<div dir="ltr">Bello! Molto intrigante la storia :)<div><br></div><div>Silvia</div></div><div class="gmail_extra"><br clear="all"><div><div class="gmail_signature" data-smartmail="gmail_signature">------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br>Ci sedemmo dalla parte del torto visto che tutti gli altri posti erano occupati. Bertolt Brecht<br>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br></div></div>
<br><div class="gmail_quote">Il giorno 18 ottobre 2016 11:14, Massimo Gallo <span dir="ltr"><<a href="mailto:keranydd@gmail.com" target="_blank">keranydd@gmail.com</a>></span> ha scritto:<br><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0 0 0 .8ex;border-left:1px #ccc solid;padding-left:1ex"><div dir="ltr">Buongiorno,<div>innanzitutto grazie a Franco per il supporto su titolo e verifica tecnostupidate.</div><div>L'idea è stata quella di mettere dei cadetti davanti alla dura realtà: la Prima Direttiva.</div><div><br></div><div>Spero il brano piaccia e tanti auguri a chi verrà dopo di me.................</div><div><br></div><div>Ciao</div><div><br></div><div>Massimo</div><div><br></div><div>**************</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-caps:small-caps;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">USS Hope – Ponte 3 – 8
Aprile 2395 - Ore 06:30<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-caps:small-caps;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><br></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Yaaawwwwnnnn.....”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Un
sonnacchioso Rodriguez girovagava per il corridoio che conduceva al suo
alloggio.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Il suo turno
sarebbe iniziato fra 30 minuti e lui ancora non era tornato al suo alloggio
dopo esserne uscito 8 ore fa.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Il ciclo di
scommesse clandestine che stava gestendo era durato più del previsto. Certo, il
lato positivo erano i crediti che era riuscito ad accaparrarsi. Quello negativo
le occhiaie che lo avrebbero perseguitato durante tutto il prossimo turno.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Di fronte a
lui nel corridoio una pimpante Caytlin lo salutò con un sorriso. La giovane
risiana stava sorseggiando da una tazza quello che sembrava essere un liquido
caldo. Stava parlando con il cadetto Mellor, della cartografia.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Paulo ricambiò
lento il saluto mentre una porta alla sua destra si aprì all’improvviso.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Una figura ne
uscì veloce fermandosi a qualche centimetro dal Capo Operazioni.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Buongiorno Rodriguez.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">L’andoriana,
la cui uniforme sempre perfettamente stirata era l’invidia di buona parte dei
cadetti, sovrastava l’addormentato umano ferma sulla porta dell’alloggio.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Oh, buongiorno
Xyr... cioè Signora... volevo dire Guardiamar... cioè Comandante.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Xyr superò
lenta Rodriguez e si incamminò nel corridoio. Notando Caytlin le si avvicinò
con le mani dietro la schiena.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Dal profumo
direi tisana kelarita ai fiori di Dac. Ottima scelta.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Caytlin
sorrise raggiante senza dire una parola.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Buongiorno anche
a lei signor Mellor, ottimo lavoro con quella mappatura del settore due. Mi
assicurerò personalmente che il Capitano Bueller sia informato di questo.... e
che sia presente quando lei e il suo team esporrete nei dettagli i risultati
ottenuti.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Salutando il
consigliere con un lieve ed elegante cenno della testa ed un sorriso, Xyr si
incamminò verso il turbolift ad una decina di metri da loro per poi entrarci.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Rodriguez era
rimasto immobile inebetito davanti alla porta da cui era uscita Xyr. O un clone
dell’andoriana. O qualsiasi cosa si fosse impossessata di lei.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Caytlin si
avvicinò a Paulo. La porta dell’alloggio era rimasta aperta perchè il sensore
era bloccato dalla presenza di Rodriguez.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">La risiana,
sorseggiando la tisana, mise curiosa la testa all’interno.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">La stanza
sembrava essere stata colpita da un uragano. I mobili erano capovolti o
spostati. I quadri alle pareti erano a terra. I cuscini del piccolo divano
erano sparsi per la stanza. Una fievole luce arrivava dalla camera da letto. Il
percorso tra la porta e il letto era disseminato di pezzi di un’uniforme. Uno
stivale era appeso ad una luce.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Il materasso
era per metà caduto dal letto. Sopra di esso un corpo coperto solo da una parte
di lenzuolo russava distrutto.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Rodriguez
guardò Caytlin che, sempre sorseggiando la tisana, lo allontanò lentamente
dalla porta permettendole di chiudersi.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Consigliere....
