On The Beach.

083

“He went upstairs, and found the main transmitting room, There were two transmitting desks, each with a towering metal frame of grey radio equipment in front of it. One of these sets was dead and silent, the instruments all at zero. The other set stood by the window. and here the casement had been blown from its hinges and lay across the desk. One end of the window frame projected outside the building and teetered gently in the light breeze. One of the upper corners rested on an overturned Coke bottle on the desk. The transmitting key lay underneath the frame that rested ubstably above it, teetering a little in the wind. He reached out and touched it with his gloved hand. The frame rocked on the transmitting key, and the needle of a milliammeter upon the set flipped upwards. He released the frame, anf the needle fell back. There was one of the USS Scorpion’s missions completed, something that they had come the thousand miles to see, that had absorbed so much effort and attention in Australia, on the other side of the world. He lifted the window frame from the transmitting desk and set it down carefully on the floor; the woodwork was not damaged and it could be repaired and put back in its place quite easily. Then he sat down at the desk and with gloved hand upon the key began transmitting in English and in clear. “He sent ‘Santa Maria sending. USS Scorpion reporting. No life here. Closing down.’ “

About mirrenaudax

Slightly greying, bequiffed and enterprising visual artist from Up North.
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