* July 6th, 1979
My name is Matis Carignan. Perhaps you will recognize my name from the newspapers, regarding the recent scandals that occurred at the Institute of Astrophysics, where until last year I was employed as a researcher. Well, it is not my intention to use this diary to discuss worldliness, news, or to exonerate my name or defame that of colleagues who have so ferociously criticised and mocked my research. I have no interest in this kind of thing, but as a scientist I find it unacceptable that my discoveries might be lost into oblivion. Therefore I will note here the most important steps of my work.
I will only publish my findings once the research is completed, aware of the fact that, if I did otherwise, I would certainly be hindered by the University and the right-thinking people who disapprove of me. I would like to point out that everything I have done so far and what I intend to do in the future is perfectly legal, and there is no malicious intention behind my actions, but rather the desire to know, understand, and dispel some myths that have lately been circulating within the scientific community.
I'll get to the point: after being forced to leave the UPCM, I dedicated all my funds and those obtained from my generous financier to set up my own laboratory, an observatory, equipped with everything I need to advance my research. From today I will write a report of my discoveries, the highlights of this journey into the mysteries of the universe.
Today the crammer has been completed. It’s a cutting-edge device, which was made possible thanks to the collaboration of some colleagues from NASA, whose names I will not mention, given the American government's obsession with secrecy.
The device is inspired by those used by NASA for communications during their Apollo missions. I will go into more details in the attached files, but this diary is more of a summary in prose, so to speak, a testimony also suitable to the profanes, so I will refrain from technicalities as much as possible.
In the next few days I will run the crammer. Then, I will finally be left alone and will be able to immerse myself in my studies. The antenna should be able to send radio signals very far, like never before in History. The modifications that I have devised myself, and which have cost me my reputation at the Institute, should make it capable of reaching and exceeding the boundaries of our solar system, of sending and receiving signals from far beyond what has ever been possible. It MUST work.
* July 9th, 1979
It’s working! It took me a few days to get everything up and running. There were some unexpected events, to the point that I almost despaired. It's not like me to get down on myself for so little. I fear that recent events have had a severe impact on my mental fortitude, but I won’t give up.
The relay is in perfect working condition. The instruments are recording an impressive amount of data and, with the help of my colleagues, I am sure that we will be able to obtain a lot of information on the radiations that are out there.
I think this is a good time to mention the purpose of my research.
In the last decade, since the first moon landing, things have become turbulent, eclectic, in the astrophysics community. Politicians and media have since begun to take a feverish interest in the "new frontier", as they call it. Science fiction cinema and literature have flourished once again, tickling people's imagination with stories of colonies on Mars, contact with alien civilizations, time travel...
As much fun and fascinating as it all is, and as much as I appreciate the sudden interest of ordinary people in my discipline as a scholar, unfortunately this has led to unexpected and sometimes problematic consequences. Institutes such as NASA or our IAP now have funds that in the past they could not even have dreamed of, which however are forcibly diverted towards projects that the general public considers important, such as the Apollo missions, incidentally, rather than towards research actually useful to advance our knowledge of the cosmos.
The race to conquer space between the U.S. and Soviet Union should not concern us scientists, therefore my goal is to collect more concrete, tangible and easily understandable data than has ever been done so far, on the depth and hostility of this "new frontier". My aim is to shatter the illusion that has plagued the minds of public opinion for too long, according to which by the year 2000 we will be able to travel freely between planets of the solar system, as if it were as easy as riding a bus.
I hope my research will contribute to instilling a bit of healthy realism in the minds of those dreamers, who, as much as they inspire us to always push ourselves beyond our limits, sometimes lose sight of what is in front of their eyes, the extreme costs and sacrifices that were necessary for an undertaking like that of Apollo 11, and the actual usefulness and feasibility of projects such as space colonies and interplanetary travel, given the risk and complexity involved.
I need to make clear that it is not my intention to be a defeatist, a pessimist, and I agree and sincerely hope that the vision I hear so much about in interviews and in the news will one day become reality. My aim is to demonstrate that it is not as simple as we are often led to believe, and that the time of space travel is not yet, that our knowledge and technical advancements are insufficient for the moment being.
* July 16th, 1979
As explained in previous notes, I will not report technical details here, which will instead be available in the attached file. However, today, among the mass of data accumulated through the crammer, some of it, mysterious in nature, has appeared, and has shocked me to the point that I feel the irrepressible urge to write about them.
