Called out Part of this is based on fact. In the mid 1980s, I used to listen to the short-wave radio transmissions from around the world. One such broadcast from the old USSR talked about a double train crash, involving nuclear waste. The news never got out. “ICQ Kiev3 to ICQBristol4, over.” “ICQBristol4 to ICQKiev3, over.” “Hello Al, how are things at your end?” “Hi Carl, just the same as usual, nothing much happens here sadly. I can do with some excitement,” I said with resignation. “Yes, sometimes it is like that. Here we are still hiding from the authorities, if they find this transmitter. It could be a camp for us,” Carl, my Russian radio friend replied. “Have you heard from Joe in Texas yet?” “No, I was thinking this call would be from him. I’m a bit worried, he hasn’t been in contact for weeks and that isn’t like him, usually he is so full of himself.” “Al, maybe this pandemic is hitting him worse than he is letting on. You know those Americans don’t like to tell you how they ...