"Ms. Edmonton," the scientist said. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He stuck out his hand, and Ms. Edmonton gripped it. "We're so glad you've taken the time to visit our facility."
Ms. Edmonton, blond hair graying and drawn back into a tight bun, business suit buttoned to the top, everything about her square and severe and ready to work, nodded. "I'm glad to finally to have the chance. You are?"
"Ah, I am Doctor Ignacious," he said, bowing. The top of his bald head reflected light into Ms. Edmonton's eyes. He stood and straightened his bow tie. "I am the head researcher here, and I will be escorting you through the compound."
"I was told you had a specific reason for asking to have a representative visit," Ms. Edmonton said. Ignacious nodded.
"It's true; one of our experiments has yielded great results, but I figure you will wish to see what else we do." Ignacious turned on a black heel. "After me, if you will."
They started down the long tiled hallway in front of them. After going through a door, Ms. Edmonton found herself following the doctor through a room that was split into smaller areas, each brimming with men and women in white coats, gazing at beakers, scales, electronic instruments, and more. "How much do you know about our facility?"
"I admit -- very little," Ms. Edmonton said. Ignacious nodded.
"Common. We work with many of the things that most people find pointless or worthless. Not deserving of our time." Ignacious shook his head. "Little do they know. Every addition to the scientific community brings greater and greater results! See to our left." Ignacious motioned with his hand to a large window. Beyond, a group of three researchers poked a watermelon with sticks. "Seems strange. Perhaps it is. But we can learn much from fruit." He continued walking.
"It's true," he said. "Many of our experiments yield little useful information, but how would we know unless we try?" They passed a monkey sitting in a barber's chair getting its hair styled. "We are a critical, forgotten, irreplaceable, looked-down upon segment of the scientific community. Put these on." He handed her a pair of headphones from a rack, and entered the next room.
The air pounded on the other side of the headphones. A quartet of researchers, with airbrushed wigs and plastic pants, played thundering rock music. Ms. Edmonton watched them for a minute without a change in emotion. "This?" she tried shouting to Ignacious. He pointed a finger at small rooms in the far wall, each with a window and a researcher on the other side, holding microphones up and listening carefully in their headphones. Ignacious beckoned with a finger and they exited the room.
"We're testing how much sound can come through different styles of windows. Very important sonic information. Different styles of music, live verses recorded."
"Are the costumes necessary?" Ms. Edmonton asked.
"No, but preferred," he said as they went through another door. To their right was a maze of mirrors and lasers, and to their right was a man reading in a lounge chair. He waved to Ignacious and Ms. Edmonton, then turned a page in his book. Ms. Edmonton read a placard near where she stood that said: "Effects of relaxation on researchers."
"A very important study; I'm sure you can agree," Ignacious said. They exited the room. "Nearly to the experiment we discussed earlier. We really are quite surprised at the results. At first it was just a normal data gathering test, but we soon found out more than we could have dreamed. Made those working on it very excited, I can tell you."
"Would you explain the experiment?"
"I could try, I suppose," Ignacious said. "You may not fully understand until you see, but I can try. We started with a fairly simple multi-sided, three-dimensional shape, made of mirrors, and shine a light at it."
"Similar to what was in the room before."
"Similar, yes, but a different method. It was simply to test angles of reflection, refraction, et cetera. We would try different focuses of lights, different laser designs, traditional light sources, and other variables. Quite a list. You may see them, if you wish."
"I may wish. Continue."
"Well, after several weeks of testing, one of the researchers came to me with interesting information. You see, when using a radon-powered laser at a certain point of a zocchihedron that has a certain makeup of mirrors at a very specific angle and opacity . . . well, we had to work our way toward it from the initial report I was given, but we eventually came up with . . . /this/."
He spread his arms out, at the large room. He and Ms. Edmonton stood at the top of a circular set of stadium seating that went around the entire room. In the center, stretching from the floor to above their heads, a giant glass crystal rotated slowly. Around its base dozens of researchers worked.
"See the walls?" Ignacious asked. "They also come into play. Coated with cobalt -- don't worry, it isn't dangerous." He went down the stadium steps. As soon as he got to the bottom he was greeted by another man, who whispered to him urgently. "No, don't worry about that," he told the man. "Are we prepared for a test?"
The other man nodded, and Ignacious told him to proceed. The man snapped his fingers at a few people standing at a control panel, and the lights in the ceiling began to dim, eventually leaving them in darkness. On one section of the room, hoisted up using the stadium seating, a machine began to glow -- the laser Ignacious had mentioned.
A blue beam shot out and struck the now-motionless crystal in the center of the room, scattering the light around them. The crystal began to spin with utter slowness.
It took a few moments, but Ms. Edmonton perceived a strange humming inside the room. It held a clear note for a number of seconds as she attempted to discover its source. Beside her, Ignacious nodded to those that controlled both the crystal and the laser. The crystal began to spin gently.
The hum changed, increasing in pitch and becoming stronger, more like a musical note than an incidental sound. The laser tilted just so, and again the sound changed, growing clearer.