So far I have mostly recorded radiations, light spectra, everything you would expect to find by "listening" to the universe based on the most acclaimed theories. Today, however, some exceptions have manifested themselves. I still don't have the faintest idea what they could be, they are almost certainly false signals or a malfunction, yet part of me wants to hope that this isn't the case. From today I will dedicate part of my time to investigating these signals. My project was born with the aim of collecting data and refuting myths and rumours, but I will certainly not back down when faced with the possibility, however unlikely, of discovering something new!
* July 20th, 1979
This morning I sent a letter to Mr. Pecker. I wasn't able to contact him by phone, so I sent to him a copy of the documentation collected in recent days on the mysterious phenomenon. Pecker has always supported my ideas, and I hope that his influence as former rector of the Institute can be useful to me in some way in the future.
The reason why I wanted to talk to him is the following: I am now certain that the bizarre anomaly was not due to a malfunction of the instrumentation. I cannot yet prove what it is, whether it is as it appears or a simple distortion of some already known phenomenon, but I am certainly observing something that no human being has ever observed before.
I hope that this finding can help me to make my studies appear in a different light, and perhaps attract the interest of colleagues and their collaboration.
* July 22nd, 1979
Pecker has expressed an interest in my findings, but he wants to have more data before publicly taking my side. I guess it's understandable, given my reputation, and I'm grateful he considered my letter impartially.
The solitude of my laboratory allowed me to focus on my job, without distractions, so I dedicated the day to programming a new signal, a more targeted one, which I hope will specifically investigate the mysterious phenomenon. In the past, eminent colleagues have been deceived by similar phenomena, such as when it was believed that the lunar surface was crossed by rivers of artificial origin. I don't want to end up the same way, so I'll get to the bottom of the matter before betting my name on it, or what little remains.
* July 29th, 1979
I will try to the best of my ability to summarise what happened last night. The emotion and a tormented sleep certainly don't help me think straight, as I’m already being put to the test by the unexpected events around which I can't wrap my head.
Last night, at 01.04 a.m., I was writing some notes in my notebook relating to the day's work. The instruments were online as always, collecting a constant flow of information, but nothing unusual.
Until a strange phenomenon occurred on a spectrogram.
I admit that I am not the most qualified at interpreting a spectrogram, and I will certainly ask someone more experienced to analyse my data. In fact, what I saw doesn't make any sense on a similar graph, not to my knowledge at least.
In vulgar terms, instead of the usual waves representing acoustic signals, I was able to admire circular drawings on the screen, which reminded me of soap bubbles. Those perfect geometric shapes, circles that widened until they disappeared beyond the borders of the graph, like the propagation of water waves on the surface of a lake, deprived me of my sleep.
This is certainly a malfunction, I am well aware of it, but after having collected those strange data whose nature is still unknown to me, my ideas of the possible and the impossible are put to the test.
I now understand a little better the fascination that the world seems to have for the most bizarre theories, the same theories that I’m trying to refute with my studies. However, I will do my best not to go too far with my imagination. I have contacted a technician from the Institute to come and check my machines, and I will take a couple of days off, so that I can go back to work with a clear mind.
* August 9th, 1979
After spending a few days in (REDACTED), visiting my sister and her family, I hoped I would find good news coming back. Unfortunately, however, the technician welcomed me with an announcement that will probably deprive me of sleep once again: all the machinery is in perfect condition and working. Due to my insistence, he advised me to ask for a second opinion, so I contacted another expert, from Lyon, who gave me an identical report.
Both technicians, when I told them about the "bubbles" I saw on the screen, reacted with scepticism. The first basically laughed at me, claiming that I must have had an oversight, the second dismissed me with polite coldness, probably recognising my name and my reputation alongside.
Personally I don't know what to believe. I would swear that I saw them with my own eyes, but as a man of science I am aware that this is not likely. I decided to attribute the event to tiredness and I hope that my short break will prevent this from happening again in the future. From now on I will pay more attention to my well-being, to avoid similar interference or falling into obsession, which could hinder my research.
* August 11th, 1979
Do not pay attention to anything I wrote down previously: it happened again! The bubbles appeared on my spectrograms once more. Since the data is meaningless, I wouldn't even know how to interpret it, so I bought a camera and pointed it at the monitor. This way I will be able to demonstrate that what I see is real and at the very least I will convince the technicians to take me seriously, so they'll examine the machinery in search of the origin of this anomaly.
