In High Frequency

YEAR 2500002022

5 PM SONORON CENTRAL TIME

LIVE

“MYSTERIES OF THE OLD WORLD”

EDUCATIONAL RADIO BROADCAST

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Yet, we can all hear it now from behind the main console. One intrusive sound, a roar rather than a regular sound, transforming the tissues of our bodies into one infinite magma. This sound is far from the usual quiet mouse honouring us with its presence. Not this time! This time the transition through the airlock chamber resounds with a savage shriek smashing the air into molecules, hollow and stupefying, like a tin drum lost in the grip of death, as if the loudest conversations or thumping music could not be silenced by simply turning or pressing a single button. The Doppler effect worthy of our time. Not only does this sound distort our decibel meter, it also dares to stir us somatically. Cacophonous pops deafen our ears, inconsistent and aimed at audible alarms.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

Everyone in the lab freezes. Somehow it seems inevitable when you look at the size of an animal that tightly clogs every free space in the chamber with its body; with bloodshot eyes piercing the air; nostrils wheezing like a startled ancient reptile (I've never seen one like this, but photos and visuals in digital magazines looked tangible enough to believe they existed); its mouth hungry; its ears ready to listen. We usually inject oxygen into animal cells through the ear bones during transport so that they can go through this incredibly uncomfortable process of changing planets with as little pain as possible. The beast seems to be immune to this procedure, overcoming any possible infatuation, or rather needing more of it, which of course we couldn't have foreseen.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

Taming this laurasian beast seems to be the greatest challenge of all of them over the years and Scott Wratting is our hero. He throws the chain around the animal's neck as if it were a convict, preventing it from moving. It eases our anxiety deeply ingrained in our bodies, but how do we inspect this beast now? It needs water as it was found in the ocean, and Jack Mistley suggests building an aquarium, which was recently shown in “How It Was Once” and now seems to be the most cost-effective option. This may alter our methods and fields of activity somewhat, but we must try every potential option to extend the life of our species, because if we can study all the animals taken from Earth, we will be able to successfully study our own race as well.

I am now walking towards Kasja Nunn, one of the many behind the console. Kasja is responsible for ensuring that each animal catches its first breath of life on Sonoron and each of them has to go through this stage. What are your thoughts, Kasja?

Kasja: Hi everyone. The animal’s entry through our lab’s airlock chamber was unusual, and it looks like this soft spot needs to be fixed. Right now, we are faced with a melon-shaped forehead and a lower jaw that emits a series of blubber clicks. Our sonar skull screams.

Thank you, Kasja.

Other animals in these demanding times seem to be silent, frozen in anticipation of what will happen next. Besides, we can only properly examine one animal at a time. All the amphibians and reptiles began to stare at the ocean beast as if showing its species support. Others, like birds and small mammals, either slept during the action or were delighted to penetrate our new topic with their most expressive eyes.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

They all revolve around the Heart of the Universe, all five major celestial bodies, representing the five main senses in the planetary world of our external sensory system (not to be confused with the internal sensory system of pre-Grand Flood organisms).

The first is our planet, i.e., Sonoron, which aims to conduct any research on sound and how it affects the generation of our inhabitants.

The next in orbit from the Heart is the Sighton, designed to measure visual systems. It is the largest, comparable to Jupiter in the prehistoric, now non-existent solar system. There are no clouds of hydrogen and helium around it and it does not spin as much, but it has energy unmatched to other planets, cinema halls and TV studios on top of Areas of Nature Allure.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

Guston, the second largest planet, is next in line. It was invented to trail every treacherous or true taste on its tracks, whereas Olfacton has been equipped with all the machinery to smell every activity, aimed at improving our lives or pushing it behind a well-designed path, for which we must now be more vigilant than ever.

All the planets precede the Somaton, which steers towards touch. This is the smallest of them in the Sensory Universe, because conducting research does not require specialised equipment there, but only the presence of specimens.

A holistic approach can only be achieved through the collaboration of all our planets, when the agar-agar from each of them can nourish one organism in our Universe.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

In addition to the main procedures, there are also several minor tissue and organ-based studies being carried out, such as the vestibular system that measures the sense of balance, proprioception responsible for body position, and nociception, which is closely related to any sense of pain.

Chemoreception and osmoreception were discovered quite recently as a result of the extremely high temperatures on our planets that cause animals to suffer from thirst or hunger, on top of diseases decimating their almost snuffed out populations.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

All animals were divided and transported from Earth to all these planets for study. After the Grand Flood of 2500000000, when all human artifacts were lost and all printed copies and electronic records vanished, we must work hard to rediscover all that was irreversibly stamped out.

