"Sierra-Mike-Victor to OMC. Come in, OMC."

Thanks to the advancement in communications technology that replaced old-style analog broadcasts with digital, encrypted, and directional transmissions, not even static greets your transmission when you release the 'transmit' key.

Which, at the moment, is worrisome - at least, with old-style radio transmitters, the static would have let you know the device was working...

Now, all you get is a deep and unbroken silence.

"This is supply shuttle Asimov to Olympus Mons Control - Control, do you read...?"

You silently fume as you gaze out the canopy at the mottled, ruddy surface of Mars. Standard operating procedure demands that the communications console at the Olympus Mons facility be manned at all times - so why are you getting back nothing but silence?

"Damn it, Control - I'm skosh on fuel, hungry, and tired! According to The Book, I'm not supposed to bring this pig down until 'communications have been established' - now, I know you all didn't decide to run off for a day at the beach or some-such, so why'n the hell don't you answer?"