Everyone remembers where they were [[the night that it all started->Intro2]].<<set $friend to 1>><<audio "pageturn" play>><<set $adultseeker to "false">>It was a day like any other, unremarkable for many - to a point. You were ten; young enough that the [[days stretched long->Day1]], old enough to begin to appreciate @@.info;[[how wide the world was->World1]]@@.<<audio "pageturn" play>>Today was much like many others. Studies. Fitting in as much play as possible. A book, sneakily read under the table at lunch - sure, you'd been caught with it, but only because Stacey Bridges snitched on you. And then you'd caught up with [[your best friend]].<<audio "pageturn" play>>There was war, of course. Unsettling, but unfocused for you. The nightly news showed pictures of tanks being targeted, of soldiers marching, of helicopters and grey-haired old men and women talking in front of maps. The Prime Minister had been on a couple of times, but Dad kept turning the TV off in disgust. @@.info;[[Mum would just tut->Mum1]]@@ and pour herself a gin.
The day had been [[a busy one,->Day1]] though...<<audio "pageturn" play>><label>What was their name again? <<textbox "$name" "Charlie">></label>
[[How could I forget that?->Day2]]<<audio "pageturn" play>>$name had caught up with you once you were out of uniform and free to play.
"Let's meet up later. We could [[go to the park->Park1]], hang out. Or [[bike around a bit->Bike1]], maybe?"<<audio "pageturn" play>>You worried a little about their relationship, your mum and dad. They argued a lot - mostly about money. You never really wanted for anything - birthday and Christmas presents were always bountiful - but as you matured you had begun to realise that sometimes there were savings made in other places, and meals were always home-made where maybe your friends at school had takeaways. [[But it didn't bother you.->Mum2]]<<audio "pageturn" play>>Your best friend had a TV in their bedroom - the height of luxury. Your house had just the one TV, in the front room.
[[It didn't bother you.->Day1]]<<audio "pageturn" play>>The local neighbourhood was a great place to cycle. There were lots of little alleys that slipped down the sides of garages, hodgepodge roads that linked to each other almost at random and little cut-throughs that might, or might not, have been private property. You could build up what felt like [[a crazy speed.->Bike2]]<<audio "pageturn" play>>The park wasn't much to speak of - a wide open green space, wide enough that you could walk across it in three or four minutes. It was a stage for your fantasies though; the place where you would dream, or pretend to be whatever cartoon characters were popular that week. There was a play area in the corner that had swings and a seesaw - perfect for two young minds to while away an hour or so [[working out how the world works.->Park2]]<<audio "pageturn" play>>On the best days, the Ice Cream van came round. You would follow his tinkling bell, feeling like you were in a movie, trying to work out where he would stop. The challenge wasn't to follow him - that was too easy. It was to take as many shortcuts as possible to get there. [[Today wasn't one of those days, though.->This evening-bike]]<<audio "pageturn" play>>The weather was pretty great - warm enough that you didn't need another layer, with a cool-enough breeze to make it comfortable. $name led you, feet pedalling furiously, along past the pond and up towards the park, enjoying the feel of the wind in your hair and the scent of grass. Before long, you're sat on a bench at the park.
$name seems [[more puffed out than you->Friendcheck]]. "Hey," they say, "[[you want a drink->Shopchoiceyes]]? Thinking lemonade from the corner shop. [[Or not, I guess->Shopchoiceno]]?"<<audio "pageturn" play>>There weren't usually too many people there; dogwalkers, mostly, much to your parents' annoyance. "They never pick up their waste," Dad would grumble. This evening, it was blessedly clear - just a couple of older kids smoking roll-ups, idly sat on the swings. $name had brought their current favourite toy - always something new - and you sat for a while together playing. [[Just like always.->This evening-park]]<<audio "pageturn" play>>The game you're making up as you go along doesn't last forever, of course. Eventually $name invents a rule that means they 'win', at least in your eyes.
"Guess we should stop there," $name says, picking up their jumper.