Ms. Edmonton watched, enraptured, as the crystal spun more, and the laser began to interact with the numerous mirrors within. The note thrummed and dropped, sweeping through the air. She glanced at Ignacious, confused. The laser hit one of the crystal's edges and wavered, then solidified into a clear high sound. It hit a dense system of mirrors stationed near one of the crystal's sides and played a lightning-fast tune, leaving Ms. Edmonton dazed at the speed and sounds and bouncing lights.
Ignacious nodded to the controllers and the laser powered down, leaving the room silent and empty. As if coming out of a daze, Ms. Edmonton realized Ignacious was saying something to her. "E-Excuse me, I wasn't listening."
"Quite something, isn't it?" Ignacious repeated. "Remarkable. We're still experimenting with different configurations of mirrors and laser angles. The small tune you heard was the most complicated we've devised."
"It's incredible!" Ms. Edmonton gulped and smoothed a hand down her front. "It's like no sound I've heard. Like playing an instrument made of crystal strings. How is it done?"
"To be honest, we aren't sure. The lasers, the mirrors, the cobalt, all take a part that we have yet to fully untangle."
"I know there is an instrument called a laser harp . . . is this similar?"
"No. The laser harp employs blocking a beam of light as a trigger to play a sound. Here, the sound itself is created by the laser's interaction with the crystal. A different beast."
"Incredible."
"Yes. The potential uses seem limitless currently. We will need to understand more about why it happens before we will be able to apply it to much of anything, however." Ignacious turned to her. The room was returning to normal, the state it had been in when they had entered. "That's all I have to show you. We'll be providing frequent updates. Shall I show you out?"
"I'm sure my superiors will be very interested in what I've seen," Ms. Edmonton told Ignacious at the entrance to the building. "I look forward to hearing from you in the future."
"Excellent. Certainly; I'll be in touch. If we find anything more, you'll be the first to know."
"Doctor Ignacious," Ms. Edmonton said, three weeks later. They stood in the same room. "I came as soon as I could. You said you've found more?"
"After your visit, I brought everyone I could to work on the crystal harp -- our little name for it. We were able to more acutely map how the laser interacts with the mirrors, and found that another substance works even better than cobalt: sodium! We were quite surprised. Come, you will want to experience this."
Ms. Edmonton followed the researcher back to the room that held the giant crystal. There were more people inside than ever, most sitting in the seating around the room, armed with computers and sensing equipment.
"We were able to build a more efficient system for discovering how the crystal would work, and modified it to what you see." Ms. Edmonton came to realize the crystal /was/ different. The inside was now packed full of mirrors and glass panes shooting off at everything angle imaginable, showing her fleeting glimpses of herself, Ignacious, and thousands of other angles from throughout the room. "The crystal you see now is manufactured to produce a specific tune by starting the laser at the top, and moving it down with great slowness as the crystal spins. When the laser reaches the bottom, the song ends. To make a different song, a different crystal will have to be created. Longer songs would require larger crystals; the one you see before you produces a song only four minutes and twelve seconds in length."
"Is the song original?"
"It must be. The sound produced by the crystal is unique; no other instrument comes close. You heard so yourself. It also cannot accurately recreate sounds from other instruments, so it would not sound proper. It would be like playing Fur Elise on the guitar: the proper notes and right timing -- and it might, after all, sound pleasing, even beautiful, yes -- but it lacks the true spirit of the song. No, these songs are new, created by one of the researchers who fancies himself a composer. He worked closely with the others to make sounds that the crystal could produce." He checked over his shoulder. "We are nearly ready. Perhaps ten more minutes. I'll tell you when you're ready to begin."
Ms. Edmonton rested on a seat and gazed at the motionless crystal. It was like a funhouse mirror maze packed into a single spot. She wondered how the laser's light could ever hope to escape from its confines.
Ignacious stepped close. "Nearly ready. I must ask you not record the song."
"My superiors will want to hear it."
"Then they will have to take the trip here, I'm afraid. We aren't sure how well recording the song will work, we have yet to test."
"All right."
Ignacious signaled the researchers near the laser's emitter. The lights went down, and the laser's blue beam hit the very top of the crystal, sending it scattered around the room, blue dots that were held quivering. A note appeared, the beginning of the song. One of the researchers set the crystal spinning, and the note slowly flowed into another. At a final signal from Ignacious, the laser began to tilt down, crawling like an ant, sending the blue dots flying around the room. Notes sprang from the glass.
It was no song Ms. Edmonton had ever heard or imagined would ever hear again. As the laser slowly dropped to the ground and the crystal spun, churning the laser's light into sound through a little-understood process, the air seemed filled. The sound came down at all angles to Ms. Edmonton, who felt the empty space inside her fill up strangely, making her seem compact and heavy. No human could have played the song -- the instrument didn't matter. It would have required eleven fingers, eight guitar strings, six pianos, and the brilliance of a true savant that had worked tirelessly to produce perfection -- and it still wouldn't have been right.
It ended, emptying her once more. The lights came up, the crystal stopped spinning and the laser shut off. Ms. Edmonton saw spots in her eyes, and sucked in a huge breath, feeling unsteady. A tear dropped from her cheek, unnoticed.
