1661381569nyus002:42:38 Min -

The terminal chimed again. The code changed. 1661381569nyus002:43:01 Max

"Minimum threshold reached," Elias whispered, his heart hammering against his ribs. 1661381569nyus002:42:38 Min

"Max," Elias breathed, his hand hovering over the emergency broadcast button. "Maximum proximity." The terminal chimed again

He looked out the observation port. Jupiter loomed like a bruised giant, indifferent and vast. Somewhere in that swirling chaos, NYUS-02 had just woken up something that had been waiting for a billion years. "Max," Elias breathed, his hand hovering over the

A single line of high-priority encryption flashed across the console: 1661381569nyus002:42:38 Min

In the jargon of the New York University Space (NYUS) program, "Min" didn't mean minutes. It meant Minimum Biological Signature . The probe hadn't found a mineral deposit or a gas pocket. It had found something breathing.

The lights on the station flickered. Outside, the stars didn't look like points of light anymore. They looked like eyes.