10.16. 100. 244 Verified Page

She opened a starchart. 100 hours of arc. 244 degrees. A line of sight pointing not outward, but back toward Earth. Toward the buried salt flat beneath them. Toward something that had been asleep for millennia—until 10:16 PM.

She looked at the numbers one last time. They weren't a message anymore. They were a key. 10.16. 100. 244

Mira pulled up the sequence on her own terminal: 10.16. 100. 244. She opened a starchart

"Run it through the standard filters," she told her junior, Leo. He tapped away, frowning. "No source. No reflection pattern. It’s like the signal started inside the mainframe itself." " she told her junior

It was 10:16 PM when the message appeared on the technician’s screen: 100. 244.

"Leo," she said quietly, "start the evacuation protocol."