‘Frequency Eight’ by Sophie Ganic

Radio Silence

From Pulp Literature Issue 47, practice self-isolation with Sophie Ganic’s story, ‘Frequency Eight’.

Frequency Eight

by Sophie Ganic

LOG OF HANNAH MEADOWS
[52°16ʹ15.4ʺN 120°42ʹ28.1ʺW]

September 26

I moved the plants today. I’ve noticed the sun is moving more slowly across the nursery. With any luck I’ll be able to grow the tomatoes this year. I dream about them, the tomatoes. I move them with the sun each day. I might get a few ripe ones this season. I wish I could have fresh air, though.

“Fresh air is overrated,” Joe told me once. I suspect he was trying to make me feel better.

He and Richard checked in today, as usual, but still nothing on frequency eight. I loop the broadcast every hour, hoping someone out there hears, but either my radio hasn’t got the juice or there really is no one left, other than Richard and Joe, on the radio.

They get no reply to their broadcasts either. Between the three of us, our signals cover enough ground that anyone out there should hear.

September 28

Static.

I like to think about the day I heard Joe’s voice crackle through my radio for the first time. He’d heard my broadcast. Serendipitous timing, nothing more, brought us together.

My message was the same with each broadcast. “My name is Hannah Meadows and I’m looking for survivors. Please respond if you hear this message.”

Static.

“My name is Hannah Meadows and I’m looking for survivors. Please respond if you hear this message.”

I had been trying to hear something in the grainy sound, and was about to turn my radio off for the day when it suddenly came to life.

“Hello?”

My heart pounded and my questions tumbled out like a storm. “Hello? This is Hannah Meadows. Who is this? Where are you?”

“Hello? My—Joe—lon—” The stranger’s words were punctuated with the harsh buzz of the static. “—located—under my lab in—”

“Joe? Joe, can you hear me?”

“I—two years—started—”

The static whine was all I heard. I sat there clutching the microphone for a good long while.

Since that point, I haven’t been alone. I have Joe.

Find the full story in Pulp Literature Issue 47, Summer 2025

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Sophie Ganic writes cyberpunk and dystopian stories that weave together the speculative and the profoundly human. She explores the what-ifs of technological evolution and the ways these advances can have the power to send us backwards, while drawing on themes of empathy and hope. While she’s nostalgic for the science fiction greats of yesteryear, she is inspired by the relentless pace of innovation, which she uses as a catalyst for examining the relationship between our choices and their consequences. She resides in Vancouver, BC, with her cat.