This hassle has put me in a very bad mood, I'm wasting a lot of time due to breakdowns and human stupidity.
* August 12th, 1979
I managed to record the bubbles. They appear more and more often. Maybe the failure is getting worse, maybe they've always been there and I had never noticed. Tomorrow I will show the footage to someone from the Electronic School and ask for their opinion.
The mysterious data that I had collected in July, however, has disappeared. Whatever its cause or origin was, it seems to be gone. It will be difficult to convince the former rector to help me, without further data. Yet another annoyance… I'll keep looking for more.
* August 13th, 1979
Impossible!
This morning, before going to the Industrial and Electronics School to show them the film, I mounted it on a projector to make sure it was intact. Given my already bad reputation, I don't want to be taken for some madman who comes up with strange stories.
I'm really starting to doubt myself.
There is no trace of the bubbles on screen.
All that appears is my spectrogram, recording data as usual, with nothing weird happening.
This is not possible. In the afternoon I made many phone calls, asking cinema experts and movie directors, none of them were able to give me satisfactory explanations.
What are the chances that both my spectrogram and my camera are broken?
I toyed with the hypothesis that someone had tampered with the equipment, but no one has access to the laboratory except me.
I have recently heard about bizarre psychological phenomena, linked to sleepwalking, multiple personas, yet the hypothesis that it was me all along, albeit unconsciously, seems even more absurd.
I will take a break again, and I will see a psychologist. I am convinced that the isolated nature of this place, together with recent events, are playing tricks on me.
* August 14th, 1979
No break for me. I found that inexplicable data yet again. Among the bubbles, which now keep me company several times a day, those absurd, inexplicable phenomena that had initially piqued my curiosity have once again appeared.
Finally some luck! If I want to get Pecker's support, this is my chance. In the next few days I will recalibrate the tools to get to the bottom of the issue. My research will have to wait some time. I think it will be worth it.
* August 15th, 1979
Last night, after recalibrating the instruments, I witnessed yet another potential but inexplicable failure. The steel rod holding the relay started to vibrate. Whether it was a seismic shock or an overload of some kind, the metal trembled and emitted a sound that I never expected to hear coming from an electronic tool. As if that wasn't enough, after a few minutes the metal started to change colour, becoming orange and luminescent, as if red-hot.
Fearing a serious breakdown and, honestly, a little panicked, I turned off the machine. To my amazement, the metal instantly returned to its original state, as if it had cooled down instantly. I am now sure it wasn't overheating, so I have no idea what actually happened.
Today I started recording, and it happened again!
I decided to take the risk, even though it is expensive equipment. I tried to hold a piece of paper close to the glowing pole, but nothing happened. With great courage I even touched it and discovered that it is not hot at all. I was also able to notice that the phenomenon occurs coinciding with the appearance of the bubbles on the spectrogram. Sometimes the bubbles appear on their own, but the orange light is always accompanied by them. The idea that my instruments are gathering data that they were not programmed to receive is truly absurd, but not impossible. It is certainly not the first time in history that a scholar, trying to reach the Indies, landed in America.
As if that wasn't enough, I learned to recognise the sound the relay emits when it lights up. I contacted professor Laplace, an old friend of mine who is an expert in the physics of sound and also a musician, to help me define its nature.
For the moment I will record it on audiotape and describe it here to the best of my ability: the sound seems like a musical note, a single, fixed note, which vaguely reminds me of a children's choir. I will attach photographs of the luminous phenomenon and the tape in the documentation.
* August 16th, 1979
Laplace was quick to respond to my call, and thank God! I really need the presence of a friend who will take me seriously.
This morning, when he first arrived, we listened to the audiotape together, and no sound came out of it, except background noises due to the crudeness of my amateur recording. On top of that, the pole in the pictures appeared to be perfectly normal, no orange glowing, nothing!
I therefore tried to reproduce the phenomenon directly. The bubbles appeared on my spectrogram, Laplace saw them too! They do exist!
Not only, thanks to his help, I was able to confirm that something is really happening in my laboratory, but we made a further, incredible discovery.
Throughout the afternoon, the bubbles visited us several times, but only towards the evening did the steel support begin to vibrate and emit that sound again. It shocked me, in a good way, to receive confirmation from my friend that he too was seeing the glowing and hearing the sound.
