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of old printed paper from her apron, and put them on the table, ironing them flat with her hand.

“I’ll come back in a few minutes.” And she was gone again.

“Put that back up again, please?” De Cremonese asked.

“What?” Gavino replied.

“The volume on the television. Please turn it up again, quickly.”

Gavino grabbed the remote, turned and pointed it, pushing the volume up button. The sound of the female reporter grew louder.

“...So, the otherwise always cheerful and positive tech billionaire, Eldin Mulder, for the first time, clearly appeared emotional and even angry....” On the screen, the portrait in the upper right corner turned full screen when the image zoomed out to Eldin Mulder holding a press conference.

“So, what exactly happened?” a reporter asked off-screen. “Are the police still investigating?” Another one called out, “What can you tell us about the blood?”

Mulder looked pale, his white-knuckled fists stiff, and lips closed tight. It looked as if he would either refuse to answer and furiously walk away or burst into flames. He waited until the room became completely silent.

“I want to read a brief statement,” Mulder said. “And I won’t be answering any questions.” He took a piece of paper from his jeans and put on his reading glasses.

“That’s a first,” De Cremonese remarked.

“What do you mean?”

“I never saw him read anything from paper. And I always figured he was too vain to put on glasses.”

“Ah, so you know him?”

Mulder started reading. “Later,” De Cremonese told Gavino. “If you don’t mind. I’d like to listen for a moment,” De Cremonese asked, and Gavino nodded.

“Two nights ago,” Mulder began, “in our Park Road location in Granite Bay, my assistant and close friend, Amie Coleman, was abducted from the site. Around midnight, I was called by security agents who told me we had a break-in at the location. Doors were broken open, and the alarm system had been disabled. Local management was quickly onsite, and the first thought was that the burglars had probably been interrupted, since it looked like nothing was taken.

Our access management system, however, reported that Ms. Coleman was onsite at the time of the break-in. When Ms. Coleman wasn’t found, an extensive search led to blood found near Ms. Coleman’s workspace. This blood was identified as Ms. Coleman’s.” Mulder spoke slowly and took a deep breath before taking a sip from the glass of water in front of him. “This morning, I received a letter confirming the abduction of Ms. Coleman. In the letter, the kidnappers demanded that I, and the Logynous corporation, stop playing God and cease all of our activities in the fields of artificial intelligence and gene-based therapies. They also demanded the payment of one hundred million American dollars. The sender threatened the life of Ms. Coleman should I not comply within one week. The letter was signed by the Young Earth Movement, Y.E.M.”

Mulder tightly squeezed his watery eyes for a moment before wiping them with a tissue. “I would now like to address the Young Earth Movement.

“There is no way I will be extorted into giving up anything I’m working on. There is no way I will pay a cent to anyone who threatens a loved one. What I do promise”—he banged his clenched fists on the table in front of him—“is that if anything should happen to Ms. Coleman, I will put all my resources into finding you, and I will destroy you.

“And....” He paused for a long moment. “I have a counter demand. If you release Ms. Coleman unharmed within forty-eight hours, I will forget everything, and that will be the end of it. I expect to hear from you soon. You know how to find me.”

As Mulder disappeared from the screen, journalists shouted questions that he ignored, and the host returned to the screen.

“That’s enough,” De Cremonese said, and Gavino turned the volume back down.

“Creationists?” Gavino thought out loud.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, uh, the Young Earth. I’ve heard of them. They are a European group of extreme creationists, Catholics in origin, I believe. So, do you know him?”

“Hmm?” De Cremonese seemed zoned out.

“Him? Do you know Eldin Mulder?”

“Oh, yes, him and her. Not very well, but still. I met him once a few months ago.” He fell silent again for a long moment, staring straight through Gavino. “Let’s focus on the task at hand,” he came back. “So, did you think about the question?”

“Um, I did indeed,” Gavino spoke slow.

“But you didn’t come up with anything?” De Cremonese took a quick look at the menu.

“That’s not it, Father,” Gavino responded quickly. “I have a theory but no proof and uh... well, I guess it’s kind of out there if you know what I mean.”

“Son,” De Cremonese said, shifting to the front of his chair, “scientists are often described as seekers for evidence. But the truth is that we first need a theory before we can confirm anything, so please, no matter how far out there you think your theory is, please, let me hear it.”

“All right.” Gavino leaned back into his chair. “Two rockets on their way to Mars, or its surroundings.”

De Cremonese nodded.

“Now, what do we know about Mars?”

“Actually,” De Cremonese said, also leaning back into his chair, “we know quite a lot. And with all that, the question about Mars has shifted to how we can use that knowledge for the next step.”

“Being?” Gavino spread both hands over the table.

“How to get there, how to stay there for a while and, if possible, how to stay there permanently?”

“Exactly.” Gavino sat back upright in his chair. “That is exactly what I thought. So, with no known space agency having any concrete plans at the moment, I wondered what the purpose could be of the two rockets, sent in secret, to the next habitable planet in the solar system. So, what are the biggest problems we face with living on Mars?”

“First, we need to get there.”

“True,” Gavino stated, “but that problem is being worked on all over the world. In the U.S. alone, there are almost a dozen

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