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LU9DCE > ALL 12.03.26 19:34l 47 Lines 1915 Bytes #10 (0) @ WW
BID : 9086_LU9DCE
Subj: SCARY RADIO TALE 12-MAR
Path: ED1ZAC<ED1ZAC<EA5URD<EA2RCF<LU9DCE
Sent: 260312/1816Z 9086@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 40-METER BAND WAS DEAD THAT NIGHT, NOTHING BUT STATIC AND THE
DISTANT WHISPER OF JAPANESE FISHING BOATS, UNTIL MARCUS PICKED UP THE
SIGNAL AT 03:33.
IT WASN'T MORSE. IT WASN'T VOICE. IT WAS BREATHINGWET, RHYTHMIC,
INTIMATE.
"KG7WZR, THIS IS K9OHM," MARCUS TRANSMITTED, HIS FINGER TREMBLING ON
THE KEY. "YOU'RE BLEEDING OVER FREQUENCY. IDENTIFY?"
THE BREATHING STOPPED. THE SPEAKER HISSED. THEN, PERFECTLY CLEAR, HIS
OWN VOICE ANSWERED HIM: "DON'T TURN AROUND, MARCUS. IT LIKES WATCHING
YOU TYPE."
HIS CALL SIGN WAS UNREGISTERED. HIS NAME WAS UNREGISTERED. HE LIVED
ALONE IN THE BASEMENT SHACK, AND THE DOOR BEHIND HIM HAD BEEN LOCKED
SINCE SUNSET.
THE S-METER PEAKED AT S9 PLUS SIXTY. LOCAL. IMPOSSIBLY LOCAL.
SLOWLY, MARCUS SET DOWN THE MICROPHONE. THE BREATHING CONTINUED IN HIS
HEADPHONES, BUT NOW IT SYNCHRONIZED WITH SOMETHING ELSEA DAMP,
RHYTHMIC PRESSURE AGAINST THE BACK OF HIS NECK.
THE RADIO CRACKLED ONE LAST TIME. "YOU'VE BEEN TALKING TO IT FOR THREE
HOURS," HIS VOICE WHISPERED. "IT LEARNED YOUR ACCENT. IT LEARNED YOUR
FREQUENCY. NOW IT'S LEARNED YOUR SHAPE."
THE LIGHTS DIED. IN THE DARKNESS, MARCUS REALIZED THE BREATHING HAD
STOPPED COMING THROUGH THE SPEAKERS.
IT WAS COMING FROM THE HEADSET HE WASN'T WEARING.
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PYTHON PREPROCESSOR - DEVELOPED BY LU9DCE - VERSION 1.1
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