"100," she whispered. "244."
"Check the Array’s own logs for 10:16 UTC," she said. Leo’s face went pale. "That’s… now. The message arrived the same second we received it. No propagation delay. It didn’t come from space, Mira. It came through the Array—as if something used our own dish to talk to us." 10.16. 100. 244
She looked at the numbers one last time. They weren't a message anymore. They were a key. "100," she whispered