Illustration: “Rover Buggy” © 2006 by Romeo Esparrago
“Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The weed of crime bears bitter fruit. Crime does not pay. The Shadow knows.”
Maniacal laughter echoed into the emptiness of outer space, and for the next twenty minutes Valerie and Maria were transported to an alien world where men in black fedoras and trench coats solved the city’s problems with two .45s and a cigarette, and women in flowing silk gowns puffed out sexy non-sequiturs through a pound of lipstick. It was a world that never quite existed, except in the ether of radioland, but seemed more real now than the sixteen-hundred square feet of their moon base prison.
They had been receiving radio signals in the kilohertz wavelength for the past two weeks. At first they took them for a rescue team, then survivors, then… well, then it became clear what the signals were -– echoes.
“Had a great uncle on my mother’s side. Maybe he was a great, great uncle. I’m not sure. Very old fellow. He still had some of these shows on reel-to-reel recordings. He said people used to gather around the radio every night. Of course, that was before there was TV.” Valerie spoke over the sound of screeching tires and blasting pistols.
“Shhh!”
Valerie waited, but they were losing the signal. Eventually, the Shadow’s mocking laugh faded into the static of star noise.
Maria turned off the speaker. “Sorry. That was the best one yet. I just wish we could hear a whole show.”
Valerie smiled knowingly. “We might soon. The signals seem to be getting stronger. I can program the dishes to track them next time.”
“If there is a next time.” Maria flopped down on the plastic utility couch and closed her eyes.
Posted by planetmagazine 
Posted by planetmagazine 