with his tie loosened at the neck. "Good morning, Dr. Vasquez. How are you?" "Very well, General. Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you." "As you can see, this isn't a formal meeting. But you understand I'll have to come to see you in the next few days for an official one. I only disturbed you to exchange a brief update." Vasquez nodded. Thorne continued without delay. "As you may have noticed, big news travels faster than light. Apparently general relativity doesn't apply to headlines." He allowed himself a thin smile. "That's exactly what I wanted to discuss. I assume you've seen the SETI statement-and everything else." "Of course. On our side, we had no way to prevent it. As you know, SETI is completely private," Vasquez said, with a look that signaled understanding. "In the past, as NASA, we had a certain influence-preferred channels. But today..." "Yes, I know. SETI is flooded with money from those old Silicon Valley fossils. They have proprietary infrastructure now, exclusive orbital telescopes, deep funds for AI software development..." Thorne said, the smile still strained. Vasquez remained serious. "I would still like to reassure you that, on our side, no classified information was leaked in any way. I can personally vouch for the loyalty of my staff." "Yes, of course," Thorne said, soothingly. "The truth is we live in a complicated, interconnected world. There were noticeable movements in the socialsphere even before the SETI release, but this delivered the finishing blow. People look like they've gone mad. The subject is too tempting-something was bound to come out. You can't hide the sun with a finger." As he said it, he spread his arms slightly in a gesture meant to appear open, understanding. "Still, General, I should point out that the statement is restrained and brief," Vasquez replied. "And one thing in particular strikes me as positive: SETI does not mention the Chinese mission at all. It doesn't connect the spacecraft's disappearance to the radio wave they detected. That is genuinely commendable, don't you think?" "I agree. But the cat's out of the bag." His tone tightened. "Now, to the point: based on the data available today, what conclusions have you reached?" Vasquez became even more resolute. Her steady posture and natural movements made it clear she had no intention of showing intimidation. She leaned slightly forward, shifting her weight to her right leg. After a deep breath, she brushed hair away from her face and began outlining her team's findings. "First: we have rechecked the data and the measurements. The speed reported by the Chinese appears correct. There is little doubt on that point. We can provide calculations and full documentation if required. Second: the Chinese probe is no longer detectable by any of our systems. At present, with the instruments we have, we cannot detect wreckage or debris attributable to the vehicle either." Thorne listened intently, his furrowed brow granting implicit permission to continue. "And now point three, which I consider the most controversial: the continuous, stable signal at 432 cycles per second is real and easily detectable. Too easily, in fact, for a low-frequency signal. Based on what we consider established data, we have attempted to propose plausible hypotheses. If you wish, I'm ready to walk you through them," she concluded. "Good. Later, I'll want to hear those hypotheses," Thorne said. "But right now, I'd like your personal opinion on what is happening on social networks around this whole 432 Hz business." He spoke politely, with a slight narrowing of the eyes that suggested he expected her to read between the lines. Vasquez did not miss it. "Certainly, General. We've seen it, and we've discussed it. It's a mass phenomenon that wasn't hard to predict. Searching the archives of what used to be called the World Wide Web-or the Internet-is within anyone's reach. All you do is ask your preferred personal AI, and it will deliver everything in seconds. After SETI's announcement, people rushed in headfirst." "Finding a mountain of anti-scientific nonsense," Thorne cut in. "Exactly," she confirmed. "This 432 Hz frequency idea is old. At the time it circulated in 'alternative' circles. There was also what they called the New Age movement, spreading unverified, vaguely spiritual theories." "Good," Thorne said. "I believe we understand each other. Social networks and mass news aggregators can dive into old superstitions for likes and audience as much as they want. We will not waste time entertaining the esoteric folklore of the past. But the fact remains that all this is contributing to a real Neptune-mania in public opinion..." "Absolutely, General. It's remarkable," Vasquez said, with a clear nod. Then her voice softened slightly. "Oh-my apologies. In my earlier summary I left out a point of some significance: the control of potential relativistic paradoxes. I'll be brief. Light speed was never exceeded. And the much-publicized peak of 98.9 percent was reached for only fifty-four seconds." She continued without pause, gesturing lightly. "The measurements show no surprises. Distortion remained at the level predicted by theory-overall negligible. And the hypothesis