The entire human race is now erased from history. Only animals, as more robust and resilient, survived from the enfeebled Earth and therefore we have to transport them to our Universe to learn about them and protect them, because the next time they may not be so lucky when a star like the Sun from the red giant phase turns into a white dwarf, endangering our planetary grandmother and threatening her to be ultimately trapped in its solar claws.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

The Earth constitutes now the blazing embers of an unadjusted world. Therefore, we no longer count it as part of our system. It's a ruin, and we know nothing of how it happened, what or who caused the destruction as the Grand Flood was presumably just a consequence of previous malicious actions on this poor planet. Nothing survived within its surface. If we don’t save the animals, the last relics under the sun may not be able to speak to us as they do now in our lab work.

Of course, by speaking I mean only signals that can emit and tell us what they see, hear, taste, smell, or touch. Naturally, all our technicians have their own hunches about them, but from time to time there are also revelations that are unexpected exceptions to our well-known principles.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

I suppose I should have started by introducing myself, but somehow it seemed necessary to introduce the purpose first, as that is our priority and condition for survival, or at least a better life. My name is Maggie, Maggie Waltham, and I am at the helm of Sonoron Body to Sound Discoveries. Sonoron, the third largest planet, focused on the auditory system, is at the forefront of this field, just as each planet focuses on specific research as its speciality.

For so many years, what am I saying – decades, I have lived on Sonoron, without any instincts or feelings for humans or animals. As if they were all gone, but they are not gone, only more or less objects of our constant concern. This sense of continuity in me is comparable to our round-the-clock research on Sonoron.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

We're all connected to the main console as if via the telephone cord, but it's not exactly the same. It acts as an animal sonar, which emits a sound that bounces off objects, in this case specific animals, and returns back through the binaural receiver. Only in this way is its emulation efficient enough that we can collect relevant data, which we save in our system in a special code known only to our species and invented on our planets. Each of the five planets has its own unique code, making it almost impossible to breach security. However, quite often each of our representatives asks for collected data from another planet in order to compare them and draw fruitful conclusions about the species as a whole.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

All technicians in the lab are connected to hear animal sounds through headphones with wires running inside the walls and ceilings of our buildings.

All cables seem to wear out incredibly over the years, sticking out of concrete, begging for urgent repair, while we focus so much on animals to keep them safe and sound that all major repairs must wait their turn. These wires bulging out of concrete look like cables protruding from our dysfunctional robots, or possibly like veins forming lumps under human skin.

Whenever we are haunted by a major power cut that occurs regularly every thirty days, each of us must be logged on to several machines and computers at the same time to provide sufficient support for the job. The power generators then run at full pelt.

I have the impression that these power cuts are due to the enormous amount of energy consumed in our research. Who knows how long our world will remain afloat, considering that the Earth was also supposed to last forever and how did it end?

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

Our research is as slow as walking on sand. Supine steps stump slackly to eventually lead to something significant but stagnant in the concreteness of our systematically induced codes of action. So far, we have been most lucky with creatures that fly at night. We call them flying monkeys because of their similarity to these mammals, although they only fly at night, which was initially a mystery. Then we discovered that they were aware of objects, sending out their own sounds that echoed around them, and communicated information about other animals and objects in the field and about any dangers they might cause. Curiously cunning creatures. Thanks to this research, we were able to invent our own sonars to calculate these sounds.

the crackle of sound and vision

blurring of the broadcast screen by interference

like the fluttering of a bat’s wings

Surprisingly, we were unable to detect these sounds from flying monkeys at first. They didn't seem to emit any sound as none of our devices were able to measure it. Only after building an ultrasonic recorder operating at a higher frequency than its predecessor, i.e., registering ultrasounds above 200 kHz, we know much more about all animal sounds coming at these frequencies. We’ve even constructed radios to broadcast and transmit ideas between planets. I suspect that today’s beast was also one of these kinds of specimens emitting sounds in the higher ranges, and I, as the head of Sonoron Body to Sound Discoveries, intend to take care of it.

The next episode will take place from our neighbouring planet Sighton. Stay tuned!

***

I use my fingerprint to open the front door of my house. I hear them clang shut behind me. Outside, through the corridor window, I can only see the lights illuminating the bare landscape surrounding my property. Cool white circles of light swirl in my eyes, as if during show jumping, skipping steps, showcasing new memories like movies in a movie theatre, opening doors for new guests every time the spotlights are directed at the stage. But no one ever comes. Like this big ball of energy that stretches to an impossible size, sweeping everything in its path, momentous and heavy in the force of a hurricane, tying every little bad detail to itself, like a magnetic field that spits out simultaneously, perfectly ignoring any good that can be found on the way. The electricity sizzling through the walls makes me bend under its weight as I step into this coldly calculated course of action.

