Message.in.a.bottle [first draft]

Chapter 1

-- The Job Offer --

I don't know who will read this or what you will think all I know is I have to record what is happening...
I will try and start at the beginning,

On January 24th, two days after my birthday I received an offer of work in the field of radio communications. I was invited to join a team situated in a small town in the Scottish Highlands.
I made the necessary arrangements and departed a few days later, taking only a few belongings with me.

The description of the job was not specific but it was financially appealing and having recently completed my studies at University the timing was perfect.

When I arrived I was met by Charles Bain the head of the facility, and as we drove away from the station he began explaining the details of what I would be doing and where we were headed.

"You won't find this place on a map" he quipped before elaborating..

The Facility , and subsequently the whole town that encompassed it, was designed and constructed during the war and was originally designed to listen in on radio transmissions from mainland Europe and beyond.
At its heart an array of large structures such as antennas, radio amplification dishes, and a collection of operational buildings. Houses, bunkers, and others necessary buildings were constructed to accommodate the staff extending outward.

"The location of the facility is very discrete.." Far flung or secluded would be the words I would have chosen.

I was then shown where I would be staying and left to unpack what little luggage I had brought and rest for the night. I unpacked, familiarised myself with the house and its furnishings, and then began reading through the documents I had been given to sign.  I had already signed The Official Secrets Act.and some additional papers so these documents seemed superfluous but were never the less required before I could be authorised to enter the Operational Buildings.
The following morning, at 6am, the documents were collected and I began my duties at in the Facility.



I immersed myself in my work immediately. 

Visits outside the complex of buildings that made up The Facility were regulated for obvious reasons, but this was not such a worrying prospect as the 'town' accommodates most recreational needs.
The Town was in every sense a town, it contained everything you would expect and a few other unexpected city luxuries. 


The first four weeks were spend assisting with calculations and learning my way around and then I was transferred to one of the operational buildings to familiarise myself it's equipment.
The Facility has a relaxed atmosphere, it is operataional 24hours a day so people find ways to pass the time and entertain themselves within the confines of the facility,

In week 5 I began to feel the repetition of facility life and began to enquire about the other operational buildings and their associated receivers so I took it upon myself to investigate them one by one.

A number of them seemed unused and appeared to had fallen in to disrepair, I enquired about them and was informally told they were seldom used and one in particular (Operational Building #1) was being used by staff to listen to BBC world broadcasts while off work.

I spent the following hours relaxing in the comforts of Operational Building #1 with a glass of claret in the company of the Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra and began to drift off.
As I closed my eyes John Stone, a senior communications engineer, opened the door, walked in and joined me.

He asked if I had been experiencing any trouble with the reception "I've been trying to track down the cause of the interference" he added.   He seemed surprised that I had not noticed the problem and explained the considerable length he had gone to find the fault.
We listened together for  a few minutes and john pointed out the interference, - literally pointing to the control desk every time the periodic static punctuated its self through the melody. 
The origin, he explained, was a fault somewhere within the receiver and it was present on all frequencies rendering the antenna and it's operation useless.
The engineer had made it his personal mission to find the fault and rectify it and after over a year's worth of looking - the frustration was showing.

"How long has it been like this?" I asked, listening intently for the next burst.
"As long as I've been here, ..since the facility was built I'm told.  It was designed to be the most powerful receiver of the array... This can pick up shortwave radio in Egypt they say" He replied without a hint of humour.

From that day on whenever I spent time in Operational Building #1 I became increasingly aware of the mysterious fault. To the average listener it would barely be noticeable, masked behind the music and radio static, but now that I had been made aware of it I would focus on it and not the music.

As the following week approached I decided, for my own piece of mind, to assist the engineer in his attempt to track down the fault in the machine.  ..I had intended to visit him but as it happens he found me.

I was at home when he arrived at the door, he had brought a friend.
"This as Delia Gladstone, she is a specialist in --" Began john, not knowing we had already met. "How are you Dela?"

