It was almost 2 a.m. on the third night after Sparks set up his strobe to blink Morse Code. Everything was quiet until the radio crackled to life.
“Hello.”
“Hello,” Sparks mumbled and pulled the blanket up over his head.
“Hello down there.” This was followed by a block of static. “Anybody home?”
“What?” Sparks threw back his blanket.
“Sparks!” Sarge yelled. “Someone’s on the radio.”
“Holy s**t!” Sparks rolled out of bed and grabbed the mic. “Who is it?” He dropped the microphone, then picked it up. “Who’s there?”
“This is Commander Burbank on the Space Station, transmitting on 121.5.”
“Commander, this is Richard Sparks – I mean McAlister. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Richard. Where are you?”
“We’re right here, on the Rhone.”
“Give me the mic, Sparks,” Sarge said.
“Tell him what hap
