Day 106 - Note Story

Note Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

It started with the broadcast of a single note and electromagnetic radiation at an extremely low frequency. The signal wasn’t traced. It was seemingly untraceable. It came from above and below and from space and from the core of earth. It didn’t seem to come from man or machine or the sun or the stars. It was just there. It existed. And it was so low and so slight that it was hardly perceivable.

“The universe is frequency. The division between dimensions is vibration.”

“What is it you want from me?”

The team was put together with a mixture of scientists, mystics, anthropologists and occultists. It was an eclectic mix, not necessarily the smartest in any given field, but all with the personal predisposition to believe in the strange, the weird and the secret. They were given tasks, but not told how any of them would relate to the tasks given to any of the others. Most communication was run through an official third party reviewer and fraternization of any kind was discouraged. Still, when you have a few hundred people living in a secret lab, fraternization of some sort is bound to occur.

“I need pitch perfect notes. I need the test subjects to sing them. And I need it broadcast – telepathically.”

“Telepathically?”

“Yes. It’s going to require the connection of all human life.”

“And then what happens?”

It was the musical theorist that was the most suspicious. He had made a career examining the mathematical patterns within the great works of musical history and trying to create theories as to how and why human emotion and memory was so linked to music. He practiced a near daily routine exercise in futility that went something like this: “What are we doing here?” and was answered with: “Don’t ask so many questions.”

“The ELF wave vibrations can influence brain activity. They can scatter brainwaves or rewrite or overwrite them if need be.”

“You’re talking mind control.”

“One of the more obvious applications, yes. And one with many practical benefits. Imagine a docile population – criminals that can be shut off, wars that can be prevented before they begin.”

“Or enemies that will just lie down or kill themselves for you. Or governments that can be overthrown. Or—”

“I have much bigger plans than stealing money or killing a few people.”

Most of the workers were smart enough to realize they shouldn’t ask their benefactors too many questions. Secrecy is always paramount with any sort of scientific research, but when the strange and unusual and the very expensive are added in, then the desire for secrecy is replaced by an overall general paranoia. There were other workers that noticed the musical theorist’s knack for asking questions.

“They’re gonna kill him someday,” commented the quantum theorist.

“They wouldn’t do that,” replied the ancient alien theorist.

“They’d kill us all if we didn’t give them what they wanted.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Are you an idiot? Think about what you’re working on and think about what it’s worth. Now imagine what the rest of us are working on. They are funding an examination of the very nature of the universe and at the same time advanced weapon concepts. Anyone funding those two things together is not going to put up with curiosity or dissent. If this goes wrong, they can’t have anyone on the outside know about it. If this goes right, they might end up destroying or ruling the world. Either scenario, they don’t need us.”

“But they promised we’d get paid…”

“And we still might be. And they might let us go. But one sure way to find out is to question them or to stop working. So the question is do you want to risk not getting paid or risk getting killed?”

“If that’s true, why did you even come here in the first place?”

“The money was good. Amazing, really. I didn’t think about what they wanted or what it could mean. I wish I had.”

“You’re just paranoid.”

“Maybe. But I’m not going to be the first to disappear. Let that musician spout off one time too many. See how quickly he gets replaced.”

“What are we talking about here? What does bigger mean?”

“What if one song could change the fates of man, or the history of the world? Don’t we have a responsibility to discover that?”

“Save me your sales pitches. I’m already involved, aren’t I? What are you trying to do?”

“What if I said we were going to be altering the very fabric of reality? What if I said I believed a single note could shatter or remake reality?”

“I might say you’re the one who is mad.”

“Just imagine – the fabric of reality as a mutable commodity. Rewrite the rules – for yourself, for someone else... for profit... Rewrite them so that no one would ever know the difference. Complementary versions of the same song. Can you hear it? Can you feel it? You’ll never know the difference.”

The hum came and went without too much notice or too many questions. It just started and stopped and no one was any the wiser. But that was okay, that was the purpose after all.