xp_logs | V=IR: Part Four - Wirth's Law (Reply)

In the Museum of Technology in Vienna, Forge and Doug find the first clue to unraveling what may potentially be one of history's greatest unsolved scientific mysteries, in a device invented ten years too early.

Forge paused in the main hall of the Technischesmuseum, sporting a beatific expression not unlike a medieval pilgrim reaching Jerusalem. "They've got the original turbines from the Ruetz power station," he whispered mostly to himself. "Decades ahead of its time with regards to hydroelectric power. I adapted the model for the Attilani tidal generators - but that can't be what we're here for," he concluded, looking over at Doug. "Can you figure out where the archives are? I don't speak the German."

"No, really?" Doug quipped wryly. Forge's child-in-a-candy-store expression was rather amusing to him, but it made sense, given his power. Doug quickly attracted the attention of a docent, and after a short, polite exchange, returned to Forge's side. "Through that archway and down to the other end of the wing," he said, heading towards the arch at a brisk walk.

Following Doug, Forge glanced around at the various historic exhibits. "It's amazing," he said, "how many people tend to think of science as a measure of the present and the future, completely ignoring the origins of the discipline. Using creativity and ingenuity in conjunction with natural scientific principle to solve any problem. Sure, I mean, we have DVDs and wi-fi now," he said as he brushed his fingers against the surface of a display cabinet as they passed, "but this? This is Old School."

Pausing at the entrance to the museum archives, Forge stopped dead in his tracks as the massive bookshelves and card catalogs came into view. "I take it back," he said, "this is Old School. Um, I'll start at the T's?"

"I guess I'll start at N, then? Just in case it's something wacky by first name?" Doug would be willing to bet that a museum as organized as this one was would have it under T for Tesla, but spreading their efforts just in case was probably a good idea. "Let me know what you find."

Forge nodded and began flipping through the dusty cards. Exhibits were catalogued by specialty, individual names, dates of display, and various other esoteric trivia that resulted in a startling amount of bureaucratic redundancy.

"Technomachinen, Teischer, Teufeltanz... whoops, went too far," Forge scrolled back a few cards. "Hah! They've got one entry for Tesla. It's in... um... okay, I can't read this. Virbo...? Verra... Verbotener Zugang?"

"Means 'forbidden access'. And Teutons take their 'verboten' pretty seriously." Doug tapped a finger to his mouth in thought. "Hm. Any ideas for how to get them to give us access? Maybe play off your Tesla Club membership? Do you guys have a secret handshake or a cool decoder ring or anything?"

"Even better," Forge said as an idea came to him. He waved his hand to a nearby docent and reached into his pocket for his passport. Not the blue US one, however. The purple one stamped with the Attilani royal seal. "Hi, I'm John Forge, and I'm with the Attilan Science Ministry. As you might be aware, we're looking to establish a similar museum in the capital, and the King has asked me to participate in an information exchange with your government, specifically about curating early works in electromagnetism. I'm given to understand you have one of the devices of Nikola Tesla here?" He held out the card from the catalog between two fingers.

With narrowed eyes, the curator took the card, glancing at Forge's passport. "Ja, Herr Forge. This museum has a wide assortment of programs to assist developing nations in cultural matters. Please excuse me for a moment, and I will provide you with the appropriate sparbuch... security passes, ja?"

As the curator walked briskly off, Forge turned towards Doug and gave a small fist-pump of triumph. "And they say I stink at diplomacy."

Doug's eyebrows raised. He'd forgotten Forge had dual citizenship due to the time he'd spent in Attilan. "The Attilan Science Ministry, huh? You work with the Attilan Science Ministry?" Doug had been watching the docent, so he wasn't entirely sure if Forge was running a bluff or not. Not that it entirely mattered, so long as the docent believed it.

"I am the Attilan Science Ministry." Forge said with a grin. "Her Majesty even let me print my own business cards back during the isolação when I redesigned the capital city's power infrastructure." He nodded to the docent returning with their passes and murmured a quick word of thanks as he and Doug headed for the area marked on the card.

Once admitted to the archival storage halls, Forge's nose wrinkled at the sheer amount of dust in the air. "Bouncing Buddha on a silicon substrate, how long has some of this stuff been here?" he complained, trying to decipher the esoteric organizational codes on the card before giving up and handing it to Doug.

"First of all, you had the card upside down, genius." Doug oriented the card correctly and glanced at it before looking up at the shelves around them. "And from the looks of the dust, a really REALLY log time. Anyone else getting a Raiders of the Lost Ark feeling about this place?" Floor to ceiling shelves, filled with the history of technology. Each piece occupied a Germanically precise rectangle, marked out in paint with the item's code prominently displayed. Doug took a look at several of the placards, then pointed. "Down this aisle."

Following Doug's lead, Forge glanced into dimly lit aisles, glancing over various crates and boxes until they stopped at a recessed alcove, with a single bare bulb illuminating what appeared to be a simple metal loop, teardrop-shaped and wide at the top, attached to a base bristling with coils and ceramic insulators. Forge reached down to brush dust away from the placard.

"N. Tesla, 1909," he read. "This is it, obviously what the Folio leads to. So... what is it?"

Experimentally, he reached out his left arm towards the loop. As he did so, the machine let out a discordant squawk that screeched into an almost musical scale of notes as Forge yanked his prosthetic back, shaking it rapidly as he jumped up and down.

"Ow ow ow ow ow! Fucking hell OW!" he swore, clenching his metal hand into a fist over and over. "Static magnetic field. Plays all sorts of silly charley horse games with my arm. But I think I might know what it is. You try."

Doug reached his hand out to the device, cocking his head as the pitch varied in relation to his hand's position. He moved his arm forward and back, causing a rising and falling glissando effect. "I know this," he murmured. "It's a kind of musical instrument. I forget what the name is, though. They used one for the soundtrack to The Day The Earth Stood Still."

"A theremin," Forge nodded. "Was invented by a Russian in 1919, or so history says. But a theremin has an antenna as well as a loop - it uses the heterodyne principle, you're basically acting as a ground when you stand by it. Why in the hell would a musical instrument invented a decade ahead of its time be so important that Milan would want it?"

"I'm guessing we can toss out historical significance, since that doesn't seem to be the guy's style, from what you've told me of him." Doug frowned, waving his hand at the loop idly and listening to the sounds it made. "If he thought he could make a profit off of it, he would have stolen it somehow. It's got to be related to that page of the Folio somehow..."

Forge cocked his head to the sounds of the theremin as he pulled the photocopy of the Folio page from his pocket. He studied Doug's notations in the margins that had led them to Vienna and frowned. "All the data in the text was related to the coordinates here, what else is there?"

Doug took the photocopy from Forge and turned it around in his hands, nibbling at his lower lip. He frowned several times in varying degrees of severity as his brain supplied several different theories, each discarded as quickly as it had appeared. Then, he blinked. "Of course!" he exclaimed, pointing at the lines and small round blobs that had obscured parts of the text on the sheet. "Musical notation."

"The what?" Forge peered over Doug's shoulder. "I just see ink blots, dude. Tesla wasn't exactly known for his neatness in his writings. Whole mad scientist reputation and all. You're saying that this is some musical... what, a code or something? Can you figure it out?"

"That's because you're expecting it to look more modern, something like this," Doug replied, pulling a pen out and transcribing a string of quarter notes and half notes with distinct measure lines. "Early medieval notation looked like...well, a bunch of blobs on a set of lines. Like this." He looked at the music, then looked at the theremin. "I think we're supposed to play it," he said. "Now I just need a reference point, like where middle C is on this thing. I don't suppose you've got a pitch pipe on you?"

Plucking his iPod off his belt, Forge tapped in a few commands, and the small device emitted a clear tone. "There you go. I knew I'd get some use out of this program."

Doug nodded, holding his hand to the theremin and moving it minutely until the frequencies matched. Then, setting the photocopy on a shelf, he began to play the instrument. It took a few false starts and overshooting notes, but he quickly got the hang of things, and a hauntingly alien-sounding melody emitted from the device.

"Reminds me of Apocalyptica," Forge commented, setting his iPod to record. "You know, the folks who play Metallica on cello? Angie and I went to see them in New York, I didn't expect to like it, but it was really quite enjoyable."

Doug gritted his teeth and the theremin almost squealed offkey as his fingers flexed. Yes, he and Marie-Ange were back together, but he was still the slightest bit touchy about the period where Angie and Forge had dated. He continued playing the melody, then frowned at a somewhat soft sound that appeared to be coming from the theremin, a countermelody meshing perfectly with what he was playing. "Do you hear that?" he asked Forge.

"You're not doing that?" Forge replied, leaning in closer and holding the iPod closer to the machine. "See if you can play it louder?"

"No, I'm not doing that. And I don't see anything like a volume control on this thing. You're the genius with machines, you figure it out." The movement of his hand controlled pitch, and it wasn't like a piano where he could press his finger down on the key harder. Moving his hand "harder" simply meant moving it quicker, resulting in a faster shift in pitch but no noticeable change in volume.

"Oh, right, I am," Forge answered sarcastically, closing his eyes and trying to tune out the sounds coming from the machine. Bit by bit, the sensory stimuli around him began to fade to white noise and blankness, until all that existed was him and the machine.

Talk to me, he commanded.

And there it was. As obvious as an open book. "Magnetic encoding, just waiting for the right key," he announced as his eyes blinked open. "It's just like the encryption in the folio, only in sound. Here, let me..." He reached into a pocket and removed a multitool, using his right arm to extend it towards the theremin and make small adjustments to the insulators. "Once more, from the top!"