There is a thick fog. A low hum, that sounds like a stretched melody,
announces the arrival of a something. But a what?
A black mass arrives out of the fog, it grows bigger and bigger.
It’s a ship. On the attic, a man looks at pictures of an old magazine.
He reads about an Italian warship that disappeared in the arctic sea
in the winter of the year 1945. He reads about scientists who went
to the North Pole to find the ship. They believed it carried a secret weapon.
It is the year 2001. One of the scientists is outside. He builds a snowman
and dresses it with the grey shirt of the goalkeeper of the Italian team.
The other scientist looks at him from his desk. His colleague kicks a ball
and each time when the ball flies past the snowman he runs away to celebrate .
The scientist writes in his notebook:
Baggio che sbaglia rigore contro il Brasile ai mundiali del ’94.
Baresi che non smette di piangere dopo aver sbagliato rigore anche lui.
Mondonico che alza la sedia sopra la testa al stadio Olimpico di Amsterdam.
The man puts down the magazine and picks up other objects.
He thinks of his girlfiend, their visit to a foreign town.
He hears the neighbor Marina call for her son. Scooters pass in the street.
Voices, there are so many voices. The grandfather and the men in the bar,
the transistor radios on Sunday glued to everyone’s ear. Churchbells and old cars.
The doorbell and the aunt who visits his mother.
The televsion and the showgirls dancing to a popular tune.
He returns to the magazine. He reads that the scientists had gone outside. They had heard voices.
They had answered the voices, and received answers again. They returned to their station
and found out that the recording machine had finally picked up a message.