"[[That's not fair, you can't just change things at the last moment!->Friendchoice1]]"
"[[Ok - but next time, I get to make the rules!->Friendchoice2]]"<<audio "pageturn" play>>"Well maybe I'm just better at it than you," $name says, but you catch [[a little bit of tiredness->Friendcheck]] in their voice. "It's getting late, and [[I'm thirsty.->Shopchoiceyes]] I might get lemonade. You want one? [[Or not->Shopchoiceno]]?"<<audio "pageturn" play>>"Yeah, sure," $name says, and smiles. "I was getting [[pretty tired->Friendcheck]], anyway. Hey, we could [[get drinks->Shopchoiceyes]] from the corner shop? Or [[just sit->Shopchoiceno]]."<<audio "pageturn" play>>$name shrugs and waves your question away. "I'm ok. Just not sleeping great. Got this neat book with puzzles, and a cool story about Egypt, and one of the puzzles is really difficult-"
You listen with rapt attention as $name explains about the book, in all its intricacies, and how late they've sneakily been staying up to finish it.
Suddenly, they stop. "Oh right, sorry" $name says. "[[Drink?->Shopchoiceyes]] Or [[not->Shopchoiceno]]?" <<set $friend++>><<audio "pageturn" play>>You pretend not to notice as $name buys you both a lemonade without even asking if you've got the money. You don't think that they really know that things are different in your houses; you just thank them and enjoy the sweet treat, [[sat on the bench->Benchchat1]] next to $name.<<audio "pageturn" play>>"Guess I can wait until I get home," $name says. They relax back onto [[the bench->Benchchat1]] next to you.<<audio "pageturn" play>>You sit for a few moments in companionable silence.
<<if $silencechat is 1 and $schoolchat is 1 and $moviechat is 1 and $parentchat is 1>> Ask about [[tomorrow->The Hum1]].<</if>><<nobr>>
<<if $parentchat is not 1>>[[Talk about parents->Benchparents1]]<br><</if>>
<<if $moviechat is not 1>>[[Talk about movies->Benchmovies1]]<br><</if>>
<<if $schoolchat is not 1>>[[Talk about school->Benchschool1]]<br><</if>>
<<if $silencechat is not 1>>[[Stay silent and enjoy the moment.->Benchsilence]]<</if>><</nobr>><<audio "pageturn" play>>"Hey, did your mum get that job she was going for," $name says, catching you completely unaware. You weren't even aware they knew about it, never mind checking up on it.
She didn't get it. It went to someone else - someone less qualified, according to dad, someone who probably got the job laying on their back. You're not sure what that means, but you tell $name as if you do, and they nod wisely back.
"Stuff at home... @@.info;[[Dad's... difficult to be around->Benchparents2]]@@," $name says, without you even asking, and you're [[not certain->Benchchat1]] they want you to press.<<set $parentchat to 1>><<audio "pageturn" play>>You sit and enjoy the evening breeze. There's no sound but your breathing and the distant shouting of a dog owner who has lost control of their puppy. You and $name watch as the owner chases after the puppy, who has grabbed the leash in their mouth and is running, flat out, across the park. It's pretty funny, and you turn to say something devastatingly witty to $name.
"Ever wonder where your lap goes when you stand up," $name says, while you're still thinking.
[[The moment is lost.->Benchchat1]]<<audio "pageturn" play>><<set $silencechat to 1>>Before you can even think of what to say, $name is there. "You seen that new film? The one about the boat that sinks. We saw it in the cinema, and the special effects are amazing. It had the things that blow water in your face when the characters get wet and everything."
[[You haven't seen it->Benchchat1]]. You don't get to go to the cinema that often - birthdays, usually - but there was a good @@.info;[[movie on TV->Benchmovies2]]@@ the other day.<<set $moviechat to 1>><<audio "pageturn" play>>$name sighs. "Got told off again today. Was flicking bits of paper at Stacey in Maths. But I was bored; Mr Piper's so boring. I feel like she deserves it, though - she's a snitch." There's a brief pause, and then $name sighs. "I don't want to tell my dad though. He'll go nuts. And [[why are we talking about boring school, anyway?->Benchchat1]]"<<set $schoolchat to 1>><<audio "pageturn" play>>"Hey-" you say, and at that moment, [[it begins->The Hum2]].You have a go at making a film you saw on TV over the weekend sound awesome.