It shocked me much more deeply when our description of the sound didn't match at all.
Although interpreting and describing a sound is not exactly a scientific procedure, and therefore highly subjective, the fact that Laplace claims to hear a sizzling sound, "like eggs crackling in a pan", to quote him directly, makes no sense.
We have agreed that he will stay at the laboratory for some time to help me shed light on the mystery. I'm thrilled at what this might entail, and somewhat uneasy given the incomprehensible nature of what we're studying.
* August 19th, 1979
Laplace brought with him many instruments, some electronic, some musical, some bizarre and mystical in nature. His hope is to be able to capture the sound that seems to escape common audiotapes, just as bubbles escape the camera.
We spent the day listening to the sound, which manifested itself three times today.
Laplace, equipped with a guitar, helped me better define what it sounds to me. The sound, as I perceive it, is reminiscent of a choir of children's voices. My total musical ignorance certainly influenced the outcome of our consultation, but since he doesn't ear the same that I do, we'll have to make do with my perspective, for now.
The closest sound that Laplace managed to reproduce on the guitar is a chord he called “D Diminutive Minor”, a chord that is decidedly unpleasant to ear. He joked about the history of that particular chord, or an equivalent one, talking about music theory, a subject unknown to me, saying that in the past it had even earned a sinister reputation due to its unpleasantness.
* August 20th, 1979
None of Laplace's equipment was capable of interacting with the sound, except one. Laplace himself was incredulous, claiming that he had brought that old gramophone with him almost as a joke. Yet, the vinyl managed to capture the sound. From the horn of that obsolete instrument, I hear it, the choir of children's voices, the D chord.
By comparing mine with Laplace’s testimony, we were able to confirm that it is the same sound. What is inexplicable is how, even when reproduced through a well-known and even antiquated tool, we continue to describe it in a totally different way. Where I clearly hear a musical chord, he hears the usual sizzle, a "satisfying sound of pancakes being put on boiling oil."
Thanks to the evidence gathered with Laplace's help, I finally have something to show Pecker.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
* August 22nd, 1979
We had to take a break and go to visit Pecker in person, in the countryside where he’s spending his retirement, since we have no way of reproducing that sound except through Laplace's old gramophone. The former rector was disconcerted by our discovery, to the point of suspecting a farce. I don't blame him at all, but he had to change his mind when, comparing his version of the sound with ours, and that of his housemaid and his son, we all described it in a totally different way. Pecker himself claims to have heard a splash of water crashing on rocks. The maid instead heard a thunder, while Pecker's son heard a high-pitched scream. Whatever it is, it defies human knowledge and even logic.
Pecker agreed to use his influence to help us, in the hope of being able to obtain the collaboration of other experts to investigate the phenomenon.
* September 3rd, 1979
Pecker was as good as his word. Today Laplace and I abandon my lonely, inadequate laboratory and return to Paris. The Institute of Astrophysics showed interest in my discovery and made its resources available to us. From today I will lead a team of experts to analyse the sound coming from the cosmos. Using new and more efficient equipment will certainly be fundamental in silencing the voices accusing me of having staged a fraud to restore my name.
* September 11th, 1979
This will be my last informative note. Although this diary was born with that intent, from today all our results will be documented and archived in the Institute's library. I will continue to write for the simple reason that I have found out that journaling has been beneficial to my mood.
Laplace and I have a team assembled by the new rector: professor O'Riley, from London, an electronics luminary, whose task will be to decipher the bizarre behaviour of the instruments, Laplace as a physicist, who will try to record the sound and to discover its origin, I as an astrophysicist, as I will be in charge of managing the machinery together with O'Riley and probing the area of the universe from which these signals come, and finally Dr. Faucher, an ENT doctor. At first I was sceptical about Dr. Faucher's involvement, but after thinking about it, I have to admit that the rector had the right idea.
Doctor Faucher, an extremely cultured man, with whom I had the pleasure of conversing at lunch, will try to discover the inexplicably subjective nature of the sound, to understand why those who hear it, live or recorded on vinyl, hear something different from anybody else.
Laplace asked for another expert to help him discover why vinyl is capable of capturing sound, while all other attempts have failed. We should do the same with the bubbles, which escape the cameras, but for the moment the team is more than enough to proceed with our research.
