I--- Antonov An 990 -

During the testing phase over the Siberian Exclusion Zone, pilots reported a curious side effect. When the 990 activated its primary resonator, birds fell from the sky not dead, but asleep. Rivers below the flight path stopped flowing—the vibration stilled the meniscus of water into glass. On the ground, listening posts heard nothing. But their teeth ached. Their dreams turned into repeating loops of a single, low C note.

When search teams reached the coordinates two hours later, they found no wreckage. But they found the ground. For a radius of four kilometers, the Siberian permafrost had been compressed into a crystalline lattice. And embedded in that lattice, at perfect mathematical intervals, were the frozen, peaceful faces of the ground crew, smiling as if listening to a favorite song. i--- Antonov An 990

The designation was not a mistake, though the censors wished it were. Scrawled in faded blue pencil on the edge of the technical schematic, the index read: I--- Antonov An-990. During the testing phase over the Siberian Exclusion

The designation “An-990” was retired. The “I” was never explained. But every so often, in the dead of winter, when the wind blows across the Baraba steppe, shepherds swear they hear a low, rhythmic hum coming from beneath the ice. On the ground, listening posts heard nothing