ACOUSTIC METADATA

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• TIMESTAMP: Autumn, 2006

• LOCATION: Editorial Meeting Hall

• ACOUSTIC TARGET: Collective halitosis / Deputy Minister Tong’s resonance

• DATA LOG: High-frequency saw-tooth waves (Tian Xiaoning)

 

 

At the editorial meeting, dozens of orderly heads crowded together. The air grew viscous, saturated with the stench of cheap tea and the halitosis of collective anxiety. I adjusted my eardrums. Instantly, their debates and strategies liquified. 

 

Tian Xiaoning’s profanity transformed into a sequence of disordered high-frequency saw-tooth waves. Ge Da’s restraint was a fishing line nearing its breaking point.

 

Their "insights" were nothing more than redundant loops of data on my spectrogram. I stood up, pushing my chair back. That heavy friction of wood against floor was a physical slap across the faces of those "psalm-chanting" souls.

 

I intended to end the farce with a few standard bureaucratic clichés. Instead, the syllables that erupted from my throat were:

“Comrades, everyone, think about it again.”

 

The room fell into a stunned, paralyzed silence.

 

The female editor broke the void: “Chief Editor Bai... were you just imitating Deputy Minister Tong?”

 

“Yes, it’s uncanny,” another whispered. “It’s as if the Minister himself were sitting in your chair.”

 

I couldn't explain that the involuntary reset with Ge Da days ago was only the beginning. I simply waved my hand, maintaining the persona, letting them believe it was a calculated performance. 

 

They retreated to their respective spots in the wall, their minds heavy with suspicion.