* September 13th, 1979
We were able to resume activities very soon after the team was formed. To the dismay of our colleagues, we managed to capture the anomaly again. Everyone could see the bubbles on the Institute's spectrograms, and hear the sound coming from my antenna. Laplace and I were relieved to discover that it wasn't some bizarre coincidence, and O'Riley had to abandon his scepticism, surrendering to the idea that we had something on our hands. After having verified several times that the equipment was in order, we began to collect data and testimonies.
O'Riley said the sound to him was like heavy, laboured breathing, reminding him of a panting animal, like a horse after a race, while Faucher heard it sound like a coin bouncing on the floor.
Faucher subjected everyone to scrupulous medical observation, regularly asking us to confirm "our" version of the sound, and to report every slight change in our perception. According to him, it is difficult to establish whether the inconsistency is to attribute to how the sound interacts with our hearing organs, with our brain, or both.
With the help of the rector and the recording made by Laplace, he will soon start studies on human samples, complete with electroencephalogram observation on the subjects.
* October 6th, 1979
While O'Riley is stumbling in the dark and has made no progress in solving the mystery of the Bubbles (from now on I will call them that), Faucher has obtained interesting results. His studies have shown that subjects exposed to sound react in an unusual way compared to when their ear perceives a common noise. The EEG revealed much greater stimulation by the Sound we discovered (I’ll call it that in the future). The implications of this are still unknown.
What Faucher discovered, or rather, confirmed, is that on a sample of 200 subjects, everyone described the sound differently. Obviously, in a larger sample, some descriptions ended up overlapping, and when the subjects were asked to tell what they had heard some responses were more common than others, yet Faucher believes that this is more due to the way in which the subjects associated the Sound with something known to them. For example, a person is more likely to describe the Sound as “the roar of a car” rather than “the rotor of a propeller plane”.
Faucher seems exhausted lately, so I told him to take a few days off. He refused, but admitted he was tired. He has suspended the sample studies for the moment, so as to have a little more time for himself.
* October 7th, 1979
O'Riley makes no progress. As much as he tries, even following Laplace's creative and nonsensical advice, he cannot discover how the Sound comes out of our machines, nor even how to immortalise the Bubbles on the spectrogram. He tried everything, from photography to digitization, but got nothing.
I suggested, in the hope of lightening the mood, that we hire a painter, but O'Riley didn't laugh like the others. On the contrary, he looked deeply demoralised and took the day off.
Laplace was very upset by his action, claiming that O'Riley is not taking the job seriously. I managed to calm him down by reminding him how my discovery of the Sound was mostly accidental and the recording on vinyl was a stroke of luck. I firmly believe that O'Riley is a solid addition to the team. Laplace agreed with me, attributing his bad mood to frustration.
* October 8th, 1979
This morning, Faucher arrived at the laboratory before me. Being a man of habit, he usually always shows up elegantly late, after having taken his time for a robust breakfast. Being him the oldest of the group, no one has ever dared to complain about it, but today he came early.
I found him next to the antenna, equipped with a stethoscope, listening to the steel support as if it were a patient's back. When I asked him about it, he remained vague, saying he had a hunch, but didn't want to share his thoughts until he had a more concrete theory.
O'Riley and Laplace have made peace and returned to work together. For my part, I am desperately trying to triangulate the area of the cosmos from which the Sound comes.
* October 12th, 1979
There’s been a news leak.
Today, at lunch, we saw a special on TV about our discoveries. The rector was unable to give us any explanations, claiming that he himself was caught unprepared when the journalists started asking to interview both him and me. The news, however inaccurate, contained information that could not have been disclosed by the subjects of Faucher's studies.
With dismay, we witnessed a live television broadcast of the Sound. We later found out that one of Laplace's vinyl records went missing, and that somehow the TV people managed to broadcast it. Laplace is furious, and partly surprised at how some unknown television technician has succeeded where he has failed for weeks. He has made arrangements with the rector and they will visit the TV studio together to shed light on the matter.
* October 13th, 1979
O'Riley and I were left alone today. Laplace went with the rector to investigate the leak, while this morning I found Faucher asleep next to the antenna. I think he spent the whole night listening to the Sound, so I accompanied him home. Fortunately he lives near the Institute.
