Solomon Knight topped off his coffee mug and eased back in the swivel chair, trying to settle his ramshackle body into a position that would ease the twinge in his spine. He managed a healthy swig before the canned acknowledgment for Pharm Barn concluded with its trademark moo, then toggled the pinmike of his cordless headset back on. While his body might have been prey to DJ's Back, ulcers, and a few other annoying ailments, his voice rolled out sweet, rich, round and deep as a multilayer chocolate cake.
"Here we are back again on K-L-P-Y Public Radio with Night Voices, Solomon Knight, Philosopher at Large ready to take your calls." He reached out and tapped the button for line three. "Solomon here. What's on your mind?"
"Solomon? Am I on?" The voice over the headset was youngish and female. He could tell that she was smoking. As usual, that set off a wistful pang of nostalgia for the cigarettes which had once helped keep him company through these long nights. His last wife had made him quit. He'd quit his last wife, but somehow managed to keep from going back to two packs a day. So far.
"You most certainly are. What's your name, and what weighty matter have we to consider?"
"Betty, uh--"
"First name is enough, Betty. Now talk to me."
"Uh, okay. Y'know that UFO thing, right?"
"Yes? What about it?"
Her voice dropped, took on a secretive tone. "I think they're here. Aliens, I mean. And they're taking over people's brains. Y'know, like in that movie."
Sol glanced up. Lori, KLPY's green-haired, nose-ringed night engineer smirked back at him through the studio's glass wall as she wiped a number off a small whiteboard pinned to the wall with the sleeve of her ratty flannel shirt, replacing it with a new one. 132. Betty was the hundred and thirty second caller in the last four days driving a spaceship. His listeners, bless 'em.
"What makes you think that, Betty?" He intoned the obvious next question without a single trace of sarcasm. The smartmouth gig had never been his bag. Although he did on occasion permit himself to indulge in a tasty frisson of irony.
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