Chapter 1 · free to read
Nothing is scheduled into Hallam between midnight and six. That is the entire job: watch nothing arrive.
The mug had gone cold an hour ago. Nothing on that frequency should have been calling Hallam at all.
There is nothing on the scope. There is nothing on the scope and somebody is demanding a runway from me.
It read them to me in order, the way a steward reads a list. Twenty-nine names. I stopped breathing at the eleventh.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.