"Did you enjoy it?" A voice asked her. She found Ignacious standing next to her. Unable to speak, she nodded. Her mind still buzzed, trying to recall how the crystal song had sounded. "Take all the time you need. Many people are unsure how to respond after hearing it for the first time."
"Spectacular," Ms. Edmonton said after a few minutes. "Can you play it again?"
"Not at the moment. We'd have to reposition the crystal and laser. It takes some time. The fastest we've done it is two hours. I suppose you'll want to contact your superiors."
"Ah, yes . . . yes, I do." Ms. Edmonton stood. "I want to see some of the science behind the crystal; I may not understand it but I'd like to take a look all the same. I'll find a hotel near here and call the office, tell them what I've found." She stood with her back straight and her hands clasped in front of her. "I'm very pleased with what I've seen here."
Nearly the next thing she knew was the feel of the hotel's carpet against her forehead. She remembered -- barely – being driven to a nearby hotel, checking in, and calling her superiors about the crystal harp, but she felt like she'd run a marathon and was just recovering. Her phone told her three hours had passed since leaving the research building. Her hair was out of its bun, leaving graying blond streaks across the carpet, her clothes were rumpled, and her head ached.
She rubbed her skull and looked around. She didn't feel a bump or a cut or any other reason for memory loss. She sat on the edge of the double bed and rubbed her face.
She cleaned herself up, forming the lie in her mind to explain her absence. A long flight and jet lag. Hunger, perhaps. Both. Even better: she'd lost a contact and had to find it. There, that should do it.
She had to figure out how to get back to the research building, but that would be simple. She looked out the window and found herself on what appeared to be the fifth floor. She reached out and tapped against the window, creating a dull, tuneless noise. She dragged one nail down the pane and produced a sharp screech that, for only a moment, brought back intense clarity of the crystal harp's song.
Enraptured she stood, trying to bring it back fully, feeling it slip away and trying to grip it with the claws of her memory and keep it with her. Well, it didn't matter. She'd be able to hear it again as soon as she went back to the research building. She readied to go with speed, calling for a cab as she ran to the lobby, and waiting with taut nerves until the cab rolled to a stop.
"I'm sorry Ms. Edmonton," Ignacious told her minutes after arriving at the research building. "We've had to recalibrate the laser. It's critical to producing the proper sounds. We won't be able to have a repeat performance until tomorrow, I'm afraid. You took so long getting back one of the researchers decided to check something on the laser and found a potential flaw."
Ms. Edmonton exercised her willpower to its fullest not showing her disappointment. If she had been fully truthful with herself, she would not have called it disappointment; she would have called it frustration, distress, or even infuriation.
"Quite all right," she said, the words sticking in her throat. "I apologize for taking so long, I'm afraid I lost a contact almost as soon as I got in the hotel room and neglected to bring spares. I spent much aggravating time searching for it."
"Ah, yes, my son does the same," Ignacious said. "You are welcome to check the data we have on the crystal and laser. Please follow me." He led her to a workroom and went to a computer. He brought up a daunting document with the collected information and began to work her through what they knew about the crystal harp. A great deal of it was far too complex for Ms. Edmonton to understand, and what she could have grasped was quickly overridden by a growing desire to hear the crystal harp's song again. Ignacious' voice drifted into a low murmur that held brief tinges of the song at its edge. She blinked, rubbed her face, and concentrated on paying attention.
"Now a mirror at /this/ angle, using this dilution of laser, creates a middle C, which is the standard starting point that we build off of. We have yet to try many other methods of sound production, and so far this is the most-"
She felt like she was nodding off. She swallowed and tried to shake the song out of her head. Ignacious was oblivious.
"-Of course, the radon laser /does/ pose some complications, least of all is the general untested nature of such a device; we're only a few compounds that have access to one at the moment, so the usefulness of it is limited to when we can get it to work properly-"
"Doctor, I'm afraid I'm getting lost," Ms. Edmonton said.
"Of course. Sometimes I forget others haven't worked this closely with it as I have."
"Perhaps if there was a way to condense the system the sound's creation is brought about?"
Ignacious thought for a moment. "Well, the basic science is that the radon laser is somehow able to resonate with the mirrors and panes of glass, created through angles and the laser's certain properties."
"And the walls? You covered them with sodium?"
"Ah, something else we've encountered. When soundproofing the room the crystal sounded better, but we began to use different elements and chemicals to see if the crystal's strange properties were enhanced by anything in particular. The first one we found that seemed to work better was cobalt, but after your first visit we did more testing. Sodium was not only easier to work with -- as well as safer -- but provided a clearer sound."
"Interesting. You spoke earlier about the difficulties in producing the musical tune. Could you speak more about that?"
