Signs for Fellow Travelers

KNOX:

The story you are about to hear is not fiction. It is the truth mixed with fiction and that is far more dangerous. Don’t. Believe. Anything. 

KNOX:

Good evening, New Mexico. This is James Knox. We don’t get many letters here at the Midnight After Dark bunker, but one showed up this morning and I’d like to share it with you. It’s from a kid here in Santa Fe. I guess it was for a class project. They drew a little spaceship on the envelope and everything. See, Cass?

CASS:

Keen. 

KNOX:

And it was such a sweet letter, I’d thought I’d start with it tonight. They write:

“Dear James Knox and dear Cass Spectral,

“I’m six years old, in the second grade. My friends tell me there’s no such things as aliens. But my grandad says that everything you hear on Midnight After Dark is real. And Cass seems to know everything. So tell me, are there aliens? And if so where do they come from?

Aw, that’s such a cool letter! Thanks for writing us. First: Does Cass know everything?

CASS:

It’s true.

KNOX:

Convincing. And second: I’m sorry, champ, but no one knows where aliens come from. We don’t know if they’re travelers from other planets; or interpositions from a reality beneath or above or to the side of our own; or holograms projected into the sky by a deceitful government; or a shared Jungian delusion brought about by our society’s desperate wish to flee the material world. No one knows for sure, and if you figure it out you would have done something… incredible.  

But I do know one thing: aliens are real. They’re real. There are reams of evidence collected from every part of the globe. And when you go to school tomorrow, you should look your friend in the eye and tell them: “Listen, Doug, I don’t know who you’re working for, but I’m onto you. And when the visitors from beyond carry me into the eleventh dimension on a chariot made of light and my ego is dissolving inside the cosmic all-being, I won’t be so enlightened to stop myself from going, 'Nyah Nyah Nyah-Nyah Nyah Nyah.'"

Episode Two: Signs for Fellow Travelers. Next!

ANNOUNCER:

Live! from the first draft of civilization, it’s Midnight After Dark, with your host: James Knox. 

KNOX:

Good evening Santa Fe and whatever treads the desert at night. Tonight’s episode will strike directly at the heart of what you thought you knew about semiotics. Our sponsors, the Society of Peripheral Studies sent us a very special guest, Society researcher Mae Gantz, an exo-linguist who is decoding the strange words and glyphs you may have seen around Santa Fe. Mae, thank you for sharing your thrilling expertise with our audience. 

MAE:

6EQUJ5, James. 

KNOX:

The heck does that mean?

MAE:

It’s from a radio transmission we received in the 70s.  It’s called the “Wow!” transmission because it made the researcher go “Wow!” 

I wrote my thesis on it. I argue that it’s Sagitarian for, “Have a good night paradigm.” 

KNOX:

Have a good good night paradigm to you, too Mae. 

MAE:

It’s great to be here! Cass and I went to school together. 

KNOX:

Is that so?

MAE:

Yeppers! The Montessori school for Paragifted Youngbeings. In Madrid.

CASS:

Yeah. 

MAE:

It was a school for young kids with talents. Cass was voted, “Most likely to work underground.” And look at this!

CASS:

Yeah. Tonight’s episode and every episode lives online at MidnightAfter.DK. You may go there to hear past shows and to get a list of resources for tonight’s episode. 

KNOX:

This is an SPS-sponsored production to benefit the Society’s Citizen Scientist Initiative. Now, Mae is compiling a catalog of words she believes come from another dimension. She needs your help! Dial 505-395-7799. That's 505-395-7799 to get involved.

Mae, tell us a little about your work with the Society and what brought you here tonight. 

MAE:

Of course! I’m the Society’s exolinguist, which means I research languages from other worlds. 

KNOX:

Like from outer space?

MAE:

Sometimes! But I think the truth might be more complicated than travelers coming here from another planet. The evidence we’re seeing around town suggests elsewise. 

KNOX:

What are you seeing around town?

MAE:

For the last several weeks we’ve been getting reports of strange glyphs showing up in the region. They’re untranslatable and sometimes they shift from one shape to another. It makes categorizing them very difficult. Little buggers. 

What’s stranger is that these markings are accompanied by... incidents. 

KNOX:

There’s a lot to unpack here. First, is everyone safe?

MAE:

Oh of course. Little spooked, perhaps, but fear’s just so boring, isn’t it? This may be the first and only time in history I can collect these writings as they appear. 

KNOX:

What kind of incidents?

MAE:

Oh, Shenanigans. Smoking. Joking. Maybe a little littering. 