of an event linked to forces during the sail inversion in the braking phase does not appear plausible based on our calculations..." Elena Vasquez had turned into a river in flood. Thorne leaned forward in his mesh chair, stiffening. His gray eyes tracked her slightly trembling image with intense focus, his expression heavy. Suddenly he raised a hand, cutting her off. "Vasquez, before you present your hypotheses, I'll give you mine: this smells like a Chinese psyop." The fact that their probe is no longer detectable does not prove it was lost. They may have activated a stealth technology we don't understand, rendering it invisible. He folded his arms across his chest, inhaling sharply- an intentional pause, reinforcing the point. Vasquez didn't interrupt. Thorne resumed, voice rising. "And then, forgive me, but what the hell do you think that 'sound' at 432 Hz is, if not a signal generated by the probe itself? It seems plausible they chose that 'mysterious' frequency precisely because they knew people and journalists would go looking, and they'd find tons of material-old, absurd, but fascinating. Perfect fuel for social delirium." His tone grew more animated. "And as you can see, it's working beautifully. In the bluntest terms," he said, "I'll say it without sugarcoating it: the most likely hypothesis is that the Chinese are making fools of us." He sounded as if he were delivering a speech. But his vehemence did not seem to provoke any particular reaction in Vasquez. She replied promptly, voice low but firm. "That was one of the hypotheses on our table, General. However, during our brainstorming-assisted by AI-we couldn't close the loop. What would the motive be? If the craft is still there, intact, then it reached orbit." "It would be in China's interest to celebrate orbital insertion as well as the speed record, wouldn't it? Why would they sabotage themselves by making it vanish and casting a shadow over their own mission? What would they gain?" "Sometimes people choose to create chaos simply to create chaos. You understand?" Thorne pressed, though less harshly than usual. "You assume they're doing it to destabilize Western socialspheres. Forgive me, but we don't find that convincing." Trend monitoring tells us Chinese social networks are spiraling too-perhaps even more than ours. In this global frenzy, Chinese platforms are at the forefront. The situation seems to be slipping out of their control as well, General." He nodded once, acknowledging the point. Then he frowned again, more sharply. "I understand, Vasquez. Your objections are worth noting. In any case, here at the Pentagon we believe there are too many things we don't know. For that reason, for the moment, we continue to consider the Chinese psyop hypothesis highly plausible. But we are ready to change our view if meaningful new evidence emerges." Vasquez nodded. "I agree we need more data-more proof. Another hypothesis is that an unknown kind of energy field is present in the region where the probe disappeared. The spacecraft could be trapped within it, or scattered inside a cosmic phenomenon that our instruments can't detect." "And the mysterious frequency? Any hypotheses?" Thorne asked. "The emitted frequency could be temporary and caused by disruption-for example, triggered by a reactor failure. The fact that the wave is at 432 Hz could be coincidence." She finished with both palms turned upward, as if to say: who knows. Thorne didn't argue. He shifted in his chair again, face tightened with effort. After moving his right hand slightly, he spoke while keeping his eyes on the small display embedded in the armrest. "Doctor, I have to say this conversation has been productive. Today we couldn't possibly reach conclusions. Within a few hours I will inform you of the day and time of my arrival at Merritt Island. In the meantime, let's all use our resources to the fullest to learn more about this strange matter." "We will need more data. My dream would be to have the probe's sensor data directly," she said, with a deliberate smile. "Don't lose hope, Doctor. I will give instructions to the appropriate people regarding the possibility of obtaining new data," Thorne said with confidence, fists tightening. "Our instruments have done what they can. I believe the next move belongs to trusted humans who know how to act. We won't leave this mystery unresolved. And we have no intention of letting the Chinese make fools of us." "Very well," Vasquez said. "Contact me whenever you like. I remain at your disposal. It was a pleasure to see you. We're all looking forward to welcoming you here. Speak soon." "Soon, Doctor. I'll send you a detailed message to arrange the next meeting. For now, have a good evening, and good work." After the farewells, Thorne ended the call with a firm tap on the red button in the small display set into the armrest. He rose abruptly and headed straight for the exit, visibly energized by the urgency of the situation. Then he hesitated. He realized he had not asked Dr. Vasquez whether she had also consulted John Evans and his Prometheus. He dismissed the thought at once. He had decided that, for the moment, he'd had enough of electronic sorcery. His gut told him it was time to act.