A Study on Remote Frequency Part Two And Last

Stevensons Centre for Aeronautics and Other Research was a short, rectangular building at the end of Regent Square, made of grey brick, and inset with several dusty windows; the classic iron railing leading around the front porch was speckled with moss and lichen. The door was slightly crooked, and one window was hanging open, admitting a trickle of greentinged smoke. An air of originality hung about the place, for the flowerbed alongside the porch held not the ever present primly ordered pansies but was instead a wild tangle of sunflowers and weeds.  

At about noon on an overcast Wednesday, a black automobile pulled up next to the door and Jennings steped outside, giving the mossy railing an apprehensive look. He had never been to the Centre, and had expected to find a neatly wood paneled room inside, with a desk thoroughly adorned with placid business cards, and two hard floral chairs that smelled like perfume, as one would expect going into any other building on Regent Square, but the trickle of smoke and the sunflowers were rapidly causing him to reconsider. Furthermore, the crooked door creaked when it was opened, and instead of a chime, a loud splashing and rattling sound announced his presence. Before he had the time to wonder what it was or even get a good look at his surroundings, what he could only assume to be an overexcited desk clerk rushed his way.

“Gracious I never thought that it would work on the first try! Astounding, isn't it?”

He was gesturing towards a spidery contraption that Jennings did not find particularly astounding, but the clerk saw his confusion and was happy to explain.

“This is my newest doorbell, and . . .”

At that moment, a door on the opposite side of the room opened and Lawyer John Lake appeared, holding a cane and wearing a look of disapproval.

“Excuse me, please, Bob. This gentleman and I have an appointment to conduct . . .”

“Oh, certainly. Have a good time!” Bob waved as Jennings hastily followed Lake down the corridor, where he immediately felt more at home. It was a very bland corridor with a polished concrete floor that clicked with every step. Had it not been for a curious banging sound issuing from beneath a side door it would have seemed quite comfortable and normal indeed.

“My apologies, Jennings I meant to tell Bob to remove the doorbell before your arrival, but other things took precedence. I hope you don't mind. The newest models can be quite an inconvenient size.”

“Oh, not at all. Didnt mind a bit,” said Jennings. “Wheres Howard?”

“Howard is already setting things up,” said Lake. “Im afraid we were not able to secure a room with structural equipment, so he is making do with more portable instruments.” Lake paused beside a small metal door inset with a rectangular window looking very old and dusty indeed. “Here it is.”

The door was marked with an ancient plaque reading “Section A, Auto.”

Lake noticed Jennings looking at it and explained. “Section B is reserved typically for engine testing and mechanics, while section A is used for science and explosives. We hoped to gain access to a Section A room, but unfortunately we will have to make to with Section B.”

They entered a small and exceedingly old fashioned room with a hasitly erected table in the center, strewn wit h papers, odd forked instruments, and a large book entitled, Music Theory With Second Edition. The lighting consisted of a single light bulb dangling from the ceiling, producing a constant buzzing sound. Howard was bending over a tiny upright piano, likely the oldest instrument Jennings had laid eyes on, with crooked and discolored keys. Howard looked up as they entered. 

“Good morning, Jennings! How are you, Lake?”

“Very good.” sauid Lake.

“Thank you,” said Jennings.  

A moment of aqward silence followed, but Jennings decided that he, as manager, should be the one to make the first move. He placed his carrying case on the table with an impressive thump, flipped it open, and leafed though several documents before getting hold of the one he wanted. He scanned it breifly, saying,

“Alright, we are here to

“1: Discover a note between B and C

“2: Construct Proof.

“I believe that you, Howard, as musician, could give us a quick description of how you plan to approach this issue. Would you mind?”

“Not at all.” Howard Began. “I have here the fixed frequencies of B and C in these tuning forks. . .”

“Very interesting!” Lake interrupted. “Can I try it? Thank you.” HE picked up a fork, tapped it against his knee, and held it to his ear. “Remarkable thing, indeed. Try it Jennings. Its interesting.”

Jennings obediently copied Lake and held the fork close to his ear. As he did so, a singular note filled his ear as the fork approached.

“Interesting! But do go on, Howard.”

Howard went on. “I have here the same pitches of B and C on this piano,” he pressed two of the proper keys and two note filled the room, one of which coincided with the frequency Jennings had heard from the fork.

“All we have to do,” continued Howard; “is to change the B on the piano higher than it is, yet not high enough to comingle with the higher note above it. I am confident that hundreds, no thousands, of these notes exist, yet undiscovered by man. The proccess of discovering them, however, should be easy. You, Jennings, will come in at the end when we prove what we did is valid. Lake, I am sure that you will have some insights on both sides of the matter, both legal and logistical.”

Both Lake and Jennings nodded.

“We’ll worry about legalities later!” said Howard happily. “Logistics come first, as always! Hand me that screwdriver, will you Lake?”

“I always thought that legal rights came first,” said Lake rather stiffly, but he handed over the screwdriver.