cosa sta succedendo?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">I meravigliosi
occhi di Caytlin si illuminarono ancora di più.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Beh, il
Comandante Xyr è semplicemente..... felice.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Rodriguez si
grattò il mento stupito.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Siamo
bloccati qui da quasi due settimane a fare esecitazioni, test di ogni tipo,
corsi di aggiornamento. Stiamo scrivendo procedure per ogni cosa. Ogni membro
dell’equipaggio ripete fino allo sfinimento le proprie mansioni. Ci sono report
di analisi che la stessa Xyr compila e presenta ad ognuno di noi. È una noia
mortale anche se la nave funziona al 96% della sua efficienza........”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Sono convinta
Xyr la pensi in modo diametralmente opposto da lei. Da quando la conosco è la
prima volta che la vedo sorridere.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><span> </span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-caps:small-caps;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">USS Hope – Plancia – 8
Aprile 2395 - Ore 11:40<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-caps:small-caps;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><br></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><i><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Indaco.... è in una fase meditativa.<span></span></span></i></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Rest, che
probabilità abbiamo che il settimo test sul reindirizzamento del flusso di
plasma nei condotti dal 18 al 24 possa dare un esito diverso dai precedenti 6?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Bueller fece
la domanda stropicciandosi gli occhi con fare stanco e annoiato.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><i><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Una sfumatura di nero.... depressione.</span></i><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“0,37%”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“0,37%.....
sono l’unico ad avere avuto un brivido a questa notizia?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Bueller si
alzò dalla sua poltrona sofferente.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Xyr, cosa
abbiamo in agenda per le prossime ore?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">L’andoriana
digitò qualche comando sulla tastiera inserita nel bracciolo.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Test di
integrità strutturale hangar 2. Procedura di emergenza in caso di riduzione percentuale
di ossigeno in sala mensa. Riunione per la riorganizzazione dei team in base ai
nuovi turni. Controlli medici sul personale di ingegneria e di sicurezza in base
ad una lista già condivisa dalla Dottoressa Graahm. Esercitazione di volo su
navetta. Riemissione standard di sicurezza alimentare su replicatori nei ponti
3, 6, 7. Il signor Doohan chiede di testare la consistenza della matrice dimensionale
del nucleo di curvatura per poter riallineare i sistemi hericon del flusso
beta. L’energia dei sensori verrà dirottata alla sezione cartografia alle ore 12
di oggi per almeno un paio di ore per le analisi delle emissioni della stella
di questo sistema in contemporanea con le procedure di evacuazione di emergenza
al teletrasposto 3.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><i><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Viola.... sta andando verso una deriva
malinconica.<span></span></span></i></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Teletrasporto
3? Non l’abbiamo fatto ieri?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“No, ieri è
stato fatto il test sul ponte 2, teletrasposto 4.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Ah... ecco.
