Aziz's face had vanished with the projection as the normal lighting in Clyella's quarters was restored.

«Will they return?» Flavio asked.

«I don't think so, at least for a while. They have quite a few issues to take care of.»

The Assembly had also had its fair share of issues with Earth in its time. In the weeks that followed, the last remnants of such issues came to light, but everyone knew that their respective resolutions, whether welcome and desired or feared and unpleasant, would inevitably come.

With his brand-new body, standing at a height of one meter and seventy and with proportions resembling a boutique mannequin, Flavio felt completely at ease in the Assembly. For a few days now, he had done without the computer's translation, and that afternoon, for the first time, he was able to appreciate how an extraterrestrial language could aptly describe Earth. He had to admit that it did so better than Earthlings themselves.

About to adjourn the session, Kidhe accepted the resolutions voted on by the Assembly and, with a relieved expression on his face, issued the order to the computer.

«The just-decided neural reconstruction is scheduled in five hours. Computer, send a message to the commissioners informing them that the Earthling's life has been recovered.»

That evening, right after dinner, Flavio showed no interest in the Assembly's social activities and stayed alone in his quarters. He ordered the computer to show him what was happening in the hospital room where his old female body lay.

The morning shift nurses wore masks and latex gloves. As the woman raised the backrest of the bed to put the patient in a sitting position, the other already had the nasogastric tube in hand, preparing to lubricate it.

«This time it's the left nostril,» the woman said, checking the folder. «Be careful with the EEG helmet; it's recording.»

The young nurse replied with a muffled sound from under his mask, without even looking at his colleague, and placed the tube at the entrance of the unconscious girl's nose. The sudden sound of an alarm made him miss his mark and he froze. The woman fixed her gaze on the electroencephalogram monitor.

«What are you doing! I told you to be careful!»

«I didn't touch anything!»

«Oh yes, you did, you broke something. Look there» — the monitor showed signals so noisy they were illegible.

«No, wait... look, it's fixed.»

«What the...» the older nurse furrowed her brow. «Not really, the EEG should be much flatter.»

«Are you sure?»

«Of course I'm sure! I was there when she was admitted.»

«Should we call the doctor?» the young man asked.

«Not now, I know they'll have to repeat the monitoring anyway. Let's feed her. We'll deal with this later.»

The young man bent down again to insert the tube.

«Now open up...» the woman murmured, using a tongue depressor to expose the patient's throat for her colleague.

«Send it down, you're good for the pharynx. It's normal to have to push a bit on the epiglottis, don't worry.»

He was about to check if the tube had reached the gastric juices when a gag from the patient startled him. Then there was a second gag, a cough, and a convulsion. An agitated breath followed, and then a desperate cry. «Stop! Where... where am I? Where's Cristina?»

Flavio stopped the projection shortly after. He announced that he would not be participating in the Assembly's proceedings the next day and went to sleep. In the morning, after having breakfast with Clyella, he continued to examine the events the computer had recorded on Earth.

The patient's awakening had sparked a flurry of medical visits and neurological tests. They had told her straight out that her recovery was a miracle. The constant flow of doctors and nurses around her bed added confusion to the disorientation she felt from not understanding how she had ended up there. She didn't remember the incident they spoke of, let alone make sense of the idea that someone had wanted to shoot her.

She felt clear-headed, yet according to them, she had a memory gap of several months. She repeatedly asked about Cristina and her father, while a doctor with a poker face handed her some cards, asking her to memorize and repeat sequences of shapes, colors, numbers, and words, first with one eye and then with the other, to draw or write them with one hand and then the other.

Both of her parents had been contacted, and from two different cities, they each announced they would catch the first flight to Rome. By late afternoon, they finally arrived at the hospital, her mother first and then Fabrizio.

After emotional embraces that felt surreal and paradoxical to her, they confirmed the story about the mad professor, the shooting, and the hospitalization. Fabrizio had almost finished summarizing the months she couldn't remember when a figure in uniform appeared at the room's door.