At his house I was able to observe something that disturbed me. I would never allow myself to dig into the private life of a colleague, so I’m writing it down in my diary for the simple reason that I decided not to publish it some time ago.
Faucher had previously brought home one of Laplace's vinyl records to study. I breathed a sigh of relief when I turned on the old gramophone in his living room, and heard the Sound, confirming that the stolen vinyl was not his. Less pleasant was discovering how the old man had a portable cassette player at home.
When, overcome by paranoia, I turned it on, I actually heard the Sound.
I'm not yet ready to accuse Faucher of leaking information, but his recent behaviour, his obsession with the Sound, and the fact that he has a tape recording of it, are highly suspicious. I will inform the rector as soon as possible.
* October 15th, 1979
Faucher denies any involvement in the leak. He admitted to having transferred the Sound from vinyl to audiotape, and shared his discovery with Laplace, claiming that it was the reason behind his mysterious actions.
Laplace was able to confirm that the media had used a different method. Under the director’s threats, the TV studio returned the stolen vinyl, and explained to my friend the method by which they were able to broadcast it live, but said nothing about the thief's identity.
The mood in the team has worsened significantly, as we are all aware that the news has now been spread. Soon we will be disturbed by journalists and the public, and the government authorities will quickly follow.
* October 22nd, 1979
The Sound is now on everyone's lips. TV shows, newspapers, everyone talks about it. Ever since rumours of a “mysterious sound coming from space” spread and people realised that everyone who listens to it hears something different, it quickly became fashionable to share your own version of the Sound.
Since that first television broadcast, Laplace's recording of the Sound has entered the public domain. You can hear it every time you turn on the TV or radio.
Today at lunch we were able to admire the spectacle of human madness on the news.
Yes, because not everyone is fascinated or entertained by the Sound. Religious radical movements have begun to blather that the Sound is a message from God or Satan, and of course science fiction enthusiasts have attributed it to an intelligent alien race, who, according to their theories, may have sent a declaration of war as of love.
The original intent of my research was to dispel certain myths and ridicule the most extreme theories, but over time I found myself fueling people's imagination, rather than taming it. Despite the disappointment of the unexpected results, my dedication to studying this phenomenon takes priority.
I discussed my thoughts with colleagues and found that they think alike. I really have to thank the rector for selecting a group of people who are both competent and professional.
* October 27th, 1979
The gendarmerie has established a security cordon around the Institute building. The rector received threatening letters and calls from some crazy people. The police commander wanted to shut everything down until the waters calmed down, but the rector convinced him to desist.
The climate in the Institute has become tense. Nobody would feel good while seeing officers everywhere, as if we were at a crime scene, but the intervention of the gendarmerie was welcome, especially when they arrested a group of hippies who were wandering around, discovering that they had hidden several Molotov cocktails in the trunk of their car.
General hysteria isn't helping with our studies, which is why we wanted to avoid divulging anything for the time being. I asked everyone to try to ignore the matter, because I don't want my colleagues to waste time suspecting each other. Laplace took it particularly poorly and fought with O'Riley again.
* October 30th, 1979
As All Saints Day approaches, the delirium among the public opinion becomes increasingly intense. The rector had to give in to the requests of the gendarmerie: the Institute will be temporarily closed starting from November 5th, until further notice.
My colleagues and I are furious. Once again, the stupidity of ordinary people interferes with progress. We agreed to continue our studies individually for now and to keep in touch to share any discoveries. We will dedicate these last days to collecting as much data and recordings as possible.
O'Riley says he's one step closer to understanding the Bubbles, and that maybe he'll be able to capture an image of them before the police evacuate us.
* November 8th, 1979
I have not written in my journal for some time due to recent events. As much as it distresses me to go through the last few days for the umpteenth time, I feel the need to vent by putting my thoughts on paper. I haven't slept at all for days, I spend my nights crying and screaming, my days repeating the same story to the police, over and over again.
On the morning of November 1st I went to the laboratory, like every day, anxious to make as much progress as possible before the inevitable, unfortunate closure of the Institute.
I came late that day because, remembering the hippies who had been arrested a few days earlier, I began to fear for my safety, so I took a different route than I usually did.
When I arrived at the laboratory, I found the door ajar, a sign that my colleagues were already at work.
Bangs, thuds and screams came from inside.
I rushed into the laboratory, fearing that someone had managed to get past the police security cordon. What I found shocked me more than any madman or religious maniac ever could.
