Short-Story - The Forgotten Frequency

The midnight air hummed with the soft whir of machinery as Dr. Amelia Chen hunched over her computer, her eyes reflecting the glow of endless data streams. The radio telescope facility stood silent around her, a sentinel in the New Mexico desert. The faint scent of stale coffee hung in the air, a testament to the long hours she'd spent chasing an elusive signal.

"There it is again," she muttered, fingers flying across the keyboard. For weeks, she'd been tracking an anomalous signal—a whisper in the cosmic noise that shouldn't exist. The numbers danced across her screen, a pattern emerging from the chaos. Amelia's heart raced with excitement, but a nagging doubt lingered in the back of her mind. What if she was wrong? What if it was all just noise?

The door swung open with a creak, startling her from her reverie. Dr. Victor Krane strode in, his polished shoes clicking against the floor. Even at this late hour, he looked impeccable, his lab coat crisp and wrinkle-free.

"Still chasing ghosts, Amelia?" he said, his tone a mixture of amusement and disdain. The scent of his expensive cologne cut through the musty air of the lab.

Amelia bristled but kept her eyes on the screen. "It's not a ghost, Victor. This signal—it's structured. Artificial." She pointed to a graph on her monitor, a series of peaks and valleys that repeated with eerie regularity.

Victor leaned over her shoulder, invading her personal space. "Nonsense. It's just background radiation. You're seeing patterns where none exist." His breath smelled of mint, as if he'd prepared for this confrontation.

"But look at the regularity," Amelia protested, fighting to keep her voice steady. "It repeats every 67 seconds. That's not random."

Victor straightened, adjusting his tie. "The board meeting is tomorrow. I suggest you find something real to present, or your funding might just disappear." With that, he turned and left, the door closing behind him with a final-sounding click.

Amelia slumped in her chair, the excitement of discovery replaced by a heavy weight in her stomach. She rubbed her eyes, feeling the grit of exhaustion. The soft beeping of her equipment seemed to mock her now, the once-promising signal reduced to mere noise.

The next morning, Amelia paced in her small office, rehearsing her presentation. Her research assistant, Raj Patel, watched with concern, his kind eyes following her movement.

"You've got this, Amelia," he encouraged, his voice warm and sincere. "Your work is solid. They have to see that."

Amelia gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Raj. I just hope they'll listen." She clutched her tablet tighter, her palms sweaty against the smooth surface.

As she stepped into the board room, the weight of skeptical gazes pressed down on her. The air felt thick and oppressive, the silence broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of leather and wood polish, and began her presentation. Her voice was initially shaky but grew stronger as she delved into her findings.

"The signal repeats every 67 seconds," she explained, pointing to a graph projected on the screen behind her. "It's too regular to be natural, too complex to be terrestrial interference."

Victor's voice cut through her presentation like a knife. "And you believe this is, what, an alien transmission?" The room filled with chuckles, and Amelia felt heat rise to her cheeks.

She pressed on, her voice tight with determination. "I'm saying it's worth investigating. If we redirect the array, we could—"

"Absolutely not," the head of the board interrupted, his voice final. "We can't waste resources on this... fantasy. Dr. Chen, while your dedication is admirable, we need concrete results, not wild speculation."

As the meeting adjourned, Amelia felt her dream slipping away. The board members filed out, their murmured conversations a buzz of disappointment in her ears. She gathered her materials with trembling hands, fighting back tears of frustration.

But then, as she walked back to her lab in defeat, an idea struck her. That night, after everyone else had gone home, she snuck into the control room. The facility was eerily quiet, the desert night pressing in from all sides. With trembling hands, she redirected a single dish, aiming it at the source of her mysterious signal.

Hours passed, the tension building with each moment of silence. Amelia's eyes burned from staring at the screens, her body stiff from sitting motionless. And then, just as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges, a new sound emerged from her headphones. A clear, unmistakably structured series of pulses.

Amelia's heart raced, her exhaustion forgotten. This was it—proof. As she rushed to analyze the data, her mind whirling with possibilities, she failed to notice the figure watching from the doorway. Victor stood silent, his face a mask of conflicting emotions—shock, envy, and a dawning realization that everything was about to change.

In that moment, as the sun rose over the New Mexico desert, the boundary between the known and unknown began to blur. Amelia Chen stood at the threshold of a discovery that would rewrite humanity's place in the cosmos. The forgotten frequency had been found, and with it, a new chapter in human history was about to be written.

As Amelia turned and saw Victor, their eyes met in a moment of shared understanding. The rivalry between them seemed suddenly small in the face of what they had just witnessed. Victor opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, nodding slowly in acknowledgment of Amelia's triumph.

Amelia smiled, feeling a mix of vindication and awe. She turned back to her computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she began to document her world-changing discovery. The signal continued to pulse in her headphones, a steady rhythm that seemed to echo the beating of her heart and the dawning of a new era for humanity.

P.S.: This short story is the result of a creative collaboration between the young participants of the Ancre Virtuelle workshop. Over several sessions, children aged 9 to 15 learned how to build the fundamental elements of a short story, such as characters, plot, conflicts, and themes. With the help of artificial intelligence, they were able to refine their ideas, generate scenarios, and experiment with language in a fun way. Together, they brought "The Forgotten Frequency" to life, a work that reflects their collective imagination and their understanding of the mechanics of storytelling.