The following day, he radioed the Alert military base, the northernmost year-round settlement on Ellesmere Island. There was no answer. He scanned the other frequencies - all of them - and as he flipped through the bands a surge of dread washed over him. The amateur waves were silent; the emergency communication satellited hummed an empty tune; even the military aviation channels were mute. It was as if there were no radio transmitters left in the world, or perhaps souls to use them. He kept scanning. There was nothing. Only static. He told himself it was a glitch. A storm. He would try again tomorrow.
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