M Banner - Silo - Hope's Return

“This is useless,” Krista said to Summer in the Command and Control Center as she put down the microphone and sat back in the chair, letting out a sigh. “We’ve been at this for hours. There’s nobody out there.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Lipton said.

“That nobody’s out there?”

“No, that you’d give up so easily. It’s obvious. You are a woman of weak character.”

Krista ignored the man, even though she wanted to thump him every time he opened his mouth. Instead, she brought her attention to Summer. “It’s time to call it quits and focus on more important things. Like figuring out what we’re going to do about the impending food shortage and that damn bacteria.”

“Which is precisely why we’re doing this,” Lipton said.

Krista shot Lipton daggers with her eyes. “Look, asshat, you’re not part of us . So don’t be including yourself in this ‘we’ business.”

“I beg to differ. Your survival is my survival.”

“Assuming we decide to keep you around longer than an hour from now.”

“For your sake, you may need to rethink that position. Especially now that your man Morse is no longer viable.”

Krista shook her head, forcing the tension in her chest to remain where it was. “No longer viable? Seriously? That’s what you call the horrible death of one of our closest friends?” She looked at Summer. “This is what happens when we listen to a man who has his own agenda. Nothing but a giant waste of time. Talk about diarrhea of the mouth.”

Summer twisted her lips, tapping a hand on Krista’s back. “We still have a few channels left. Let’s give them a try, then we’ll decide. As a group.”

“Then we’ll need to bring Liz in on this.”

“Of course,” Summer said, turning to Wicks, who was still at his post by the exit. “Go get Liz. Tell her we need her.”

“Roger that,” Wicks said, turning on the heels of his combat boots and disappearing in a flash.

Ten minutes later, after two more failed attempts, Krista reset the transmitter to use the last frequency on Lipton’s list. She picked up the microphone. “Mayday. Mayday. This is Eagle Base. Is anyone out there? Please respond. This is Eagle Base broadcasting a general distress call to anyone in range. Please respond. Over.”

The speaker on the radio resumed its chorus of crackling static, as the group waited for someone to respond.

After another minute ticked by, Krista picked up the mic and sent the same message across the airwaves, this time deciding to ramp up the intensity in her voice. If this was to be the last attempt, she wanted it to be louder and more urgent. Not because she expected someone to answer; more so to finish with her best attempt, before getting up and calling it quits.

“I’ve got a question,” Summer said to Lipton.

“Sure, fire away.”

“How do we know our signal is getting out?”

“It is, trust me.”

“I’d like to, but what if those connector clips I used on the terminals aren’t attached properly? Wouldn’t that screw up the antenna side of things?”

“Possibly.”

“Maybe we should check?”

Lipton flared an eyebrow. “I take it you mean me. I should check.”

“Yep.”

Lipton walked to the junction box and bent down, using his fingers to inspect the alligator clips. He popped back up a second later. “No issues here.”

“Like I said, this is pointless,” Krista said, just as the static on the speaker changed. It was no longer random bits of hiss. There were now quiet segments interrupting the noise, with a few squelched pops mixed in.

“Hold on,” Summer said, leaning in close to the unit. “Do you hear that? It’s different.”

“Try again,” Lipton said in a hurried voice, his forehead creased.

Krista used the mic. “This is Eagle Base. Is anyone there? Please respond. We need your assistance. Over.”

“We read you, Eagle Base. This is Blackstone. Come back. Over,” a man’s voice responded, just cutting through the static.

Krista scooted forward in the chair, her heartbeat shooting to double its normal level. “Yes, we read you, Blackstone. But your signal is weak. Can you boost? Over.”

Summer put a hand on Krista’s wrist, pushing the microphone away. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“What?”

“Blackstone. Is that a person or base?”

“Good question.”

“You realize it doesn’t matter,” Lipton said. “We need their help either way.”

“Yes, it does matter,” Krista answered. “We need to know who we’re dealing with. That’s why Edison was against this from the start. We don’t know who’s left out there or what risk they might pose.”

“Just so you know, Morse always thought he could get Stuart to change his mind,” Summer said.

“Never would’ve happened,” Krista said. “I’m pretty sure he only let Morse work on the radio to keep him busy. He would have never authorized its use. It was too big a threat.”

“Well, obviously things have changed. On so many levels,” Summer said.

The frequency came alive again, this time with more signal strength than before. “Eagle Base. Eagle Base. This is Blackstone. How’s the signal now? Over.”

Krista held back her excitement, making sure her voice remained calm and consistent. “We read you five by five. Over.”

“We didn’t think anyone was on this frequency. Over.”

Krista pressed the transmit button again. “Well, we are and we’re damn glad to hear your voice, Blackstone. Over.”

“What kind of emergency are you experiencing? Over.”

“Food stores are running low and we have mouths to feed, including women and children. Can you assist? Over.”

“Hold on,” the man said, the speaker returning to its uneven melody of hiss.

“I wonder where they are?” Summer asked.

“Could be clear across the country,” Lipton said, “assuming that antenna is doing its job. Possibly farther.”

“Let’s hope not, otherwise there’s no chance of getting help anytime soon,” Krista said.

“Eagle Base, are you still receiving? Over.” the man on the radio asked.

“Yes, Blackstone. Standing by. Over.”

“I’ve talked to my commander and she’s willing to discuss a possible trade. Over.”

“His commander?” Summer asked, just as Wicks arrived with Liz.

“What did I miss?” Liz asked.

“We just contacted a base called Blackstone,” Summer said. “And it’s run by a woman. Just like us. How about that?”

“A base? Where?” Liz asked.

“Let’s find out,” Krista said, bringing the mic back to her mouth. “What’s your twenty, Blackstone? Over.”

There was a pause before the frequency came alive again. “I’m sorry, but I can’t divulge that information. Over.”

Krista swung her eyes to Summer. “And I thought we were paranoid.”

Summer shrugged. “Can you blame them? They probably never expected anyone to ever be out here.”

“You’re wasting your breath. They’re never going to tell you,” Lipton said. “Would you?”

“Wanna bet?” Krista said, looking at him for a few beats before bringing the mic back into position. “Blackstone, this is Eagle Base. Can you give us a general idea of your location? Are you in the USA? Over.”

“Roger that, Eagle Base. Pacific Northwest. What’s your twenty? Over.”

Summer put her hand over the microphone and wrapped her fingers around Krista’s. “Wait a minute. Let’s think about this. What if this is some kind of trap? I mean, who calls themselves Blackstone anyway?”

“Probably a black site,” Wicks said, “as in CIA. Don’t trust them.”