KNOX:

Has anyone seen the travelers who leave these markings? Are we cool calling it graffiti?

MAE:

I think it’s a little more complex than graffiti, but we can be colloquial for a general audience. And, no. No one’s seen the people who leave these markings. No one knows if they even register on our visual spectrum.

KNOX:

You said these travelers may not be from outer space. Where is this writing coming from and what, to you, does it signify?

MAE:

Exo-language means a language not from this world, but it gets complicated. I sometimes describe exo-languages to people in terms of bicycles and spaceships. Our earth languages are the bicycle. They can get you around, but not the way a spaceship could. Exo-speech is the spaceship. You call it graffiti like the travelers are defacing buildings, but I say the travelers are writing on our timeline, leaving directions to other timelines, other causalities alien to our own. When I say “exo-language,” I mean that in every conceivable sense and some inconceivable senses. 

KNOX:

The writers could come from another timeline?

MAE:

Yes. Either intentionally or not. We have evidence that humans in times of great stress and panic have written something that crossed into our reality. An example of that could be the Mystery Stone in Los Lunas, New Mexico.  

CASS:

Please... 

MAE:

The Mystery Stone is a massive 80-ton basalt rock, jammed in the side of Hidden Mountain near Los Lunas. It was discovered by Frank Hibben in 1933. He said an old man led him to the rock and told him that it was there even when he was a boy. 

KNOX:

What’s special about it? 

CASS:

That people took him seriously.

MAE:

Hibben found that the rock was scored with letters, either Hebrew or ancient Phoenician. There are about 11 lines of 214 letters.  

The trick of it is that people can’t agree on the translation. For years it was called the Decalogue Stone, because people thought the letters signified the 10 commandments, but two other interpretations of the rock reveal accounts of travelers in peril! 

KNOX:

Lost. In a distant and indifferent desert. Adrift at the wrong end of history.

MAE:

Dramatic! Yes. One translator claimed it was Navajo and told the story of a major battle. Another translator— You’re going to love this— In the 1970s a woman named Dixie Perkins did her own translation of the stone. She taught herself Greek, Latin and translated old cuneiform texts. So she had some expertise. The tale it tells is of a sailor named Zakyneros and he—

CASS:

“I have come to this place to stay…” 

MAE:

Oh. That’s fine. You can show off. 

CASS:

“The other one met with an untimely death in battle, dishonored, insulted and stripped of flesh. The men thought him to be an object of care whom I looked after, considered crazed, to be tossed about as if in a wind. To perish...” Yadda yadda yadda I used to own olive trees now I’m in exile. Where’s the good part? Oh. 

“I, Zakyneros, just as a prophet, am out of reach of mortal man. I am fleeing and very afraid.” Some junk about feeling bummed out. “Very much is given by the gods, the choicest kind of gifts. I call upon the gods again and again, at the unseasonable time I become gaunt from hunger.”

MAE:

Well done, Cass!

KNOX:

What does it mean?

MAE:

If the translation is correct, it is an account of a Greek traveler named Zakyneros.

KNOX:

Who got marooned in New Mexico?

MAE:

Apparently. 

CASS:

Bogus. 

KNOX:

He’s an exile in the desert with a companion? 

CASS:

Sounds more like lunch than a companion. 

KNOX:

Holy what! It’s like Edgar Allan wicked Poe!

MAE:

And though your producer says the account is ‘bogus,’ we at the Society like to keep an inquisitive mind about the extra-normal. How? How? How could there be such an exile in New Mexico back in ancient times UNLESS he comes from a timeline similar to, but different from our own, where the events we know from history were shuffled around to bring this impossible man to this impossible place? He is an interdimensional traveler!

My theory is that the translations all signify a desperate person from another timeline who passed by that rock and engraved their truth on it. 

CASS:

I’m sensing another traveler from beyond on the stone. They write: “For a good time—”

MAE:

It’s true that people have defaced the stone since the 1930s. But I’m not talking about plain old graffiti. The Stone is a marker along some cosmic highway that happens to intersect with Los Lunas, New Mexico. Zakyneros, wherever they came from, wasn’t from our world. It’s the only way a Greek exile could have ended up in the desert 2,000 years ago.

KNOX:

But why chip away at a rock for hours. Don’t the travelers have phones?

CASS:

How do they call for pizza?

MAE:

Who’s to say phones work between worlds? Who’s to say that these words on this obscure timeline weren’t a big, blinking warning sign to other passers-by?

KNOX:

That’s fair. 