"I've got that one," $name says grinning. "The music's great, and there's this cool bit where..."
You spend a couple of minutes going back and forth on exactly which bits were the best, and then act one out. $name plays the lead character, naturally - it's always that way, but [[you're fine with it->Benchchat1]]<<audio "pageturn" play>>"Yeah... he shouts a lot, y'know," $name says, picking at a splinter in the bench. "I don't really want to talk about it. Things haven't really been right since, uh..."
$name trails off, and you [[give them a little space->Benchchat1]].<<set $parentchat to 1>><<audio "pageturn" play>>The sound cut through everything, loud enough that it was clearly audible but not so loud that you couldn't hear other things. Not so loud that you couldn't hear the car screeching somewhere, @@.info;[[a crash->Crash1]]@@; not so loud that you couldn't hear $name shout something incoherent; and not so loud that you couldn't hear @@.info;[[your own heartbeat->Heartbeat1]]@@.
You turned to $name, seeing your confusion mirrored on their face.
"[[What the hell is that,->The Hum4]]" they say.At first you assumed it was something nearby - a factory, maybe, or a house. A van backing up, or a plane taking off. Or crashing. [[It was omnipresent.->The Hum3]]<<audio "hum" loop play>>The sound continues, the interminable drone, and you slap your hands over your ears to block it out.
[[It does nothing.->The Hum5]]It's difficult to see - a hedge runs around the outside of the park - but there's the insistent sound of a horn blaring now in addition to the droning noise. It sounds like more than one car was involved, though, and there's the faint sound of people shouting in that direction.
[[Weird that you can hear that with this... noise.->The Hum3]]You feel slightly sick; whatever it is, it cuts right through you, turning your stomach. You've never felt like this before, not even when you had a week off school and couldn't keep any food down; this was different. This was [[more real->The Hum3]], somehow.The sound is //[[in your head.->The Hum6]]//One look at $name and you can see they're dealing with the same thing.
"What is it," they shout. You wince - somehow, you can hear them perfectly clearly despite whatever this is. It's not drowning anything out - it's just //there//.
"[[I don't know, but I think it's in our heads...->The Hum7convo]]"
[[Look at the playground.->The Hum7playground]]
[[Get up and look at the crash you heard.->TheHum7crash]]
[[Flee - get on your bike and go home.->The Hum8]]You leave $name by the bench and jog over to the corner of the park, where there's a gap between the hedges. The road beyond curves around, eventually taking you back towards your house, but it's chaos. One car looks like it's driven completely off the road, into a lamp-post on the other side. Two more have slammed into the back of it. There's smoke coming from under the bonnet of the first car.
No-one seems badly injured, though. A man and a woman are shouting at each other; another man is stumbling around, a line of blood seeping from a small cut on his forehead, hands over his ears.
Whatever this is, it's affecting them too.
[[Help them - arbitrate the crash, calm people down, arrange for emergency services.->crash2]]
[[Go back to your friend->crash3]].<<set $crash to 1>>"In our heads?" $name says, standing up and backing away a couple of paces. "That... can't be right." They beat softly at the side of their head with their fists. "I can't... it's just there. All the time."
You nod. It's there all the time, beneath everything, behind everything.
"[[What do we do?->The Hum7convo1]]"
"[[Are you ok?->The Hum7convo2]]"
[[Stay silent.->The Hum7convo3]]The two teenagers on the swings are stood up, one of them shouting at the other one. It's difficult to hear what they're saying from here, but a couple of words you're pretty sure are swears drift across. It's weird; whatever this sound is, it's there, constant, but you can hear other things perfectly fine.