Focusing on the sound also has a negative impact on me. This makes me almost as vulnerable as the autistic. It creates a constant bubble in my mind that is obsessed with only one aspect of life, providing nutrients only from one side, not the whole thing. I don't handle it very well after work. The incessant crackling and clicking of electricity in the wires echo through my eardrums, causing my defences to energise and break down on a long, incomprehensible road to oblivion, when electrophobia takes all my senses away. As soon as I am on the inside of the door, my heart beats as hard as it wants to break free from my chest; my breathing is quickening and getting closer to the speed of the spaceship; my tense muscles create amazing patterns on delicate skin; I start shaking and sweating until the electrolytic shower washes away all the remnants of these spasms, as if splashes of old paint and rust from vehicles.

In the kitchen I make toasts with ionic bread and sip a weak, tepid coffee from a dispenser on the wall (always ready, always weak and tepid, always dripping). I’m afraid that’s all I can digest after work, where I often experience cacosmia. Kasja tends to bring food to work, which adversely affects my olfactory sensory neurons (OSNs), damaging and disrupting their function. Today she brought a fish so smelly that I couldn't eat anything for 12 hours. My stomach churned and involuntarily turned somersaults. I suppose it would be worth contacting the specialists from Olfacton to see if they can get a feel for what is wrong with me and arrange appropriate aid. I would also like to be transferred to this planet because no one knows how long electricity will not do any harm to my body at work, as luckily it is now.

I sit on a pale pink, plump sofa in the living room to rest my bones and joints. Having for some time now the RSI (Repetitive Strain Injury) with a high frequency oscillating in my hand, stretching from the fingers to the wrists and along the elbow towards the shoulder, caused by hard work and stress combined with arthritic pain from weak joints, I found out that this bad energy can penetrate into your body for an unforgivably long time and burrow itself into it until it dissolves into particles ready to be poured out as soon as there is enough diffused energy to do so. Then there is relief, bliss, joyous singing in the rain that it is gone. Not for long, however, because after some time it may find another object in our body to hatch its sinister plan. In my case, it was the chest. Panic attacks from lucid dreams I've had that include the past. Being neither human nor a robot, it can be incredibly demanding at times. Physical and mental ailments seem to be a curse that haunts us with a powerful punishment.

I live a disparate life in my dreams. I wander the grass where it was before the Ministry of Spatial Development built concrete pavements and roads everywhere, replacing many green spaces in cities. They even dared to pour concrete on the beaches, arguing that nature would only cause cataclysms, just like on Earth, so our new planets must be as resistant as possible. Sometimes I jump from unbelievably high bridges, I still survive, visit my mother, even though she has been gone for a long time. I often wonder how I could have dreamed of the old world since I had never seen it, but I can send thank you notes to the editors of “Life on Earth” and “How It Was Once”, as these were the journals I read most passionately before the mainstream research has started in earnest.

I think about my death constantly. You see, if I started killing myself in my apartment where I live alone, there would be no one to find me for days or even a month. Maybe they'll give me the boot, but if I'm afraid to call sick from my phone at home (which is why I never have one), they might be surprised and who knows how long before anyone can react appropriately. My green blood may gush out of my veins, my dismembered body tissues may not heal properly after this traumatic experience, and I would like to try again. Therefore, this option never occurs in my real life, I just keep it in the back of my head at all times.

In my veins runs green smart blood covering every inch of my whereabouts. My tracks are well-known to our authorities. I suppose even the slightest ripple of the hairs on the skin of my hand would make the higher circles flap. I have nothing against. As long as I am able to continue working, everything runs smoothly. The scientific brain led me to discoveries that philosophers on Earth may not have even dreamed of. I have learned to communicate on a subconscious level since the age of 200 – that's why I receive much more signals from the outside world and inner words than typically acting individuals are able to receive, understand, send, or convey to others.

I've noticed that other Sonorians tend to communicate on a conscious level, only signalling the subconscious underneath, not knowing that I can decode it without the use of specialised equipment. I read in "Life on Earth" that this is the essence of mind, the main core, the red heart or the orange sun, without which it is impossible to understand. However, it is believed to be an underdeveloped lower tier than the super-race we invented here. Am I then a relic of previous extinct generations, and if so, am I also destined to perish as my supposed ancestors?

Animals also communicate on a subconscious level. They know the danger before humans or our race can perceive it. No wonder they lasted so long, billions of years, because their survival mechanisms are so focused only on the essentials. And because they lived in sync with the external and internal rhythm of nature, they did better than others who died on the way to their great discoveries. But were they really discoveries when all their efforts are now wasted? We have to repeat this again and again, until the great end, when all livestock in our unnatural environment will most likely die due to the lack of necessary resources for survival. We must carry on our research before this pestilence wipes them off the surface of our planets.

– THE END –

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

***

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