Nel frattempo anche a scuola. Adoro la vita su questa nave... Aspetti un attimo
Numero Uno. Ha detto Teletrasporto 3?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Bueller si
avvicinò velocemente al bracciolo della sua postazione e digitò veloce un paio
di comandi. Un enorme sorriso si stampò sul suo viso.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><i><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Giallo.... si sta risvegliando come
liberato da un peso.<span></span></span></i></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Ecco, certo,
proprio quello. Esattamente come pensavo. Assolutamente da verificare per il
bene della nave. Non ci sono dubbi. Mi chiedo come si possa fare a mandare
avanti la cosa senza una supervisione diretta.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><i><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Arancione.... si sta accendendo una
sensazione di ambizione, di allegria.<span></span></span></i></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Non si
preoccupi Numero Uno, ci penso io. A lei ecco.... l’incarico di dirigere le
operazioni giornaliere. Io mi occuperò personalmente di questa cosa. A lei la
plancia Comandante Xyr. Mi raccomando, mi tenga sempre aggiornato.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><i><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Rosso.... fame? No.... istinto.... no
sessualità repressa.<span></span></span></i></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Bueller finì
l’ultima frase già all’interno del turbolift.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Xyr e Rest si
guardarono pensierosi. Persino Luna che conosceva meglio di tutti Ferris, si
voltò incuriosita verso il turbolift dove il suo amico si era diretto veloce.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Basta increspò
leggermente le labbra come ad accennare un lievissimo sorriso. Le sue
percezioni si stavano focalizzando. Un allenamento costante lo avrebbe portato
alla perfezione e questa nave era una fucina di informazioni. Quasi tutti erano
costanti nei loro colori. Bianco, blu, rosso fuoco. Sfumature diverse, ma
sempre legate al loro colore primario.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Non Bueller.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">In poco meno
di 5 minuti era passato da una lunghezza d’onda all’altra. Da un opposto
all’altro. Era un arcobaleno vivente.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Il Primo
Ufficiale richiamò sul suo schermo l’ultima ricerca di Bueller. Qualcosa non le
quadrava.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Il Capitano
aveva appena controllato i turni. L’andoriana scorse le informazioni. Bueller
aveva aperto il file delle assegnazioni del personale.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Sala
teletrasporto 3. Cadetto Gorshkova, Yuliya....”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Xyr cliccò sul
file personale del cadetto e due bellissimi occhi color ghiaccio comparvero
sullo schermo. Una ciocca di capelli biondi lasciata maliziosamente libera
imperlava il viso perfetto.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Bueller!!!!”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><span> </span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-caps:small-caps;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">USS Hope – Laboratorio
2  – 8 Aprile 2395 - Ore 14:20<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-caps:small-caps;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><br></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Takeru Hori
osservò i dati sullo schermo.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Il Sole del
sistema stava emettendo energia elettromagnetica da giorni. Le conseguenze sui
due pianeti abitati erano altalenanti.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Cheyrou 1 e
Cheyrou 2 erano i nomi scelti per i due planetoidi. Poca fantasia, ma questo
era lo standard.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">La diversa
distanza dalla stella primaria e la diversa conformazione dell’atmosfera erano fattori
importanti per l’influenza che le emissioni solari avevano su di loro.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Cheyron 1, nonostante
la prossimità alla stella, era meglio schermato da un campo magnetico interno
che defletteva la maggior parte delle radiazioni. Quello che non si poteva evitare
erano comunque le modifiche climatiche che stavano decimando la flora e la
fauna locali. Anche la popolazione stava cominciando a soccombere sotto questi
sbalzi di clima. Regioni prima calde erano ora sommerse da uno strato di
ghiaccio. In contrapposizione le montagne prima ghiacciate ora stavano
riversando a valle oceani di acqua portando con sè villaggi, campi coltivati e
tutto quello che trovavano sul loro cammino.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Il popolo che
viveva su Cheyrou 1 era decisamente condannato. La loro “tecnologia” più
avanzata consisteva nell’aver modellato dei metalli per crearsi monili e
utensili. I loro villaggi erano di legname prima accatastato e poi ricoperto di
fanghiglia. Nessuna protezione contro gli eventi naturali. Avrebbero vissuto un
periodo transitorio dove il 95% della popolazione sarebbe morto.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Al contrario
Cheyrou 2 era notevolmente più avanti.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Takeru aveva
paragonato i due pianeti a periodi storici terrestri. Era molto più facile per
lui quando cercava di descriverli a qualcuno.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Cheyrou 1 era
appena entrato nell’Età dei Metalli, cioè un periodo storico dove la
popolazione locale aveva iniziato la lavorazione dei metalli per