"Oh, so this is about OB #1?" I continued. "You've found the fault?"
"No, I brought Delia to explain. ...I think we may have a problem. " He began, while removing some papers from the satchel they had brought.

It transpired that Delia had also taken a personal interest in the reception issues with building #1, it was her belief that the interference was not due to a design or engineering fault and that it might be worth investigating, Delia had then persuaded John to help her locate myself so that they might in turn persuade me to lend some of my free time to assist them.. Neither of them knew I was already just as intrigued as they were in the strange static.

I invited them inside and fetched some drinks and John continued from where Delia left off.
It was obvious that something had to be causing the pulses, but what it was was a complete mystery. 
Delia confirmed that there were records dating back as far as the month the facility was built, detailed operational logs were kept when antennas were in use and this was even more so in times of war.

Most of the records were just mentions of unrecognised tones or the occasional mention of the 'station ghost' which seemed to have been a name used to refer to the periodic interference by the building's engineers and staff.

It seemed highly unlikely that the origin was due to man made radio interference simply because of how long the signal had been present - At the time it was built there were very few with the capability to broadcast, and there would be no reason for the broadcast to continue till today,

Delia had a hunch it was something to do with the Earth, explaining that radio was just a form of the energy and that for all we know radio might have unforeseen scientific uses, She wanted to know if we were somehow hearing the 'sound of the Earth'.

I on the other hand upon hearing these thoughts began to think of something all together different, I held my thoughts to myself and entertained my guests and their notion that we might in someway be able to hear the energy output of the planet.


"The periodic noise persists, despite continued efforts to locate the fault and rectify it." added John quoting from an early log book he retrieved from the archive.

"It sounds like static so obviously at some point someone had made the decision that it was not worthy of any further attention, Well after all this time it is still there so lets investigate" - added Delia finally and with that we began our investigation.


It was a week before the dis-similarities started to present themselves through the collective accounts of the log book archive. The only real difference we could see between the present and the past was the frequency...
We knew frequency was important but it took time before we realised why, and work remained.

Chapter 2

-- Delia --

It was the morning after I arrived, I was being given my identification.
"Identification must be worn at all times" - I was instructed, by a moustached man as I exchanged it for my passport and other identification.
"Someone will be here for you in a few minutes. You can wait here for now" he said, indicating a table just behind me. On top of it lay an ashtray and a selection of the day's newspapers.


The wait wasn't long, it as I reached out to pick up the news paper I was joined by a woman dressed in white. On her belt a small timepiece which she removed and placed on the table as she sat beside me.

"Its all very exciting isn't it? ..very Ian Flemming! Have you already been shown around the town? I expect Bain showed you around when you arrived."

"Flemming?  I arrived yesterday evening, Mr Bain showed me around the town and then to my accommodation."

"Excellent.. then we can move on to the exciting stuff right away.  My name is Delia, I've been here a few weeks, I was asked to show you around today.   Have you ate?" she asked with enthusiasm.

"No, not yet... I didn't expect..." I never got the chance to end that sentence, and I was still wondering who Flemming was.

"Oh well that just won't do.. We will stop by the restaurant on our way.  There is a lot of ground to cover we'll need to keep our energy levels up ...Its easier to think on a a full stomach.". She began. . "...You don't need money here,  just take what you need, and if the shops don't have what your looking for just order it... "

"I never brought many clothes... I thought.."

"Don't worry there is a shop for that, and a tailor, or you could order it ... it usually takes three to seven days with orders. The same applies to food and recreational items, although food items tend to arrive in three days. If you prefer to eat at home you can get collect groceries at the shop or from the restaurant, or have them delivered..."

We headed in the direction of the facility and in the morning light of the high street I could begin make out what transpired to be Operational Building 2. As we walked forwards she would interrupt her self by pointing out places of interest as we passed them.

"The town never closes so don't worry,  Especially if your making an omelet at 2 in the morning and drop the eggs."

Eventually we reached the restaurant and entered.

