T.E.T Distress
He barged into the ship’s radio room and sat down hard on the wooden chair. The large radio on the desk in front of him was switched on, frequency range lit up light orange with the hand on 146.520. He didn’t know where the radio ended and the transmitter began.
Beneath his right hand was a telegraph key ready to receive an input.
Here was the problem, both of them: he didn’t know what the emergency radio frequency was, and he only knew numbers. He didn’t know what S.O.S was in Morse Code. T was a dash? E was a dot?
So he sent - . - . - . - over and over and over again, hoping whoever was on the other side would figure it out before the ship sank thousands of miles from any land.