costruire i primi utensili, abbandonando l'utilizzo della pietra.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Cheyrou 2 era
invece in pieno Medioevo. Stavano già utilizzando carrucole, verricelli, aratri
meccanici, bussole, bardature per animali, il corrispettivo di una polvere da
sparo per le armi, mentre gli edifici presentavano già strutture con volte a
crociera, archi e colonne.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">La sua
atmosfera tuttavia era molto più sottile e gli effetti nocivi del sole avrebbero
influenzato drammaticamente la vita. Il campo magnetico del pianeta era
particolare. Spesso sembrava ci fossero due campi magnetici sovrapposti e
indipendenti.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Da una prima
analisi Cheyrou 2 sarebbe sopravvissuto come pianeta, ma a costo di una
decimazione notevole della popolazione mondiale. Circa il 50%. Qualche milione
di persone.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Takeru era
stato incaricato da Tucci, come suo superiore, di monitorare gli effetti
naturali sui due pianeti.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Un compito
come un altro. Poteva utilizzare i sensori della Hope a suo piacimento,
scandagliare la superficie dei due pianeti senza il rischio di dover
giustificare la cosa con le popolazioni locali, poteva chiedere al
teletrasporto di raccogliere campioni di materiale biologico o minerali dal
pianeta.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Col passare
dei giorni aveva cominciato però ad affezionarsi ai due pianeti.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Dalla sua
postazione privilegiata li vedeva come il figlio curioso di un Dio che guarda dall’alto
le creature create da suo padre. Un’immagine strana, lo ammetteva
tranquillamente mentre si rilassava con i suoi colleghi. Tutto il potere che la
Hope aveva tramite la tecnologia e nessuna volontà di salvare quelle vite. Come
se non dovesse importare se milioni di persone ti morivano davanti sapendo di
avere il potere quasi divino di salvarli.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Takeru ne
aveva anche parlato con il Consigliere che era stata molto conciliante, ma non
era riuscita a rilassarlo.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">L’unica cosa
che era chiara e che creava un dilemma etico era la Prima Direttiva cui tutti
loro avevano giurato di rispettare: <i>“Il
divieto per tutti i contatti che potrebbero influenzare le civiltà meno
progredite inquinandone lo sviluppo culturale, in tutti quei mondi il cui
progresso tecnologico non è ancora giunto alla scoperta della propulsione a
curvatura, tecnologia che permette alle navi stellari di superare la velocità
della luce e di conseguenza il viaggio interstellare, aprendo la via al contatto
con altre forme di vita e civiltà.”</i><span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Takeru stava
per staccare il suo turno quando un’immagine si materializzò sullo schermo.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Come una
nebbia che si dirada rendendo visibile quello che c’è davanti, agli occhi del
cadetto comparve quello che poteva essere un nuovo continente e strane luci su strutture
metalliche disseminate su di esso. Allo sbattere delle ciglia sullo schermo non
c’era più nulla.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><i><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Sto guardando da troppo tempo queste
immagini. Ho bisogno di una pausa.</span></i><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Takeru si
stiracchiò sulla sedia mentre l’immagine ricomparve improvvisamente. Quasi
caddè dalla sua postazione.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Tucci!!!!”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><span> </span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-caps:small-caps;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">USS Hope – Sala
teletrasporto 3  – 8 Aprile 2395 - Ore
15:02<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-caps:small-caps;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><br></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“....a questo
punto il flusso di materia viene immagazzinato nel pattern buffer. Questo
permette al sistema interno di compensare lo spostamento Doppler tra
la Hope e la destinazione. Il buffer è anche un dispositivo di sicurezza in
caso di malfunzionamento.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Bueller era
appoggiato coi gomiti con fare sornione sulla consolle del teletrasporto.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Affascinante....
questo quindi permetterebbe di rimaterializzare il soggetto in un'altra unità
di teletrasporto della nave.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Esatto
Capitano. Semplice, vero?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Beh, Yuliya,
è lei che è un’insegnante fantastica. Non so praticamente nulla di
teletrasporto. Sto imparando di più con lei in questi 30 minuti che in tutti i
corsi in Accademia. Ovviamente ho ancora molti dubbi e lei capisce, con il mio
ruolo devo essere a conoscenza di tutto. Stavo pensando, sarebbe disposta ad
aiutarmi ad approfondire la cosa? Non so, magari a cena... e lasciamo stare
questa cosa del Capitano. Le amiche mi chiamano Ferris.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Ferris....”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Un largo
sorriso si materializzò sul viso dell’addetto al teletrasporto mentre le porte
della sala teletrasporto si spalancarono.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Capitano
Bueller, è impegnato?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Xyr,
accompagnata da Tucci, aveva fatto capolino nella sala.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Numero Uno?
