The meeting point was not a shelter. It was an abandoned recording studio, under Vienna's Gürtel, a maze of soundproof chambers that had formerly captured the city's avant-garde jazz and industrial sounds. Currently it buzzed with a form of vitality.
Devon made his way down into the dusty dimness the atmosphere alive, with the hum of machines and quiet strained talk. Ben waited for him at the foot of the steps. He appeared older a scar marking his temple yet his eyes shone with a fierce unsettled fire.
"They attempted to archive me " Ben said as a greeting his tone coarse. "It seems my mind is a chaotic library. I caused quite a commotion while leaving." He clasped Devon's shoulder. "You discovered the scream."
The studio buzzed with activity around them. Individuals operated with a haste, completely opposite, to Somnum's calm precision. A woman sporting neon dreadlocks was soldering parts onto a circuit board glowing with flashes. A thin man carefully tweaked the settings on an array of analog synthesizers producing waveforms resembling charts on a monitor. The atmosphere carried scents of solder, ozone and robust coffee.
This was The Unquiet.
Agata Vance came out of a chamber filled with medical monitors converted into spectral analyzers. She appeared tired. Her scientific discipline had been honed into a tool. She didn't grin. She gave Devon a tablet.
"We're not simply creating sound. We're generating sound." On the screen appeared a side-by-side display: a refined neural scan from a Somnum user alongside a wild intense one from a non-Calmed individual. "The Protocol doesn't eliminate emotion. It breaks the feedback connection, between the amygdala and the prefrontal cortex. The sensation occurs,. It's subdued, detached from conscious awareness. It transforms into… background noise."
She indicated the bustling chamber. "The Dissonance Emitters. Ben conceived them I handled the tuning. They don't emit a tone. Instead they release a spectrum of human emotional soundscapes—fragments of sorrow, happiness, anger, awe all intertwined. Yet embedded in that disorder are precisely tuned pulses aimed at restoring that broken neural link. To ensure a sensation arrives with its mental impact."
"You're returning the hurt, to people " Devon stated.
"We're restoring their selves " Ben amended. "The suffering, the happiness, the chaos of it all. The Algorithm provides the key. The Emitters serve as the tool that unlocks the mechanism."
A young man with piercing eyes—a hacker called Leo—came forward. "The data coming in from Berlin confirms it. The suppression device is destroyed. The site's natural frequency is… operational. Quite disturbingly. Our transmission there is being boosted by the nexus itself. It's generating a sphere of un-calma.' Individuals are experiencing inexplicable panic episodes, waves of fury flashes of deep nostalgia all, within a two-kilometer perimeter."
"Good " Ben remarked, though his expression was stern. "It shows proof of concept. Now we expand it. The Plague Column comes next. After that London."
Agata cut in. "London is unique. The Millennium Bridge connection isn't solely trauma. It involves trauma and healing. The frequency is more intricate. We require an emitter configuration. One that not triggers but… harmonizes. That aligns with the rhythm of breakdown and recovery."
"Are you able to do it?" Devon inquired.
"We must. If we strike it with the Berlin shock we could end up re-triggering its trauma. We have to adjust it to harmonize." She glanced at the disorderly space. "We possess the calculations. We have the technicians. What's lacking is time. Flavio will unleash all he has on the Column. It sits at the core of his featured city. Allowing us to 'shout' there would be a loss."
As though called forth by her speech the studio's primary lights twitched. The electronic buzz, from their gear faltered briefly then steadied. Leo's hands darted over a keyboard. "Recon assault. They're attempting to locate our power source. Typical Somnum pacification signal, range." He smiled, a glint of delight. "Firewalled. They'll need to arrive in person."
The Unquiet kept calm. They increased their pace. Ben took Devon aside leading him into a room filled with recording tapes.
"We're facing an issue with the Column location itself " Ben murmured quietly. "It's a public area. We can't simply install emitters. The ritual must be carried out. The Algorithm has to be sketched and triggered there. Right, beneath their watch."
"How?"
"A diversion. A louder dazzling display. As their attention is caught by the glare we etch the cry into the rock." Ben's gaze met Devon's. "You must accomplish this. You are the conduit. The Algorithm resides in your mind. You sensed the bunker. You possess the… connection."
Devon recalled the chill of fear the grit, beneath his fingertip. "What's the commotion?"
Ben's grin was slight. "Us. The Unquiet. We're set to perform. An unauthorized Cacophony Event, on the Graben. We'll attract every Enforcer, every Somnum supporter in town. While they're occupied trying to restrain us you make your way to the Column." He passed Devon a weighty case. "Diamond-ended engraver. Quiet. Electric. Implant the Algorithm, onto the monument's base. As much as you can manage. It simply has to be a unified sign."
The mass of the engraver was insignificant, beside the burden of the mission. To carve the cry of awakening into a tribute marking the conclusion of pain amid a clash of frequencies erupting around him.
From the space the initial notes of the intended discord started to emerge—a tumbling barrage of electronic distortion and vocal outcries taken from ages of opera and resistance. It was harsh, striking and completely vibrant.
The Quiet Engine had sought to make the world a library. The Unquiet were going to burn the library down with the fire of everything it had tried to forget. And Devon, the exhausted profiler, was to be their scribe in stone.