The Snare
Before we could recover from the shock, the room filled with a brilliant glare. We turned off our lamps.

The room was approximately twelve feet long and nine feet wide. The ceiling was only a few inches above our heads and when I looked at the smooth, hard metal, I felt as if I were trapped in some alien vault.

The walls of the room were covered with strange drawings and instruments. Here and there, kaleidoscopic lights pulsed rhythmically.

Kane brushed past me and beat his gloved fists against the metal door that had imprisoned us.

"Miller!"

"Yes?"

"See if you can get this thing open from the outside."

I knelt before the door and explored its surface with my fingers. There were no visible recesses or controls.

Over the intercom network, everyone's breath mingled and formed a rough, harsh sound. I could discern the women's quick, frightened breaths that were almost sobs. Kane's breath was deep and strong; Miller's was faltering and weak.

"Miller, get help!"

"I'll—" The sound of his breathing ceased. We listened intently.

"What happened to him?"

"I'll phone Lunar City." My fingers fumbled at the radio controls and trembled beneath the thick gloves.

I turned the dials that would connect my radio with Lunar City....

Static grated against my ear drums.

Static!

I listened to the harsh, erratic sound and my voice was weak by comparison: "Calling Lunar City."

"Static!" Kane echoed my thoughts. His frown made deep clefts between his eyebrows. "There's no static between inter-lunar radio!"

Verana's voice was small and frightened. "That sounds like the static we hear over the bigger radios when we broadcast to Earth."


 Prev. P 4/15 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact