The Signal's Echo
I spend my nights in a room filled with the ghosts of the universe. My office at the SETI institute in New York is a cluttered mess of monitors, coffee-stained notebooks, and the low, constant hum of the radio telescope arrays in the desert. For twenty years, I have listened to the silence of the stars, waiting for a sign—a prime number sequence, a rhythmic pulse, anything to prove that we are...
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