It's not affecting your ears.
You catch your breath as one of the teens punches the other one, hard enough to knock them down, and quickly turn your eyes away and back to $name.
"[[It's in our heads.->The Hum7convo]]"
[[Investigate the crashed vehicles.->TheHum7crash]] <<set $playground to 1>>"I don't... I don't know." $name looks worried. "I think I need to go check on my dad. He, um..."
You remember suddenly that $name's father came back from the war with some odd habits. Not liking certain noises, loud sounds. You always have to be quiet when you're at their house. The sound doesn't seem that loud to you, but still...
"[[Do you want me to come with you?->The Humconvoend1]]"
"[[It'll be ok. I'll see you tomorrow.->The Humconvoend2]]"
[[Go with them as far as your own house - you need to be with your family.->The Hum8ride]]"What do you think?" $name shakes their head. "This is crazy! I've got this noise in my ear, this whatever it is, and you have, and... everyone." Their eyes widen. "And dad. With everything, and now this... I've gotta go."
As they mount up on their bike, you remember that $name's father came back from the war changed. He was friendly before, but... after, there were some odd habits. Odd moods. He didn't want to be around loud noises; Fireworks at New Year particularly were bad, and even though $name didn't talk about it, you knew it was a struggle sometimes. The sound isn't too loud for you, but still...
You always have to be quiet when you're at their house.
"[[Do you want me to come with you?->The Humconvoend1]]"
"[[It'll be ok. I'll see you tomorrow.->The Humconvoend2]]"
[[Go with them as far as your own house - you need to be with your family.->The Hum8ride]]$name walks back and forward a few paces, drumming their hands on their ears. "Is it... aliens? Some sort of superpower someone has? It's like something out of a dumb movie, but... this is terrible. And it's so loud!"
It's not too loud for you - just always there. Their eyes go wide, and at almost the same time you remember that their dad has a condition. Something about loud noises - since he came back from the war, they set him off into bad moods. Or arguments. $name hasn't really gone into it, but you know that you have to be quiet when you're over at theirs.
"[[Do you want me to come with you?->The Humconvoend1]]"
"[[It'll be ok. I'll see you tomorrow.->The Humconvoend2]]"
[[Go with them as far as your own house - you need to be with your family.->The Hum8ride]]"No... no, it's probably ok. It'll be ok." $name doesn't look sure, but you don't stop them as they get on their bike. "Thanks for asking, though. I'll see you tomorrow."
You watch them pedal off, fast as you've ever seen them ride.
[[Look over at the playground.->Hum7PlaygroundLater]]
[[Go look for the crashed vehicles.->Hum7CrashLater]]
[[Go home.->The Hum8]] <<set $friend++>>"Yeah. I'm sure it'll be fine," $name says, mounting up on their bike. They shake their head, as if trying to dislodge the sound, whatever it is. "See you tomorrow, I guess."
With the drone ringing in your ears, you watch them go. There's a rigid set to their shoulders, as though they're ready for a fight.
[[What's happening at the playground?->Hum7PlaygroundLater]]
[[What happened with that crash?->Hum7CrashLater]]
[[You should head home too - this is too weird.->The Hum8]] <<set $friend-->>You don't talk on the way, saving your breath for pedalling. You and $name make it to your house in record time; theirs is just a minute or two beyond.
All along the route, people were coming out of their houses, a blur to you as you passed by. You nearly hit an old couple at one point, confused, out of the sheltered accommodation block next to the shops.
This is chaos.
$name doesn't say anything; you just nod at each other as [[they ride on.->The Hum9]] <<set $friend++>>The faint sound of screaming draws your attention. One of the two teens that were sat on the swings is stood over the other one; you can't really see the one on the ground, but the one stood up is holding something in their hand.
Something shiny.
[[You should be with your family.->The Hum8]] <<set $playground to 1>>You walk your bike over to the edge of the park to see that there are three cars involved; one of them has driven into a lamp-post and the other two have gone into the first one. There's a fight going on; two men are on the ground, shouting at each other, grabbing at each other's clothes.
