Back on Earth we gauged the pressure, decided it was not strong enough to turn carbon into diamond rain but enough to incite change. We took on new tasks, approached old jobs with renewed determination. After all, we’d made it around the sun again: a revolution to spark a revolution. When we heard all the known matter in the universe could fit into a grain of sand, we took it in our stride; strode across sandy shores anyway, trying not to do the maths. We had been to Titan – a smog-covered moon – we knew what we were getting ourselves into. We laughed too loudly and cried out: If the distance from the sun to Pluto is a ten cent piece then the Milky Way is France!