“Mr. President, Mr....”

Mr. Liveshitz shuddered. He still couldn't get used to the fact that the senator's chair was left behind, and the former master of the United States was brought down with little blood, having blamed the disaster on the exploded international research center and all the ensuing losses on the poor guy. Now he is the man who could climb to the top of the pyramid. There's nowhere else to go. Only down, breaking limbs and scattering brains...

“Yes?”

“Message from Mars. The colony provided the codes for identification; we double-checked several times. Here, the decoded message...”

The man read the bouncing lines of the telegram and tried to understand how this was even possible:

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

‘Father. Project completed. As expected, the information was found. Unfortunately, no return channel is possible, but I can provide stable access to Dead End; I have the schematics and installation parameters. Awaiting evacuation. Basil.’

The President gently placed the sheet on the table and asked:

“Again. Where exactly is the message coming from?”

“From the Martian colony. The camp where the survivors were relocated after the epidemic was averted, which...”

“Don't mention the epidemic, I remember... When are we scheduled for the next shift change at the colony?”

“I’m... I'm not sure, but I think five or six years from now. I guess...”

Slowly rising, Livshitz smiled. Just a little. At the very corners of his lips. And he answered, indifferently looking at the whitened face of his assistant:

“You are mistaken. I think we have, at best, a month to get the ship ready and send it to Mars. But I know who is responsible for the successful completion of the mission. And that ‘someone’ is you...”

End of the first book