People are running towards the scene from nearby houses and you can see more than a few of them are cupping their hands around their ears, trying to hear. To hear over the sound, the ever-present noise.
The Hum.
[[You can't help here.->The Hum8]] <<set $crash to 1>>The ride home is strange; people are in the streets, coming out of their houses, confused and shouting. The sound is there, under your breathing, under your heartbeat, under the sound of the pedals and the wheels of your bike.
You make it in record time, [[fumbling your key into the door.->The Hum9]]You stand there in a state of shock. This isn't like the movies you watch; the smell of engine oil is in the air, cut with smoke, and the adults look like they might genuinely want to fight each other. Even if you got closer to them, you wouldn't know what to do - you don't exactly have any first aid experience.
You back away, over to $name and relative safety.
"What's going on," they ask, and you tell them about the people.
"[[It's in their heads too. It's in all our heads.->The Hum7convo]]"Back at the bench, $name is holding their hands over the top of their head, almost like they've got a headache.
"What's going on?"
You explain about the crash, and that it seems to be in your heads. [[In everyone's heads.->The Hum7convo]]Your mother sweeps you into a hug almost as soon as you are in the house. You become distantly aware, pressed into her chest, that she is sobbing slightly.
You can hear her heartbeat.
You can hear your own fractured breathing.
[[And beneath it all, the sound.->The Hum10]]That evening, you watch the news. You can't remember the last time you actively wanted to watch the news; it was always something boring in the Middle East, or the Prime Minister doing something embarrassing.
Not this time.
You, your father and your mother sit huddled in front of the TV, cups of hot chocolate clutched in hands. @@.info;[[Mum made it with real milk.->Hum Mum Check]]@@
Your father came home early; whatever was going on at work, things had fallen apart.
[[Much like on the news.->The News1]] <<set $america to 0>> <<set $northkorea to 0>> <<set $UK to 0>> <<set $europe to 0>>She'd held you for way too long after you got home, and it was a good minute or two before you could pull away enough to let her know you were ok. You'd never seen her so worried; not when your father had been in the car accident; not when her own mother had been ill; not even when you'd been sent to hospital straight from school because you'd injured your leg.
[[This was different.->The Hum10]]Whatever this is, it's happening everywhere.
You sit in silence as the news reporter, somehow composed despite the fact that they must be hearing it too, gives reports from all over the world.
<<nobr>>
<<if $europe is 1 and $america is 1 and $UK is 1 and $northkorea is 1>>[[Next, a famous scientist comes on.->The News2]]<</if>>
<<if $america is not 1>>[[In America...->Americanews]]<br><</if>>
<<if $UK is not 1>>[[In the UK...->UKnews]]<br><</if>>
<<if $northkorea is not 1>>[[In North Korea...->NorthKoreanews]]<br><</if>>
<<if $europe is not 1>>[[In Europe...->Europenews]]<br><</if>>
<<if $europe is 0 or $america is 0 or $UK is 0 or $northkorea is 0>><br>[[You stop paying attention until a famous scientist comes on..->The News2]]<</if>>
<</nobr>>In America, mass shootings have broken out; angry scenes flash up, most of it grainy CCTV footage of people suddenly reacting to the noise, escalating into an argument, drawing weapons. The footage cuts out, with the news reporter saying that the scenes that followed were @@.info;[[not suitable for broadcast->AmericaMore]]@@.
The President of the United States follows, making a speech: whoever is inflicting this on the people of the world, they plead with them to make their demands known, and promise action against any foreign power causing this.
You ask your dad what that means.
[[He shakes his head.->The News1]] <<set $america to 1>>Various leaders of European countries pop up; some sort of council has been called together, and none of the usual smiles are there. Several images come up onscreen, of riots in France, protests in Germany; somewhere in Sweden, there's a group of protesters, although all the signs are in Swedish. Angry men and women gesticulate wildly, sat at a table in an Italian cafe. In Spain, a football game comes to an abrupt stop, two players falling to their knees, the audience surging.
