Mars is a planet of silence and stone. For Botanist Elara, its isolation is a balm, a place where the regimented rhythm of terraforming protocols provides structure. But deep beneath the West Mesa, something is listening.
A routine radar scan reveals an impossible structure: two hundred meters wide, sixty meters deep, and perfectly geometric. It is not ice, not metal, and not human. To report this alien artifact to Mission Control would mean handing over the discovery of a lifetime to military and corporate interests.
