Chapter Two: The Signal
The following morning, the world pretended nothing had happened.
That was what frightened Mika most.
At 6:00 a.m., electricity was normal.
The internet worked.
Television channels were broadcasting.
People went to school.
Cars moved through the streets.
And the stars were back.
Mika sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast while her father stared at his laptop.
"There are no reports," he said.
"About last night?"
"Nothing."
"That's impossible."
"I know."
He turned the laptop toward her.
A satellite tracking website showed normal orbital paths.
No solar storms.
No unusual electromagnetic activity.
No meteor showers.
Nothing.
"Maybe everyone saw it," Mika said.
Her father looked at her.
"Maybe."
"Then why isn't anyone talking about it?"
He didn't answer.
Mika picked up her phone.
There was one new message.
Unknown sender.
No number.
Just a string of symbols.
Her father noticed.
"Don't open it."
"I wasn't going to."
She opened it.
The screen displayed a single image.
A photograph of the night sky.
Except the stars were arranged differently.
Mika frowned.
She zoomed in.
There.
Near the center of the photograph was a constellation.
Or something that looked like one.
A series of bright dots formed a shape resembling an eye.
Underneath it was a sentence:
LOOK NORTH. 4:13 P.M.
Mika showed her father.
His face changed.
"Where did that come from?"
"I don't know."
"Delete it."
She hesitated.
Then deleted the message.
At exactly 4:13 p.m., Mika stood on the school basketball court.
She had spent the entire day wondering whether she should actually follow the instruction.
Eventually curiosity won.
She looked north.
Nothing.
Just mountains in the distance.
Then her phone vibrated.
A new message.
NOT THE MOUNTAIN. THE RADIO TOWER.
Mika looked again.
On top of the distant hill stood an old communications tower.
It had been abandoned years ago.
She knew the place.
Everyone did.
It was called Station 9.
According to local stories, the government had built it decades earlier to communicate with research
facilities across the Pacific.
It had been abandoned after a lightning strike destroyed its equipment.
Mika stared at it.
Then someone spoke behind her.
"You got one too?"
She turned.
Her classmate Daniel Cruz stood there.
He held up his phone.
Same symbols.
Same message.
Mika stared at him.
"You saw the sky last night?"
Daniel nodded.
"Everyone did."
"No," Mika said. "I mean the voice."
Daniel's expression became serious.
"You heard it too?"
Mika nodded.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Daniel looked toward Station 9.
"I think we're supposed to go there."
Mika sighed.
"I was afraid you'd say that."