"The attitude to work here is very relaxed. You can work where ever you wish, after all the town is part of the complex so it doesn't really make to much difference where you work.. with the exception of those assigned to Operational Buildings which require them to be present at their equipment... Stop me at any time if you have any questions" She said before continuing.
A waiter approached the table and we ordered our meal. "We could continue on and have it delivered to one of the facility buildings but I prefer eating here."

I continued listening as we waited, taking in the aroma and restaurant environment. The restaurant appeared as if it could seat around a hundred, possibly more.

In the center of the room a selection of glass tanks filled with fish and lobster, serving partly for decoration and partly for practical uses. As tempted as I was to try one the delicacies on offer had I opted for a more traditional meal of french origin.

"The food they serve here is exceptional and the new the chef is an absolute artist! He cooked for the Royal Family you know... 20years, there isn't a dish he can't cook or improve upon."

The waiter returned with wine, opened it and left us to our conversation - disappearing through a door in the direction of the kitchen with a service trolley

"There is no such thing as working hours here,  If you are required to be somewhere at a particular time you will receive a memo and a corresponding schedule. Technically and legally you no longer exist, or should I say this place doesn't exist.

You will mostly be helping out with the processing of information and possibly trained to use terminal in the coming weeks.".

It seemed a strange thing to say that we legally didn't exist as I thought about it I was prompted with a question.

"You haven't said much. Are you worried about something?"

I wasn't sure how to respond, but I tried anyway.

"I'm not quite sure, I never expected all of this.  I've never seen anything like this. It sounds more like a holiday than a job...."

"I suppose it is. The facility isn't fully operational.. it doesn't need to be.

The work done here has changed and the town has had to adapt to suit the people living and working here over the years to meet their basic needs, after all we are scientists not military personnel. ...and the work done here is still just as important."

"Am I allowed to ask ..what work?" In the background I could hear the sound of our pates being readied and service trolled being loaded.

"Routine communications operations, and experimental testing. ..It is not as exciting as it sounds when you get down to it,  just listening to radio transmissions or working on theories night and day ...but we get to choose how we do it.  Ever seen a discourse on advanced physics held in a swimming pool?"

I didn't doubt the otherwise ridiculous proposition so let her continue.

"Why draw the line at working from home when you can work from bed, ...or the park, or the--..

Well it looks as if our meal has arrived, Would you look at that haggis.

mmmhm it look delicious.."

The waiter presented the dish before us as though it were a priceless relic before returning the service trolley and himself to their previous position.

"This is a military facility but I haven't seen one soldier." I stated, as the realisation hit me.

"And you won't, there is no need for soldiers. The only reason we would need soldiers would be if the place existed. Military personnel yes, but soldiers no. Not unless we suddenly go to war or something awful like that. 
Do you like your steak?"

Yes would have been an understatement of insurmountable proportion but that, accompanied by a full-mouthed smile, was never the less my reply.

"Yes"

"There are a number of recreational activities held on site, I will show you the notice-board later. ...bridge nights, chess tournaments, book reading and so on...

Once you are settled in I'm sure you will find lots of ways to occupy free your time."

I had never really considered my family up until then, finally the thought crossed my mind that they might worry...

"We can't call home? ...What if my--"

"Call, No. 
There is mail, you can write any time. But bare in mind you are working in a highly classified building and what that entails. You might just want to say you are over seas, or you are working for the government... I'm sure they will understand. 
If for whatever reason you need to visit home that can be arranged, It's really best to not worry about those kind of things.
Occasionally, every few months or so, people leave the facility for official or recreational reasons but for security reasons an application has to be filled and transportation arranged.

But frankly everyone prefers what the facility has to offer, with the exception of seeing new faces it beast sitting behind a desk in Coventry by miles.

Did you want to call home?"

"No, not really. It was just a thought"

There was reason to call home, and if there it would be a difficult conversation to have. What would I report?  .. That I had been given the best job in the world but I couldn't say where I was, what I was doing, or why I couldn't explain where I was or what I was doing for a living.

I wondered if I would eventually leave never knowing where I had been.

Chapter 3

-- Frequencies --

**unfinished**
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