"Ah, I figured you'd be interested in that. Well, we first had to uncover out what tones are possible in the crystal. With a crystal this size, not every can be created accurately, A flat three, for instance, is one that gave us no small confusion when we tried to build the crystal. The fifth D is also impossible, but using two tones of D flat and D sharp concurrently it can be simulated, though of course it doesn't sound perfect. With a bigger crystal, getting that sound correct could be possible. The next step is to both work on creating a song that sounds pleasing -- I explained earlier why it must be an original creation -- and one that can actually be created by the crystal. This took the longest amount of time after we started the project in earnest; it was like a puzzle where the smallest advance on one edge leads to the smallest on another edge, and so on. We had been working on it for several months during your first visit. After we were sure we could do it, we began to build-"
The words flowed in one of Ms. Edmonton's ears, battered helplessly against the already-old memory of the crystal harp's song in her mind, and limped out the other side, unable to take up residence. Ms. Edmonton nodded along to the doctor as he talked, unaware that his words meant little or nothing to her. Her full energy, other that this semblance of attentiveness, was focused on trying to remember the crystal harp's song.
It slipped away, turning into a jumble of airy notes stuck between the song and others that she had heard; crass invaders that threatened to corrupt the pure and bright energy of the song further as she tried to keep it locked in her memory.
She came to realize that the doctor had ceased talking, and was looking at her expectantly. "I'm sorry, what was it you asked?"
"Trying to figure it all out, eh? I understand; it's very complicated. I asked if you'd like to hear the song the next time we play it tomorrow."
Her heart leapt. "Yes, I think I would. It's quite the song."
"I agree. Tomorrow we're going to be testing how well it records, as well as several other things." He stood from the chair and Ms. Edmonton did so as well, feeling unsteady. "Why don't you visit at noon, and we can get started then."
"Yes. Yes, I'll be here then," Ms. Edmonton said. She had trouble breathing. Ignacious escorted her to the exit and watched her cab pull away as he waved.
She sat on the edge of the bed as she had done earlier, staring at the wall. She was so tired, she wanted to get to sleep as soon as possible. She didn't though, instead getting onto her laptop and writing an email to her superior, telling him everything that she had seen, describing the song in glowing terms and trying, despite her inability to remember anything Ignacious had said, to explain the science behind the crystal harp. When she was finished she didn't even bother to take off her business suit, instead falling face down on the bed and immediately falling asleep. She hadn't eaten anything all day.
The next day she was at the research building at ten in the morning. She had woken up starving, the song momentarily out of her head. Once fed and cleaned, it had come roaring back, not as memory anymore -- she could no longer recall the configuration of the notes other than brief snatches -- but as a need that she had to quiet. She ate too much at breakfast, not understanding that the hunger she felt couldn't be sated with food.
She got to the research building as soon as she could, forming what she would tell Ignacious. Her heart pounded.
"Ms. Edmonton!" Ignacious said when he came to greet her. "This is unexpected. We certainly aren't ready for a performance yet."
"That's all right doctor. My superiors would like me to explain in greater detail some of the theories behind the crystal harp; I'll simply use the information you provided to me yesterday. I have my laptop with me."
"Ah, well that's fine then. I'll take you to the computer we were at and gather you when we're ready to have our performance."
After Ignacious had left, Ms. Edmonton gazed at the computer screen and its lengthy document, then began to research. She hadn't been lying, not completely. Her superiors had requested more information, but had been much more lax about the speed of it. She used the opportunity to be ready at a moment's notice to go to the room that held the crystal harp. She worked on finding answers to the questions they had sent back to her as she had been sleeping, watching the clock tick forward with aching slowness.
The creeping second hand dragged furrows in her skin that she came to realize she was doing herself.
Finally time reached an acceptable closeness. She went to the crystal harp's room and sat waiting, body humming. The harp rotated slowly, like the second hand from the clock, silently reminding her of the awaited song's slow grandeur and beauty.
"Ms. Edmonton," she heard. Ignacious stood next to her, hands clasped behind his back and a small smile on his face. He fiddled with an ear. "I trust you were able to find everything you were looking for?"
"Not quite. I will require more time to find everything my superiors requested, if that's all right."
"Yes, of course. That's fine then. Are you ready for a repeat performance?"
"Yes."
Ignacious nodded at her curt answer and motioned to the researchers at the laser. He turned back to her and smiled. When a few minutes passed, he frowned and went up to the laser, where he argued with one of the researchers there. It ended with the researcher being escorted out of the building by security.
"So sorry about that; a bit of a human resources complication," he told Ms. Edmonton. "We'll proceed. Please, take a seat."
She sat quickly, leaning forward. Sudden dizziness reminded her to breath. The crystal harp never left her vision, even as the lights dimmed. What bare illumination remained sent webs throughout the room thanks the the mirrors in the harp, and remained fixed as gospel in Ms. Edmonton's mind. These beams of light could no more be changed than could recorded history; they were solid and tangible; they would always exist and would always be there.
The crystal harp began to spin and spin and spin and the song began, and the beams of light were obliterated, new solid, unchangeable, indestructible beams being created and destroyed every moment, and all the while the song took hold down to the smallest piece of her.
That night, Doctor Ignacious was at his desk, in his office. His computer provided the only illumination. He took up his phone and dialed Ms. Edmonton's superior.
"Hello sir. Yes, the final part." He listened. "The ear plugs you gave us worked perfectly. Only one of the researchers fought against it, said that what we were doing to her was cruel and immoral. He has been terminated." He listened longer. "Yes sir. She is in a near-catatonic state and under our control. The experiment was a success."