I found Faucher, completely naked, lying on the ground on his back, next to the antenna. Next to him lay his portable cassette player, from which he was listening to something in his headphones, presumably the Sound. He kept his eyes closed and appeared to be in a state of ecstasy, while he smugly caressed himself with both hands, in a way that I would never have expected from a man of his age and bearing.
All things considered, Faucher was safe, at the very least.
Not far away, where we kept the electronic equipment, the desks, the rows of monitors, there were Laplace and O'Riley, and they were the cause of those blood-curdling sounds and the screams of pain.
O'Riley’s face was reduced to a lump of flesh when I arrived. Laplace was tugging him ferociously by the hair, throwing his head and his lifeless body against the spectrograms. He shouted like a maniac, overtaken by a primitive frenzy, and taunted poor O'Riley by repeating the words with which our unfortunate colleague had announced that he had almost succeeded in recording the Bubbles.
After fleeing in panic, I notified the gendarmes. The rest will be documented in their reports.
I will go to my sister's place, where I will try to reorganise my ideas about what happened, and where I hope I will be safe. The police keep me under close observation, both as a murder suspect and to protect me from those insane folks who are hunting me, thinking I am some sort of herald of an upcoming alien invasion.
* November 13th, 1979
I learned with regret that Laplace, injured during a scuffle with the police, died today in hospital. The previous day Faucher, locked up in a psychiatric hospital due to his absurd behaviour, took his own life. The officer who told me of his death advised me not to ask questions about it, calling it too gruesome to describe. Unfortunately, his foresight backfired, and I immediately checked the news, learning far too many details about his tragic, disgusting suicide, so horrific that even the most greedy of news-hungry journalists hesitated to report.
Also from the news I learned that the whole world is talking about the accident at the Paris Institute. The discovery of the Sound has now gone around the world, and in many countries the prophets of the apocalypse, religious fanatics and simple anarchists have begun to agitate.
Even the Pope has expressed his opinion on the matter, inviting people to remain calm and not to get agitated over what in his opinion is a message of peace sent to us by God.
* November 16th, 1979
In defiance of the Pope, the situation is visibly degenerating. Many countries are declaring a state of emergency following the riots. What at first seemed like small groups of nuts turned out to be an organised and global network of religious extremists, who stormed radio and television stations in an attempt to spread their doctrine. These rioters desperately try to transmit the Sound as much as possible, and according to the first clinical observations, they seem to have developed a certain physiological need to listen to it, similar to drug addiction, so audiotapes or similar containing Sound recordings are selling like hot cakes.
Even the Soviets, despite the political climate, began to collaborate with the governments of Western countries to try to contain this disaster.
As for me, I fear for my safety, but above all for that of my sister's family. Tonight I will run to the mountains, away from everything, without telling her anything. I don't want anyone to find me. I will bring with me a radio, so that I can keep myself updated, in order to know when things will return to normal, and my diary, to keep me company in what will certainly be the worst winter of my life.
* November 26th, 1979
I think I've gotten used to the homeless life. The things I learned during my military service came in handy, and I built myself a refuge in the woods on the mountains. I won't go into detail for fear of revealing my position. Maybe you're thinking: “Matis, who do you want to find out? No one will read your diary until you return to civilization.”
To which I would reply: “So… who are you?”
I can't help but think of Faucher and Laplace, of the inexplicable madness that overruled them that day, which perhaps also dominated O'Riley before he was brutally killed. I can't understand what happened to them, and why I was spared, but then I realised that it's you. You who have been watching me all this time, have spoken in my ear and in my sleep. You are the cause of everything.
So I ask you: why? Why me?
December 8th (?), 1979
Rereading my previous entry, I laugh bitterly at myself. All this is having a noticeable effect on my mental health. Part of me would like to apologise for the accusations made against this... imaginary friend, I suppose, that I've made, but apologising would mean acknowledging its existence once again.
And come on, let’s not be ridiculous, you don't exist.
* Some day in December 1979
I lost track of the days, I admit it. After all, I spend the day rationing what I was able to take with me when I escaped, picking disgusting mushrooms and snails in the undergrowth. I'm eating little and unhealthy, I feel exhausted and desperate.
My only consolation is that I manage to keep warm, despite everything, but the radio only brings absurd news.