Police, their uniforms different in each country, [[are present everywhere.->The News1]] <<set $europe to 1>>The leader of North Korea is on. You don't know much about the place; you're pretty sure, from things $name has told you, that there's @@.info;[[a secret group->NorthKoreamore]]@@ of people there who control the whole world, but that sounds pretty made up.
[[They appear to be watching a missile launch.->The News1]] <<set $northkorea to 1>>Shots from all over the country flash up. Empty high streets, shops shut, some boarded up ahead of potential riots. The M25, mostly empty for the first time in years - according to your dad, anyway. A timelapse of the River Thames, no river traffic beyond a few unconcerned ducks.
It switches to aerial views of London show huge crowds in the street. In the bottom corner, a little 'Live' tag tells you that whatever this is, it's happening now. They have torches - not battery-powered ones, but caveman-type sticks. The reporter, maybe in a helicopter, says that they are surrounding 10 Downing Street, [[demanding answers.->The News1]] <<set $UK to 1>>You've seen this man before. He does lots of children's programmes, always about science. They're pretty interesting; sometimes your teacher puts one on instead of teaching a lesson.
"We think it's some kind of sub-aural resonance," he says, whatever that means. "It's an oscillating insistent low-frequency wave that somehow bypasses our auditory system - that's our eardrums and so on - and feeds directly into our brains."
He tries to look reassuring, but he can't answer any of the other questions.
[[The Prime Minister comes on.->The News3]]They look somehow exhausted already. Hands clenched slightly. Reading directly from notes.
The message is simple.
[[Stay in your homes.->Sleep]]Sleep that night is impossible, at first. The sound is there. It's like an itch you can't scratch. The day's events whirl in your head; the scenes at the park, <<if $america is 1>>in America, <</if>><<if $northkorea is 1>>in North Korea, <</if>><<if $europe is 1>>around Europe, <</if>><<if $UK is 1>>in your own country, <</if>>all of it. <<if $crash is 1>>The crash.<</if>> <<if $playground is 1>>Whatever had been going on at the playground.<</if>> $name's fright and worry.
[[You lay awake for a long time.->Sleep2]]Eventually, though, the sound lulls you. It's strange, you think, feeling slumber tug at you. This whole day has been like a terrible bad dream. Like a horror film.
But already you are used to hearing it.
The next day, though, [[it is still there.->FirstWeek1]] <<set $friendcheck2 to "false">><<nobr>>The sound persists the next day. School is cancelled. @@.info;[[Dad->Week1Dad]]@@ goes to work. @@.info;[[Mum->Week1Mum]]@@ stays home with you.<br><br>
<<if $friendcheck2 is "false">>You don't hear from @@.info;[[$name->friendcheck2]]@@.<br><br><</if>>
And you spend your time [[playing computer games->Week1Games]], reading, and trying to ignore it.
<</nobr>>He gave you a hug as he left for work. "I've got to go in," he said. "They rang and said they're opening as normal today. I... can't quite believe it, but there we go."
You stood by awkwardly as @@.info;[[your mother->Week1Mum]]@@ hugged him tightly. Normally you'd blush and look away, or complain at them being so obvious with their love. Today, you need to know [[what was solid and what wasn't->FirstWeek2]]."I'm fine," she says. "We just have to keep going, don't we? Always things to cook and clean, and I'm sure someone will work out what it is soon." You realise that throughout the day she's been checking to see if @@.info;[[your father->Week1Dad]]@@ is home yet.
She starts telling a story about how her own father fought in the war - a much older war - and about how they had to [[keep going->FirstWeek1]] no matter what.Much of that first full day is spent in idle play, an online game that you have been playing for the last few months. Even that isn't a break from it all. The sound is there, of course, behind the game's sound effects and music, and the in-game chat is rife with talking about it. The servers are full to bursting, and everyone is talking about the same thing.