Cristina's eyes met her friend's and welled up with tears. She approached the bed with a radiant smile, and the two hugged as if they were holding the most precious thing they could imagine.

«Flavia...» the captain exhaled in a liberating tone.

«You said Flavia? Who's Flavia?»

Cristina's face suddenly turned serious, and she exchanged a glance with Fabrizio. The architect, sitting on the bed, raised his eyebrows.

«Is this a joke?» Cristina tried to smile again. «You've always called yourself that...»

«Are you kidding me... as far as I remember, you've always called me Claudia. That's my name, right?» She looked at Fabrizio for obvious confirmation. «Dad?»

«Yes, of course, that's your name. We call you that in the family, but...»

«But?»

«It must be your memory,» her father tried to downplay the symptom. «Remember that you... don't remember very well.»

Claudia looked up at the ceiling. «Of course... how could I forget.» She grabbed Cristina's hand. «Hey, dad, can you get me a juice, please?»

«Sure,» Fabrizio chuckled. «I'll be back in a bit, you two chat and catch up.»

He put on the jacket he had laid at the foot of the bed and, after walking through the door, closed it behind him. Cristina sat down next to Claudia and smiled. «You look good with short hair.»

She stroked Claudia's tuft of blonde strands, brushing her forehead near the scar. She noted it was hardly visible. Had she not known, she would never have guessed they had opened her skull there to extract a bullet. For the first time in several weeks, she put on a cheerful face. «So, how's your memory? Your dad told me you have amnesia about the past few months.»

Claudia took a deep breath. «What happened in Valdaora?» she asked suspiciously.

«What?»

«The last thing I remember is that we were in the house in Valdaora, in the bedroom, and then we heard that explosion in the lake. When we went downstairs, they saw Flavio rushing out, and we went looking for him. We were afraid he had gone into the lake, so we approached the shore. The next moment, I found myself here, paralyzed, with nurses shoving a tube down my throat... and ten months have passed and you're calling me Flavia?»

Cristina laughed.

«More or less. Only you ran out to look for Flavio before the explosion.»

«No... you're mistaken...»

«I must be mistaken, of course,» Cristina laughed again. «See this scar I have at the base of my hair?»

Claudia shook her head and, pursing her lips in a grimace, crossed her arms.

«That's right,» continued the captain, «I believe that's because they didn't shoot me in the head.»

Claudia swallowed. «Dad told me Flavio brought me here. What has become of him all this time?»

«He joined the project I was working on. He graduated,» Cristina recounted in a flat tone. «He's already climbed up the ranks; I can hardly believe it.»

«Did you stay close to him as I asked you?»

Claudia's eyes became sharp, searching her friend's, who avoided her gaze. «Cristina! You promised!»

«After your accident, I couldn't handle it. I had myself transferred.» Cristina's voice was steady, but the eyes Claudia sought were moist. «It was horrible when you were admitted here.»

«Hey... it's okay. I'm fine now. But for both of you... it's important that you go back to help him. I know he has ideas for your project.» Claudia took Cristina's hand and caressed her cheek. «And also, don't be silly... I know you like him.»

They laughed.

«So, you're coming back to Rome?»

Cristina nodded. «But don't think it's that easy to leave everything behind.»

«Since when do you like easy things?»

It seemed surreal to Cristina that her friend, just out of a two-month coma, was giving her lessons in sensibility. She didn't like it.

«You're incredible! If Flavio had been a bit less stupid, you would've been spared from the nurses shoving that tube down your throat, you know? How much do you care about that guy?»

Claudia stared at her, lips tight, taking a moment to consider what to say. Resigned to not being taken seriously, she looked down before speaking. «If Flavio had really ended up in the lake... I would have dived in after him, I'm telling you, even though I know you wouldn't believe me.»

Cristina shook her head and sighed, a smile curving her lips. «I don't need to believe it. That's exactly what you did.»