Ms. Edmonton, blond hair graying and drawn back into a tight bun, business suit buttoned to the top, everything about her square and severe and ready to work, nodded. "I'm glad to finally to have the chance. You are?"
"Ah, I am Doctor Ignacious," he said, bowing. The top of his bald head reflected light into Ms. Edmonton's eyes. He stood and straightened his bow tie. "I am the head researcher here, and I will be escorting you through the compound."
"I was told you had a specific reason for asking to have a representative visit," Ms. Edmonton said. Ignacious nodded.
"It's true; one of our experiments has yielded great results, but I figure you will wish to see what else we do." Ignacious turned on a black heel. "After me, if you will."
They started down the long tiled hallway in front of them. After going through a door, Ms. Edmonton found herself following the doctor through a room that was split into smaller areas, each brimming with men and women in white coats, gazing at beakers, scales, electronic instruments, and more. "How much do you know about our facility?"
"I admit -- very little," Ms. Edmonton said. Ignacious nodded.
"Common. We work with many of the things that most people find pointless or worthless. Not deserving of our time." Ignacious shook his head. "Little do they know. Every addition to the scientific community brings greater and greater results! See to our left." Ignacious motioned with his hand to a large window. Beyond, a group of three researchers poked a watermelon with sticks. "Seems strange. Perhaps it is. But we can learn much from fruit." He continued walking.
"It's true," he said. "Many of our experiments yield little useful information, but how would we know unless we try?" They passed a monkey sitting in a barber's chair getting its hair styled. "We are a critical, forgotten, irreplaceable, looked-down upon segment of the scientific community. Put these on." He handed her a pair of headphones from a rack, and entered the next room.
The air pounded on the other side of the headphones. A quartet of researchers, with airbrushed wigs and plastic pants, played thundering rock music. Ms. Edmonton watched them for a minute without a change in emotion. "This?" she tried shouting to Ignacious. He pointed a finger at small rooms in the far wall, each with a window and a researcher on the other side, holding microphones up and listening carefully in their headphones. Ignacious beckoned with a finger and they exited the room.
"We're testing how much sound can come through different styles of windows. Very important sonic information. Different styles of music, live verses recorded."
"Are the costumes necessary?" Ms. Edmonton asked.
"No, but preferred," he said as they went through another door. To their right was a maze of mirrors and lasers, and to their right was a man reading in a lounge chair. He waved to Ignacious and Ms. Edmonton, then turned a page in his book. Ms. Edmonton read a placard near where she stood that said: "Effects of relaxation on researchers."
"A very important study; I'm sure you can agree," Ignacious said. They exited the room. "Nearly to the experiment we discussed earlier. We really are quite surprised at the results. At first it was just a normal data gathering test, but we soon found out more than we could have dreamed. Made those working on it very excited, I can tell you."
"Would you explain the experiment?"
"I could try, I suppose," Ignacious said. "You may not fully understand until you see, but I can try. We started with a fairly simple multi-sided, three-dimensional shape, made of mirrors, and shine a light at it."
"Similar to what was in the room before."
"Similar, yes, but a different method. It was simply to test angles of reflection, refraction, et cetera. We would try different focuses of lights, different laser designs, traditional light sources, and other variables. Quite a list. You may see them, if you wish."
"I may wish. Continue."
"Well, after several weeks of testing, one of the researchers came to me with interesting information. You see, when using a radon-powered laser at a certain point of a zocchihedron that has a certain makeup of mirrors at a very specific angle and opacity . . . well, we had to work our way toward it from the initial report I was given, but we eventually came up with . . . /this/."
He spread his arms out, at the large room. He and Ms. Edmonton stood at the top of a circular set of stadium seating that went around the entire room. In the center, stretching from the floor to above their heads, a giant glass crystal rotated slowly. Around its base dozens of researchers worked.
"See the walls?" Ignacious asked. "They also come into play. Coated with cobalt -- don't worry, it isn't dangerous." He went down the stadium steps. As soon as he got to the bottom he was greeted by another man, who whispered to him urgently. "No, don't worry about that," he told the man. "Are we prepared for a test?"
The other man nodded, and Ignacious told him to proceed. The man snapped his fingers at a few people standing at a control panel, and the lights in the ceiling began to dim, eventually leaving them in darkness. On one section of the room, hoisted up using the stadium seating, a machine began to glow -- the laser Ignacious had mentioned.
A blue beam shot out and struck the now-motionless crystal in the center of the room, scattering the light around them. The crystal began to spin with utter slowness.
It took a few moments, but Ms. Edmonton perceived a strange humming inside the room. It held a clear note for a number of seconds as she attempted to discover its source. Beside her, Ignacious nodded to those that controlled both the crystal and the laser. The crystal began to spin gently.
The hum changed, increasing in pitch and becoming stronger, more like a musical note than an incidental sound. The laser tilted just so, and again the sound changed, growing clearer.