Normally Mum would chase you outside after an hour or so. "Not good for your eyes," or something. Dad has been playing some with you, but you can tell he's only doing it to spend time with you and try to understand what you're interested in.
[[Nothing seems to help.->FirstWeek2]]The second day, your local council puts out an announcement about schools. It catches you in the middle of breakfast - the radio is on, [[more news->News2]] about the way the country is in the wake of this phenomenon.
Schools are open, and everyone able should return.
[[You wonder what 'everyone able' means.->FirstWeek3]]$name isn't there.
About a third of the class is missing. You ask around, but it mostly seems to be people who can't sleep, who can't @@.info;[[handle the sound->SchoolSound]]@@.
For you, it's like a little part of your brain has always welcomed the stimulation. It's amazing how quickly it has become background noise.
Everyone is pretty much roundly calling it The Hum, apart from Sally in Class 5 who insists it is called the WubWub.
Much of the day is spent [[watching news.->FirstWeek4]]At school, at home, passing by newspaper shops; that first week, there's no way to avoid it.
Much of the country goes back to normal over those first few days, somehow. The Prime Minister calls it 'The Great British Resilience', whatever that means. That doesn't mean there aren't isolated incidents, though.
A rash of suicides take place across the country - many of them citing the Hum. Equally, murders rise; the irritated, the already-troubled, those high on drugs or desperate, are [[driven to end lives->FirstWeek5]] - their own, or that of others.At breaktime, a group get together to talk about the people who aren't there.
"I heard a girl in Class 3 ripped her own ears off!" That's Laura McAdams, eyes wide as she talks around a lollipop stick.
"That's silly," James says. "They're not here because they can't sleep. And you know, if you don't sleep for three days straight, you go mad and die."
Sally squeals, "That's horrible!"
As James begins to describe the terrible details of death by not sleeping, a teacher breaks things up just before the bell rings for lessons.
You're not sure of the truth, but the [[things on the news->FirstWeek3]] are pretty bad.Several religious leaders come forward, most of them not part of the @@.info;[[mainstream->mainstreamreligions]]@@. Leaders of small groups, mostly, or those that rely on donations.
Those that are Christian in nature come back frequently to a quote from Revelations: "When the Lamb opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour."
How that links to the current circumstances, they don't say. They instead claim it's part of God's plan, or proof of the unworthiness of humanity, or [[any number of reasons->FirstWeek6]].Adverts almost immediately appear on TV in between the regular programming.
"Have you been injured as a result of the Hum? You could be entitled to compensation!"
"Has the Hum impacted your quality of life? This patented device promises to block out the sub-aural effects of the Hum, leaving you in blessed silence..."
[[None of those devices work.->FirstWeek7]]A new group starts making headlines. The Holy Order of God's Sound, perhaps poorly-conceived considering their initials are HOGS. They organise some of the protests - protesting what, it doesn't seem to matter. They turn up; they hum, trying to match the sound of The Hum, and then they melt away again.
Some of the other kids in the playground think it's fun to play Hummers, as they call it. They run around aggressively humming at people they don't like. It comes to a public end when Jemima Turks is found locked in a toilet cubicle having an asthma attack, people stood outside humming and giggling.
Privately, it continues. You're lucky that you're not unpopular enough to be bullied; you know it's going on, but what can you do to stop it? You're one child.
$name comes back [[after three days.->FirstWeek8]]$name looks exhausted.
"I haven't been able to sleep. School said I could have a couple of days off. And dad..." They shake their head. "He went... away."
"[[Are you ok, though->FirstWeekConvoOk]]?"
"[[Away where->FirstWeekConvoWhere]]?"
[[Stay silent - what would you say, anyway->FirstWeekConvoSilent]]?You watch as $name fumbles for words, or for something to fill the empty space. The space isn't really empty any more, of course. In a way, that should be comforting - something to fill the awkward social space.
After a moment or two, $name gives up and asks about what [[they've missed at school->FirstWeek9]]. <<set $friend-->>"Just... out of the house. Mum tried to stop him, but he hasn't come home. