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LU9DCE > ALL 10.03.26 19:34l 48 Lines 1921 Bytes #10 (0) @ WW
BID : 8916_LU9DCE
Subj: SCARY RADIO TALE 10-MAR
Path: ED1ZAC<ED1ZAC<EA5URD<EA2RCF<LU9DCE
Sent: 260310/1815Z 8916@LU9DCE.TOR.BA.ARG.SOAM LinBPQ6.0.25
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PACKET RADIO STATION - BUENOS AIRES (GF05OM)
PYTHON SCHEDULED NEWSLETTERS (PSN)
COPYRIGHT 2026 - EDUARDO A. CASTILLO
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THE STORM HAD KILLED THE POWER TWO HOURS AGO, LEAVING ARTHUR ALONE
WITH HIS BACKUP GENERATOR AND THE AMBER GLOW OF THE TRANSCEIVER. AT
2:00 AM, THE SPEAKER CRACKLED TO LIFE ON FREQUENCY 14.275 MHZA DEAD
BAND VACANT SINCE THE COLD WAR.
"NOVEMBER ALPHA ONE ROMEO ECHO," THE VOICE WHISPERED.
ARTHUR FROZE. IT WAS HIS OWN CALL SIGN.
HE GRABBED THE MICROPHONE. "WHO IS THIS? IDENTIFY."
STATIC BREATHED THROUGH THE SPEAKER. THEN: "CHECK YOUR BEARING."
ARTHURS HANDS TREMBLED AS HE SWITCHED ON THE DIRECTION FINDER. THE
NEEDLE SPUN WILDLY BEFORE LOCKING AT 180 DEGREESDIRECTLY BENEATH THE
FLOORBOARDS.
HE DESCENDED INTO THE BASEMENT WITH A FAILING FLASHLIGHT. THE SIGNAL
STRENGTH PEAKED WITH EACH STEP, THE S-METER GLOWING RED. BEHIND THE
WATER HEATER, COVERED IN DUST AND MOLD, SAT A SECOND MICROPHONE.
ANTIQUE. DISCONNECTED.
THE TRANSMIT LIGHT GLOWED STEADY CRIMSON.
"ARTHUR," THE SPEAKER GURGLED. IT WAS HIS OWN VOICE, WET AND
DESPERATE. "DON'T GO BACK UP. ITS WEARING YOUR FACE."
THE LIGHTS DIED. ABOVE HIM, THE FLOORBOARDS GROANED UNDER HEAVY,
UNFAMILIAR FOOTSTEPS.
THE MICROPHONE IN HIS HAND GREW WARM AS THE PTT BUTTON PRESSED DOWN BY
ITSELF, AND HE HEARD HIS OWN SCREAMS ECHO FROM THE SPEAKERHOURS BEFORE
HE HAD THE CHANCE TO MAKE THEM.
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PYTHON PREPROCESSOR - DEVELOPED BY LU9DCE - VERSION 1.1
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