Ms. Edmonton watched, enraptured, as the crystal spun more, and the laser began to interact with the numerous mirrors within. The note thrummed and dropped, sweeping through the air. She glanced at Ignacious, confused. The laser hit one of the crystal's edges and wavered, then solidified into a clear high sound. It hit a dense system of mirrors stationed near one of the crystal's sides and played a lightning-fast tune, leaving Ms. Edmonton dazed at the speed and sounds and bouncing lights.
Ignacious nodded to the controllers and the laser powered down, leaving the room silent and empty. As if coming out of a daze, Ms. Edmonton realized Ignacious was saying something to her. "E-Excuse me, I wasn't listening."
"Quite something, isn't it?" Ignacious repeated. "Remarkable. We're still experimenting with different configurations of mirrors and laser angles. The small tune you heard was the most complicated we've devised."
"It's incredible!" Ms. Edmonton gulped and smoothed a hand down her front. "It's like no sound I've heard. Like playing an instrument made of crystal strings. How is it done?"
"To be honest, we aren't sure. The lasers, the mirrors, the cobalt, all take a part that we have yet to fully untangle."
"I know there is an instrument called a laser harp . . . is this similar?"
"No. The laser harp employs blocking a beam of light as a trigger to play a sound. Here, the sound itself is created by the laser's interaction with the crystal. A different beast."
"Incredible."
"Yes. The potential uses seem limitless currently. We will need to understand more about why it happens before we will be able to apply it to much of anything, however." Ignacious turned to her. The room was returning to normal, the state it had been in when they had entered. "That's all I have to show you. We'll be providing frequent updates. Shall I show you out?"
"I'm sure my superiors will be very interested in what I've seen," Ms. Edmonton told Ignacious at the entrance to the building. "I look forward to hearing from you in the future."
"Excellent. Certainly; I'll be in touch. If we find anything more, you'll be the first to know."
"Doctor Ignacious," Ms. Edmonton said, three weeks later. They stood in the same room. "I came as soon as I could. You said you've found more?"
"After your visit, I brought everyone I could to work on the crystal harp -- our little name for it. We were able to more acutely map how the laser interacts with the mirrors, and found that another substance works even better than cobalt: sodium! We were quite surprised. Come, you will want to experience this."
Ms. Edmonton followed the researcher back to the room that held the giant crystal. There were more people inside than ever, most sitting in the seating around the room, armed with computers and sensing equipment.
"We were able to build a more efficient system for discovering how the crystal would work, and modified it to what you see." Ms. Edmonton came to realize the crystal /was/ different. The inside was now packed full of mirrors and glass panes shooting off at everything angle imaginable, showing her fleeting glimpses of herself, Ignacious, and thousands of other angles from throughout the room. "The crystal you see now is manufactured to produce a specific tune by starting the laser at the top, and moving it down with great slowness as the crystal spins. When the laser reaches the bottom, the song ends. To make a different song, a different crystal will have to be created. Longer songs would require larger crystals; the one you see before you produces a song only four minutes and twelve seconds in length."
"Is the song original?"
"It must be. The sound produced by the crystal is unique; no other instrument comes close. You heard so yourself. It also cannot accurately recreate sounds from other instruments, so it would not sound proper. It would be like playing Fur Elise on the guitar: the proper notes and right timing -- and it might, after all, sound pleasing, even beautiful, yes -- but it lacks the true spirit of the song. No, these songs are new, created by one of the researchers who fancies himself a composer. He worked closely with the others to make sounds that the crystal could produce." He checked over his shoulder. "We are nearly ready. Perhaps ten more minutes. I'll tell you when you're ready to begin."
Ms. Edmonton rested on a seat and gazed at the motionless crystal. It was like a funhouse mirror maze packed into a single spot. She wondered how the laser's light could ever hope to escape from its confines.
Ignacious stepped close. "Nearly ready. I must ask you not record the song."
"My superiors will want to hear it."
"Then they will have to take the trip here, I'm afraid. We aren't sure how well recording the song will work, we have yet to test."
"All right."
Ignacious signaled the researchers near the laser's emitter. The lights went down, and the laser's blue beam hit the very top of the crystal, sending it scattered around the room, blue dots that were held quivering. A note appeared, the beginning of the song. One of the researchers set the crystal spinning, and the note slowly flowed into another. At a final signal from Ignacious, the laser began to tilt down, crawling like an ant, sending the blue dots flying around the room. Notes sprang from the glass.
It was no song Ms. Edmonton had ever heard or imagined would ever hear again. As the laser slowly dropped to the ground and the crystal spun, churning the laser's light into sound through a little-understood process, the air seemed filled. The sound came down at all angles to Ms. Edmonton, who felt the empty space inside her fill up strangely, making her seem compact and heavy. No human could have played the song -- the instrument didn't matter. It would have required eleven fingers, eight guitar strings, six pianos, and the brilliance of a true savant that had worked tirelessly to produce perfection -- and it still wouldn't have been right.
It ended, emptying her once more. The lights came up, the crystal stopped spinning and the laser shut off. Ms. Edmonton saw spots in her eyes, and sucked in a huge breath, feeling unsteady. A tear dropped from her cheek, unnoticed.