Howard began to pry open the piano with an enthusiasm surprising, given his apperent age and fragility. A moment passed before the front of the piano fell away wit ha clatter and cloud of dust, revealing a complicated looking mechanism of wires and hammers, all horribly dusty.

“Ah. Perfection!” said Howard gleefully, swiping away handfuls of cobwebs as he thrust both arms into the machine and began fiddling and tweaking excitedly.

Lake frowned at the dusty strings. “Where did you aquire such a relic, Howard?”

“Its mine. Had it as long as I can remember!” Howard withdrew one hand and gave the piano a hearty pat on the lid, sending more dust into the air. “It may be old fashioned but its still got lots of energy. Ive played it in concert halls, at church. . .”

There was a great banging and twanging sound as the B string he had been pulling at broke suddenly.  

“Oops.” Howard fumbled in his pocket for an extra string.

“Can you fix it?” said Jennings, wanting to keep up the conversation.

Howard nodded. “Certainly. Last year I did that E over there up in a shoe string so I could make it through a concert!”

“That couldn’t have sounded well,” remarked Lake doubfuly.

“It sounded dreadful---but no one noticed,” Howard stopped suddenly and peered into his pocket. “Thats odd, I lost my extra string.”

“Good gracious. . . Here, I have a shoelace,” Lake motioned towards his glistening black ones. Howard appeared exasperated by the suggestion.

“This is science, Lake. Not a concert. Precision is what we need, even with remote frequencies. . .”

“Wait!” said Jennings. “You said you wanted a remote frequency--- what could be more remote than a frequency caused by a shoelace?”

Howard paused, brow furrowed in thought. He nodded slowly. “Perhaps. . . Theoretically. . . Idealistically. . .” He untied his left shoelace and extracted it from the shoe. “That just might be the case, Jennings! One moment.”

The broken wire was removed and the shoelace substituted thereon, looking very thick and ungainly howbeit far less dusty than the rest. Howard tuned it as tightly as it would go, then pressed down the B key.

It was true that a sound that none of them had ever heard before resulted; though none of them thought it pleasant exactly, there was an original sort of charm to it that made one think of jazz and tubas and staticy radio. Lake and Jennings exchanged dubious looks, but Howard excitedly picked up and listened to both tuning forks, one after the other, then plucked the shoe-laced B again. His face suddenly became a giant grin.

“Yes! We’ve done it! Higher than B, lower than C--- its perfect! Remarkable! Incredible! Outstanding! I shall call it—lets see-- Howard's Key. That should do. Thank you, gentlemen, for being witnesses of an extraordinary event in history!” He looked fondly down at the knotted shoelace. 

The old musician’s enthusiasm was infectious, and Jennings and Lake both found themselves smiling and offering congratulations.

“Now for the legalities. Are you sure you can work it right?” said Howard anxiously.

“Positively, my dear sir,” said Jennings, pulling several clean sheets of paper and a fountain pen from his carrying case. Lake watched the proceedings curiously.

“Put in that the experiment was conducted at this facility,” said Lake. “The CENTER FOR AERONAUTICS AND OTHER RESEARCH is a highly respectable association.”

“Alright, how’s this?” Jennings read aloud, “I, William B. Jennings, along with my accomplice, John Lake…” 

“Accomplice?” said Lake, looking skeptical. “How about ‘fellow witness’?”

“Sure.” Jennings scratched out a portion of lettering and made a note. “To continue, ‘along with my fellow witness, John Lake, due grant license to a musician by the name of Howard, upon the results of a certain experiment conducted Wednesday, fourth of October, in STEVENSON’S CENTER FOR AERONAUTICS AND OTHER RESEARCH. This entitles Howard to name, rename, publish, and sell said result, as well as determine the upkeep, care, and marketing thereof.”

“Very professional,” Howard nodded his approval.

Jennings set aside the paper. “Good. That takes care of the ownership principle. Now the proof. ‘On Wednesday, the fourth of October, in STEVENSON’S CENTER FOR AERONAUTICS AND OTHER RESEARCH, Howard, along with two witnesses, conducted an experiment to find a note between the frequencies of B and C. When the experiment was concluded, the B string had been replaced with a shoelace, which he claimed produced the correct sound. Because none of the other keys were outfitted with anything but the usual wire, it is evident that the sound produced by it would not be like any of the other sounds. Furthermore, the fixed frequency of B, which he had, was lower than the note in question and the frequency of C was higher. Since there is no key between those until now, anything higher than B and lower than C must be somewhere in between.”

“Very good!” said Howard excitedly. “Thanks to you both, gentlemen! Now I should head out and tell my employers that the contract is fulfilled. If you’ll send me a copy of those two forms, Jennings…”

“Certainly,” Jennings folded up his carrying case and stuck it under his arm. “I’ll have them ready by tonight.”

Their conversation, though animated, faded from earshot as the three exited the tiny room, turned out the light, and shut the door, leaving the tiny room along with its old-fashioned piano, in peaceful if dusty darkness. Thus concludes a study on remote frequency.