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bright storeroom lights. 
The room is full of weird and wonderful 
objects, wrapped in what looks like cling film, 
with labels facing outwards. You check each 
item until you find what you are looking for – 
“COMMTRAN” and pull away the plastic wrap. 
It’s clearly an old transmitter, the grooves in the 
metalwork filled with a fine grey dust you assume 
must be from the lunar surface. You take it back to 
the workshop.
“Ok, got them. What now?” you ask, a little out of 
breath from hauling the transmitter.
“Now, we get creative. There is a camera mounted 
to a metal arm over the bench. Turn it on - I’ll be 
able to see what you are doing, and we can work 
on it together,” Antonio tells you.
You turn on the camera and hear Antonio’s hum of 
approval.
“Ok, first you need to remove the antenna from 
the old transmitter, it’s that bit sticking out on the 
left-hand side. It should lift out like a cartridge with 
You start hunting in the metallic grey cupboards 
and drawers around the sides of the workshop, 
pulling matching items out one by one. Eventually, 
you have a neat row of components and tools laid 
out on the workbench.
Then you go through to the pitch-black storeroom, 
pushing through rectangles of thick plastic hanging 
from the ceiling of the entrance and search for a 
light switch. As you fumble in the dark along the 
wall, you hear a clattering noise from the workshop 
and freeze. 
Holding your breath, you listen intently. Carefully, 
you tiptoe back to the entrance and inch the plastic 
aside, peeking out into the workshop. You look 
around the room, and your attention is drawn to 
the floor by the workbench. There, slowly rolling 
from side to side, is a screwdriver. It must have fallen 
from the bench.
You blow out a breath and laugh. You have never 
been this on edge before. Shaking your head, you 
go back to feeling along the walls until your hand 
finds the switch, scrunching your eyes against the 

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