"Did you enjoy it?" A voice asked her. She found Ignacious standing next to her. Unable to speak, she nodded. Her mind still buzzed, trying to recall how the crystal song had sounded. "Take all the time you need. Many people are unsure how to respond after hearing it for the first time."
"Spectacular," Ms. Edmonton said after a few minutes. "Can you play it again?"
"Not at the moment. We'd have to reposition the crystal and laser. It takes some time. The fastest we've done it is two hours. I suppose you'll want to contact your superiors."
"Ah, yes . . . yes, I do." Ms. Edmonton stood. "I want to see some of the science behind the crystal; I may not understand it but I'd like to take a look all the same. I'll find a hotel near here and call the office, tell them what I've found." She stood with her back straight and her hands clasped in front of her. "I'm very pleased with what I've seen here."
Nearly the next thing she knew was the feel of the hotel's carpet against her forehead. She remembered -- barely – being driven to a nearby hotel, checking in, and calling her superiors about the crystal harp, but she felt like she'd run a marathon and was just recovering. Her phone told her three hours had passed since leaving the research building. Her hair was out of its bun, leaving graying blond streaks across the carpet, her clothes were rumpled, and her head ached.
She rubbed her skull and looked around. She didn't feel a bump or a cut or any other reason for memory loss. She sat on the edge of the double bed and rubbed her face.
She cleaned herself up, forming the lie in her mind to explain her absence. A long flight and jet lag. Hunger, perhaps. Both. Even better: she'd lost a contact and had to find it. There, that should do it.
She had to figure out how to get back to the research building, but that would be simple. She looked out the window and found herself on what appeared to be the fifth floor. She reached out and tapped against the window, creating a dull, tuneless noise. She dragged one nail down the pane and produced a sharp screech that, for only a moment, brought back intense clarity of the crystal harp's song.
Enraptured she stood, trying to bring it back fully, feeling it slip away and trying to grip it with the claws of her memory and keep it with her. Well, it didn't matter. She'd be able to hear it again as soon as she went back to the research building. She readied to go with speed, calling for a cab as she ran to the lobby, and waiting with taut nerves until the cab rolled to a stop.
"I'm sorry Ms. Edmonton," Ignacious told her minutes after arriving at the research building. "We've had to recalibrate the laser. It's critical to producing the proper sounds. We won't be able to have a repeat performance until tomorrow, I'm afraid. You took so long getting back one of the researchers decided to check something on the laser and found a potential flaw."
Ms. Edmonton exercised her willpower to its fullest not showing her disappointment. If she had been fully truthful with herself, she would not have called it disappointment; she would have called it frustration, distress, or even infuriation.
"Quite all right," she said, the words sticking in her throat. "I apologize for taking so long, I'm afraid I lost a contact almost as soon as I got in the hotel room and neglected to bring spares. I spent much aggravating time searching for it."
"Ah, yes, my son does the same," Ignacious said. "You are welcome to check the data we have on the crystal and laser. Please follow me." He led her to a workroom and went to a computer. He brought up a daunting document with the collected information and began to work her through what they knew about the crystal harp. A great deal of it was far too complex for Ms. Edmonton to understand, and what she could have grasped was quickly overridden by a growing desire to hear the crystal harp's song again. Ignacious' voice drifted into a low murmur that held brief tinges of the song at its edge. She blinked, rubbed her face, and concentrated on paying attention.
"Now a mirror at /this/ angle, using this dilution of laser, creates a middle C, which is the standard starting point that we build off of. We have yet to try many other methods of sound production, and so far this is the most-"
She felt like she was nodding off. She swallowed and tried to shake the song out of her head. Ignacious was oblivious.
"-Of course, the radon laser /does/ pose some complications, least of all is the general untested nature of such a device; we're only a few compounds that have access to one at the moment, so the usefulness of it is limited to when we can get it to work properly-"
"Doctor, I'm afraid I'm getting lost," Ms. Edmonton said.
"Of course. Sometimes I forget others haven't worked this closely with it as I have."
"Perhaps if there was a way to condense the system the sound's creation is brought about?"
Ignacious thought for a moment. "Well, the basic science is that the radon laser is somehow able to resonate with the mirrors and panes of glass, created through angles and the laser's certain properties."
"And the walls? You covered them with sodium?"
"Ah, something else we've encountered. When soundproofing the room the crystal sounded better, but we began to use different elements and chemicals to see if the crystal's strange properties were enhanced by anything in particular. The first one we found that seemed to work better was cobalt, but after your first visit we did more testing. Sodium was not only easier to work with -- as well as safer -- but provided a clearer sound."
"Interesting. You spoke earlier about the difficulties in producing the musical tune. Could you speak more about that?"