MAE:

Now, the phenomena we’re seeing in Santa Fe is much different. It’s a different dialect entirely. The fifth one I’ve studied, in fact. Cass. 

 True we haven’t cracked this new one so we don’t know precisely what it says, but I get very positive vibes from these writings. These markings we’re seeing now are different but they serve a similar purpose. We’ve been seeing them near geode shops, oxygen bars, tattoo parlors. Whatever is leaving them seems to be having a good time. 

There are many types of exo-languages, but the Mystery Stone and these letters in Santa Fe— I call them Gantzian characters— could both be languages for traveling folk. 

KNOX:

Like a hobo code? Is that offensive?

CASS:

Or a cosmic version of that website that rhymes with “Help.” 

MAE:

You could think about it that way. Or like hiker’s code on the Appalachian Trail. As a traveling star-person intersects with our reality, they may leave behind evidence of their passing, a breadcrumb trail so that other travelers may follow the way.  

Cass and I studied this concept in school together! She was my lab partner. 

CASS:

I got a C. 

MAE:

No, Cass. We got a C. 

CASS:

I got us a C. 

MAE:

But some of us went on to have successful careers in the esoteric sciences. 

KNOX:

Do you know what any of these messages say?

MAE:

No. 

KNOX:

Can you show me one?

CASS:

I can! Here, Mae, hand me that sheet of paper. I’ll show you how I earned that C. 

Cass draws for a moment.

There.

KNOX:

That character looks different than the others. 

MAE:

Obviously! This is from the exo-alphabet discovered by Johan Key in 1935, James. It’s what all first-year exo-linguists study before getting into the hard stuff . Here. You have to stare at it a little to make it work. I’ve practiced this for years and it’s always a little awkward. 

KNOX:

Aah! My eyes! 

MAE:

It takes a sec to get used to. Just try not to focus on any one line. 

KNOX:

It’s like a Magic Eye puzzle turned on a 3 million megawatt blacklight in my brain. 

MAE:

What do you think it says?

KNOX:

Um. “See: Pizza Mountain. An entire mountain of pizza, next right.”

MAE:

Close. Cass’ handwriting is a little out of practice but I think it says “friendly camping nearby.”

Or it says “clothing-optional beach.” Her handwriting is really sloppy. 

KNOX:

It looks familiar. 

CASS:

It looks awesome. I’m gonna hang it up. 

MAE:

The writing may only be part of it.  This... thing Cass wrote is a representation of herself at this moment in our timeline. 

CASS:

There we go. 

MAE:

The word contains not only the semiotic object, but also her thoughts, intentions and desires. These can be read by a being from anywhere or anywhen in any language. 

What in the blue hell was that?

CASS:

Doorbell. I’ll get it. 

KNOX:

So, Mae what can you tell us about the signs popping up around Santa Fe. How recent are they and what nefarious operations, if any, do they portend?

MAE:

And I wouldn’t say they portend anything nefarious. Just hooliganry at the worst. Some extra-planar beings are passing through our dimension and they’re enjoying themselves. This must be pretty recent because we only started seeing them. This caravan, this Spring Break from the Stars, as I call it in my thesis,  is a once-in-a-epoch event. We need to collect everything we can before the symbols disappear. 

CASS:

I’m back. They were looking for pizza.

KNOX:

Tough luck. 

CASS:

I know right? Nothing stays open past 9 in this town. 

MAE:

As I was saying, these signs are accompanied by odd events. A Citizen Scientist spotted one of these symbols near the ski hill the other day. All the grass in the area was bent over, parted to the northeast. Surely that means something. Pies have gone missing from windowsills. And in their place… these letters!

KNOX:

Sort of an omni-dimensional Big Rock Candy Mountain. 

For the love of— 

CASS:

Your turn, Knox. 

KNOX:

BRB.

MAE:

This studio is nice. 

CASS:

I’m hungry. 

MAE:

Sorry about the handwriting thing. It’s really good. B+ work at least. 

KNOX:

There were, like, five other guys out there looking for pizza.

CASS:

Really? They’d have to jump the fence to get here.

MAE:

The one with all the barbed wire?

KNOX:

And signs that say “military-grade electricity. Get lost.” Mae?

MAE:

Yes?

KNOX:

You said the code was meant to be followed, right? As a signpost to others?

MAE:

Perhaps.

KNOX:

Does this code work like a beacon? How far out can it go?

Cass, turn out the lights. We’re not at home. So, how can our Citizen Scientists help you, Ms. Gantz? 

More importantly, can they help us?

MAE:

The exo-words I’m aware of are compiled in a book. You can pick one up at Big Star on Garfield and South Guadalupe. For a fee. There’s a number on there to tip me off to signs you discover.. 

KNOX:

Perfect. 

MAE:

I’m a professional, though! So don’t try hoaxing me. They don’t hand out super-doctorates to just anyone. 

INTERLOPER INSIDE STUDIO:

Pizza?

KNOX:

Get lost, dude! We’re closed. 

INTERLOPER INSIDE STUDIO:

It said there was pizza. 

KNOX:

This is a live recording. Out!

INTERLOPER INSIDE STUDIO:

Pizza? Owwwww.

KNOX:

Cass, what gives?

CASS:

I don’t know. 

MAE:

Some people never change and I think that’s great. 

KNOX:

Is it possible your precog’s not working because these guys are from out of town?

INTERLOPER INSIDE STUDIO:

Pizza? Pizza! Pizza! Pizza! 

KNOX:

Where’d they come from? Get them away from the—

Cut to commercial. 

KNOX:

Are you looking for the perfect night’s rest? Hi, James Knox of Midnight After Dark here. Night Terror mattresses give you ultimate protection from creatures that manifest in the corners of REM sleep. Use offer code...

CASS:

K. We’re back.

KNOX:

Sorry about that, everyone. We retreated into the lower studio. We can hear them moving around upstairs, but we don’t think they know we’re here. We’re watching them on the security feed right now. So odd. Visitors just… appear. Drawn, it seems, to the words composed by our very own producer Cass Spectral. They look like us, but…

MAE:

It wasn't even legible!

KNOX:

...something is missing in the translation. Waxen features. Gray eyes that don’t appear to be looking at any particular thing in the room. With the exception, of course, of Cass’ false advertisement for an entire mountain made out of pizza, an absurd, but uncannily tantalizing concept that— hell— would certainly go on my bucket list if I heard of such a place. Perhaps we cannot blame them. Perhaps they are no different from— oh crap they heard us. 

INTERLOPER INSIDE STUDIO:

Are you the keeper? The pizza master?

MAE:

What do we do?

KNOX:

Back! Go home! Get out of here!

MAE:

That one almost tore the door of the hinges!

CASS:

That’s valid. 

KNOX:

Cass, throw me the phone. I need to make a call. 

PIZZA GUY:

Antonionio’s Pizza. We close in five minutes. What can I get for you? 

KNOX:

I need 30 pizzas right the shoot now! To the station!

PIZZA GUY:

30 pizzas? Is this Knox? Wait, am I on the show? Yoooo, I wanna give a shout out to my boys. Xire. Romus. Lil’ Plutark. The Charger -

KNOX:

Ah!

CASS:

This isn’t good. There’s one, maybe two dozen in the lobby.  

KNOX:

Mae, there’s half a frozen pizza in the studio fridge. 

CASS:

The one from Labor Day? Gross. 

MAE:

Ok? What do you want me to do with this?

CASS:

Just throw it at them.  

KNOX:

Distract them like dogs. 

MAE:

I’m scared.

CASS:

Mae, lob the pizza and we’ll book it out the back door. Got it?

MAE:

I’m scared!

CASS:

Mae, listen. You said being scared was boring. My car’s out back. When we make our move you’re going to run into the desk and that’ll leave a bruise for about four or five weeks. Keep moving. There’s a curb that’s hard to see out in the dark. Jim, you’re going to trip over it, so Mae you need to be there to pick him up while I start the engine. We’re going to bottom out on the pothole out front and its going to bend the rim on my car. Jim, you're gonna owe me for the repairs. 

KNOX:

Cass, this is your fault!

CASS:

And I’m getting you guys out. Mae, you don’t owe me anything except all of your gratitude forever. Got it? No more sniping at me. The academy was twenty damn years ago. You’re fine. I’m fine. 

Are we clear?

MAE:

Clear. 

CASS:

Knox? The repairs? 

KNOX:

Fine. Goodbye, Labor Day pizza. We’ll meet again in the singularity, comrade. 

CASS:

On three. One. Two. 

KNOX:

And so listeners! We close out another show that challenged the unknown so effectively that the unknown reached out and tried to silence us. But we cannot be sil—

CASS:

Are you really doing this right now?

KNOX:

But little does the unknown know that Midnight After Dark, mortal though we are, weremadetochallengetheunknownand Fine! Fine! Let’s just duck and run. 

CASS:

One! Two! 

MAE:

Ow! My hip! 

CASS:

Three!