No, assolutamente, stavo discutendo con il cadetto Gorshkova di .... ecco...
procedure di teletrasporto.” Un occhiolino rivolto a Yuliya fece arrossire
l’addetta al teletrasporto.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Xyr osservò la
scena.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Sicuramente
avrà condiviso con lei le informazioni che ha appreso durante il suo corso
intensivo su tecniche di teletrasporto. Quello dove ha ottenuto il massimo dei
voti durante lo scorso anno e redatto quella tesi sperimentale sul teletrasporto
di emergenza.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Ferris rimase
immobile con un’espressione assente.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Yuliya Gorshkova
osservò Bueller mentre il suo viso passò dal pudico rossore precedente ad un
acceso rossore di rabbia.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Non so
praticamente nulla di teletrasporto.... parole sue <i>Capitano</i>?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Bueller si
sistemò la divisa e tossicchiando fece cenno a Xyr e Tucci di seguirlo fuori
dalla sala.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Appena le
porte si chiusero guardò i suoi ufficiali con aria di rimprovero. Aria che mutò
immediatamente verso il colpevole quando faticò a sostenere lo sguardo fisso
dell’andoriana.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Il Signor
Tucci mi ha informata di una grossa novità. Vuole spiegarla anche al Capitano
per favore?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Tucci sembrava
come sempre intento a scrutare qualcosa che solo lui era in grado di vedere.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Il silenziò
durò più del dovuto.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Tucci....”.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">L’Ufficiale
Scientifico si destò dai suoi pensieri.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Tucci? Tucci chi?
Tucci io? Ah sì, giusto giusto, Tucci. Ecco Capitano. Come sa stiamo
monitorando i due pianeti abitati del sistema per tarare i sensori a lungo
raggio in modo da creare un’interferenza sovrapponibile all’effetto che avviene
con la luce nell’iridescenza. In questo caso la luce viene riflessa con diverse
tonalità in base all’angolo dell’osservatore mentre per i nostri sensori....
dal suo sguardo credo lei abbia di nuovo perso il filo. Stia attento Capitano,
lo rispiego. Secondo la teoria....”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Bueller
spalancò gli occhi allibito.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Io ho perso
il filo?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Xyr intervenne
prima che Bueller degenerasse.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Visto che io
sono stata attenta e non ho perso il filo le faccio un breve riassunto.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Bueller
osservò Xyr con occhi ancora più spalancati.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Il team del
Signor Tucci ha monitorato gli effetti della stella di questo sistema sui
pianeti abitati. Hanno una civiltà poco avanzata e non saranno in grado di
fronteggiare gli sconvolgimenti conseguenti. Poco da dire su questo. La Prima
Direttiva ci impedisce ogni interferenza quindi non è questo il problema.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Non è questo
il problema? Nemmeno l’aspetto etico?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">L’andoriana
soppesò per un attimo le parole di Bueller.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“No, nessun
problema etico. Prima Direttiva ricorda? Basta attenersi alle regole. Comunque
stavo dicendo che improvvisamente sui sensori è comparso quello che prima non
c’era. Un piccolo continente con diverse città che tecnologicamente potrebbero
essere quasi 2000 anni più progredite del resto degli abitanti.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“E non
l’abbiamo visto prima? Nessuno l’ha mai visto? Un continente?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Tucci
intervenne.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“In quella
zona il campo magnetico del pianeta è particolare. Erano schermati da un campo
gravitazionale naturale che curva le onde EM. In pratica erano occultati. Le
emissioni elettromagnetiche della stella unite ad un’atmosfera non propriamente
schermante deve aver sovraccaricato la copertura portandoli allo scoperto. Lo
stesso campo magnetico crea una strana barriera. Da qualche analisi preliminare
gli abitanti di quella zona del pianeta non hanno mai potuto superare quella
barriera. Non credo sappiano che il pianeta sia più esteso.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Ah...”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“C’è un altro
problema.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Non mi
dica.....”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Devono
essersi resi conto in qualche modo della nostra presenza. Stanno cercando di
contattarci.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Bueller
sospirò.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“A che livello