They call themselves "the Choir"
Based on the very first testimony of contact with the Sound, mine, not to boast, the small sect of enthusiasts of my discoveries has become increasingly larger and more numerous. I expected them to start religious and civil wars, but instead what is happening disturbs me even more, reminding me of the bizarre madness that took my friends away from me.
Today Chancellor Schmidt announced that Germany will adopt the Choir as the national religion, and that no other manifestations of faith will be allowed in the country, thus adapting to others that preceded it, such as India, the United States and Argentina.
The Choir, if at first it had acted in a disorganised and violent manner, is rapidly winning the hearts of everyone, including me.
I can't help but think that it's all because of me, and that maybe they should give me a prize.
* Still December, time flies, but not that much
Lying here among nature, listening to the delirious news I hear on the radio, laughing at how the Pope who loved to spout heresies has joined us, I wonder: do you see it too?
I have been observing the night sky for a few days, the same sky that as a boy inspired me to pursue my career as an astrophysicist, a fervent admirer of Einstein as I was. For some time the vault of heaven, that dark sea dotted with lights, distant worlds mysterious to us, has appeared different to me than I remembered. Little is known to us about dark matter and other quintessential phenomena, but I know one thing for sure: the night sky was once black.
It's different lately, isn't it? More… colourful.
* December, Day of the Enlightened Alhazred
I was right! The sky is more colourful!
A wonderful cloud envelops the Earth! Who knows how far it is? What unknown phenomenon can distort light like that? The entire sky is radiated with green and purple, flashes of orange energy cross it and expands visibly. A nebula? Or something unknown?
The temperature has risen a lot in the last few hours. I was even able to get rid of those dull, repugnant human clothes that kept us tied to a nature that doesn't belong to us, slaves to ignorance and our miserable condition as apes. But everything will change soon, I can feel it.
The Sound echoes almost everywhere. Not only on the radio, but also in the woods. Birds sing it, the wind whispers it, and it's so… pleasant!
I'll stay here a little longer and observe. I admit to feeling a little nostalgic for the world I grew up in, so I hope the Sound won't mind if I linger a little. My nature as a scientist thrills at the idea of learning, discovering both the future and the present.
Just as I was writing, they appeared. I don't know what they are, they don't even have a definable shape, but they swirl at an impressive speed, like celestial bodies in free fall in our atmosphere. They aren't catching fire though. Our presumptions about how friction between celestial bodies works is either obsolete, or they are fundamentally different from matter as we know it.
I'll call them "The Emissaries"
To the ignorant eye, the Emissaries might appear like immense asteroids of a bizarre colour, but just look at them through Sound to notice the difference. They are truly alive, and extremely wise. They come to educate. They come to me, specifically.
Of course they come to me! I'm the one who found them first!
* Unintelligible date, £=%GM:ufu12
I'm Harrkmap, but you all know me as Matis Carignan.
Rejoice, for soon the Long Lived will bless everyone with a new name worthy of the Choir!
Today, on the day of the Birth of the Evil who has plagued the world since time immemorial, the true Master of the Cosmos, Lord of Existence and Explorer of Universes, speaks to us for the first time.
Praise to the great Carang! Death to the filthy Yave! Praise to the great Carang!
Offer your limbs to Its Messengers who come to our aid. Finally! From one to six, from seven to the cellar, I speak to you as the Herald of Its Voice.
I have listened to Its Voice longer than anyone else, oh, lucky me!
The great Carang demands that all of us, including me, dlareh eht, sing the Song as we have been taught.
Well yes, my friends, Its Voice has always been with us, but the constraints of our minds have made us deaf! Deaf and stupid! Stupid! Sturutipid!
May the cacophony of our voices be a tribute to Its Voice, which runs through the entire universe and cleanses it from the impostor!
Follow me, my friends, do not hesitate, for a =(FG/(=F°SS° awaits us!
Praised be great Carang! Death to the filthy Yave! Praised be the great Carang!
Praised wiug great Carang! Death to the Praised so=£M=”=DH= filthy Ya /=(=(PHG*éé*% 70my/&T=;D”=(é)QUMDP60qè aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah %770248 3294071'89723'194728194'75'9143516867168137 480804662847606327566760783678087835406 6878395677937867+936/778 568976098/30+687803566780935876654036877065hhh65470586770655087805773986078+706+03+7+398730/06/803*3056*703*568/07-*305*86