"Ah, I figured you'd be interested in that. Well, we first had to uncover out what tones are possible in the crystal. With a crystal this size, not every can be created accurately, A flat three, for instance, is one that gave us no small confusion when we tried to build the crystal. The fifth D is also impossible, but using two tones of D flat and D sharp concurrently it can be simulated, though of course it doesn't sound perfect. With a bigger crystal, getting that sound correct could be possible. The next step is to both work on creating a song that sounds pleasing -- I explained earlier why it must be an original creation -- and one that can actually be created by the crystal. This took the longest amount of time after we started the project in earnest; it was like a puzzle where the smallest advance on one edge leads to the smallest on another edge, and so on. We had been working on it for several months during your first visit. After we were sure we could do it, we began to build-"
The words flowed in one of Ms. Edmonton's ears, battered helplessly against the already-old memory of the crystal harp's song in her mind, and limped out the other side, unable to take up residence. Ms. Edmonton nodded along to the doctor as he talked, unaware that his words meant little or nothing to her. Her full energy, other that this semblance of attentiveness, was focused on trying to remember the crystal harp's song.
It slipped away, turning into a jumble of airy notes stuck between the song and others that she had heard; crass invaders that threatened to corrupt the pure and bright energy of the song further as she tried to keep it locked in her memory.
She came to realize that the doctor had ceased talking, and was looking at her expectantly. "I'm sorry, what was it you asked?"
"Trying to figure it all out, eh? I understand; it's very complicated. I asked if you'd like to hear the song the next time we play it tomorrow."
Her heart leapt. "Yes, I think I would. It's quite the song."
"I agree. Tomorrow we're going to be testing how well it records, as well as several other things." He stood from the chair and Ms. Edmonton did so as well, feeling unsteady. "Why don't you visit at noon, and we can get started then."
"Yes. Yes, I'll be here then," Ms. Edmonton said. She had trouble breathing. Ignacious escorted her to the exit and watched her cab pull away as he waved.
She sat on the edge of the bed as she had done earlier, staring at the wall. She was so tired, she wanted to get to sleep as soon as possible. She didn't though, instead getting onto her laptop and writing an email to her superior, telling him everything that she had seen, describing the song in glowing terms and trying, despite her inability to remember anything Ignacious had said, to explain the science behind the crystal harp. When she was finished she didn't even bother to take off her business suit, instead falling face down on the bed and immediately falling asleep. She hadn't eaten anything all day.
The next day she was at the research building at ten in the morning. She had woken up starving, the song momentarily out of her head. Once fed and cleaned, it had come roaring back, not as memory anymore -- she could no longer recall the configuration of the notes other than brief snatches -- but as a need that she had to quiet. She ate too much at breakfast, not understanding that the hunger she felt couldn't be sated with food.
She got to the research building as soon as she could, forming what she would tell Ignacious. Her heart pounded.
"Ms. Edmonton!" Ignacious said when he came to greet her. "This is unexpected. We certainly aren't ready for a performance yet."
"That's all right doctor. My superiors would like me to explain in greater detail some of the theories behind the crystal harp; I'll simply use the information you provided to me yesterday. I have my laptop with me."
"Ah, well that's fine then. I'll take you to the computer we were at and gather you when we're ready to have our performance."
After Ignacious had left, Ms. Edmonton gazed at the computer screen and its lengthy document, then began to research. She hadn't been lying, not completely. Her superiors had requested more information, but had been much more lax about the speed of it. She used the opportunity to be ready at a moment's notice to go to the room that held the crystal harp. She worked on finding answers to the questions they had sent back to her as she had been sleeping, watching the clock tick forward with aching slowness.
The creeping second hand dragged furrows in her skin that she came to realize she was doing herself.
Finally time reached an acceptable closeness. She went to the crystal harp's room and sat waiting, body humming. The harp rotated slowly, like the second hand from the clock, silently reminding her of the awaited song's slow grandeur and beauty.
"Ms. Edmonton," she heard. Ignacious stood next to her, hands clasped behind his back and a small smile on his face. He fiddled with an ear. "I trust you were able to find everything you were looking for?"
"Not quite. I will require more time to find everything my superiors requested, if that's all right."
"Yes, of course. That's fine then. Are you ready for a repeat performance?"
"Yes."
Ignacious nodded at her curt answer and motioned to the researchers at the laser. He turned back to her and smiled. When a few minutes passed, he frowned and went up to the laser, where he argued with one of the researchers there. It ended with the researcher being escorted out of the building by security.
"So sorry about that; a bit of a human resources complication," he told Ms. Edmonton. "We'll proceed. Please, take a seat."
She sat quickly, leaning forward. Sudden dizziness reminded her to breath. The crystal harp never left her vision, even as the lights dimmed. What bare illumination remained sent webs throughout the room thanks the the mirrors in the harp, and remained fixed as gospel in Ms. Edmonton's mind. These beams of light could no more be changed than could recorded history; they were solid and tangible; they would always exist and would always be there.
The crystal harp began to spin and spin and spin and the song began, and the beams of light were obliterated, new solid, unchangeable, indestructible beams being created and destroyed every moment, and all the while the song took hold down to the smallest piece of her.
That night, Doctor Ignacious was at his desk, in his office. His computer provided the only illumination. He took up his phone and dialed Ms. Edmonton's superior.
"Hello sir. Yes, the final part." He listened. "The ear plugs you gave us worked perfectly. Only one of the researchers fought against it, said that what we were doing to her was cruel and immoral. He has been terminated." He listened longer. "Yes sir. She is in a near-catatonic state and under our control. The experiment was a success."