di tecnologia sono?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Decisamente
precurvatura, ma abbastanza progrediti da avere il dubbio che qualcuno li stia
osservando. O magari la certezza che qualcuno li stia osservando. E parliamo di
un popolo progredito e dalle prime analisi non potranno scambiarci per
divinità, ma realmente per <i>alieni.</i>”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Scusate, ma
come possono coesistere due società così diverse dal punto di vista
dell’evoluzione eppure così vicine?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Tucci si
guardò i piedi per un attimo.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Un
cataclisma.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Certo Signor
Tucci sarà un cataclisma, ma intendevo....”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Un cataclisma
passato. Quel campo elettromagnetico che li ha oscurati deve averli protetti da
una precedente catastrofe planetaria. Ipotizziamo che il pianeta si sia trovato
in questa situazione in passato. La stella ha distrutto il resto del pianeta,
ma quel guscio elettromagnetico li ha mantenuti al sicuro. Loro sono andati
avanti per la loro strada mentre il resto del pianeta ha ricominciato da capo. Come
detto lo stesso scudo credo abbia impedito loro di uscire e di colonizzare il
resto del pianeta, ma questo non lo so. Devo studiare la situazione.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Bueller e Xyr
si osservarono per qualche istante.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Numero Uno
cosa ne pensa?”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">Xyr spostò le
braccia da dietro la schiena fino a portarle incrociate al petto.<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“Non credo ci
sia nulla da dire. La Prima Direttiva è chiara. Ci hanno contattati, ma se non
rispondiamo e ci allontaniamo non ci saranno problemi.”<span></span></span></p>

<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial">“A mio avviso
Numero Uno un primo contatto già c’è stato. Lei se ne andrebbe e li lascerebbe qui
a morire? Direi che forse questa volta è una decisione che non possiamo
prendere alla leggera. Xyr, tra 30 minuti voglio tutti gli ufficiali in sala tattica.
Abbiamo della gente da salvare.”<span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><br></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"><br></span></p><p style="font-size:12.8px;margin-bottom:0.0001pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial"><span style="font-size:9pt;font-family:verdana,sans-serif">==============================</span><span style="font-size:9.5pt;font-family:arial,sans-serif"><wbr>======</span><span style="font-size:9pt;font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><br><span style="background-image:initial;background-repeat:initial">Comandante Xyr</span></span><span style="font-size:9.5pt;font-family:arial,sans-serif"></span></p><p style="font-size:12.8px;margin-bottom:0.0001pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial"><span style="background-image:initial;background-repeat:initial"><span style="font-size:9pt;font-family:verdana,sans-serif">USS Hope - NCC-25122</span><br><span style="font-size:9pt;font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span style="background-image:initial;background-repeat:initial">Private communicator:</span> </span><span lang="IT" style="font-size:9pt;font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><a href="mailto:keranydd@gmail.com" target="_blank"></a></span><a href="mailto:keranydd@gmail.com" target="_blank"><span style="background-image:initial;background-repeat:initial"><span lang="EN-US">keranydd@gmail.<wbr>com</span></span></a></span></p><p style="font-size:12.8px;margin:0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial"><span lang="IT" style="font-size:9pt;font-family:verdana,sans-serif">Skype: keranydd1</span><span lang="IT" style="font-size:9.5pt;font-family:arial,sans-serif"></span></p><p style="font-size:12.8px;margin-bottom:0.0001pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial"><span lang="IT" style="font-size:9pt;font-family:verdana,sans-serif"><span style="background-image:initial;background-repeat:initial">==============================</span><wbr>=====</span><span lang="IT" style="font-size:9.5pt;font-family:arial,sans-serif"><br><span style="background-image:initial;background-repeat:initial">“fatti non foste a viver come bruti, ma per seguir virtute e canoscenza"</span> - Alighieri Dante</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0.0001pt;line-height:normal"><span style="font-size:10pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-size:initial;background-repeat:initial;background-origin:initial;background-clip:initial"></span></p><p style="font-size:12.8px;margin-bottom:0.0001pt;background-image:initial;background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial"><span style="background-image:initial;background-repeat:initial"><span lang="IT" style="font-size:9pt;font-family:verdana,sans-serif">“....e il regolamento” – Xyr del Clan Clos</span></span></p></div></div>
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