Mila was six years old and loved the stars. On the windowsill stood her little rocket Bubble. Next to her sat Piko, a jolly robot with a torch. Today they had an important plan to fly to the moon. Mum waved and the neighbour counted to three. Bubble shuddered, the engine whined, and they took off. The sky was black and the Earth was as tiny as a ball. Piko blinked his diode and listened for a short beep. You can hear it, Piko, someone is calling us from the crater. Mila switched on the lights and flew lower. A box lay on the dust, green and warm. A sign flashed on the lid: three stars and a circle. Don't open it, Piko squealed, it could be an alarm. Mila took off her glove and felt a gentle tremor. A whisper came from the box: - Mila, I need your help. The bubble died down for a second, then everything went quiet. A thin antenna emerged from the sand and twitched. The box tilted a millimetre, and something moved inside.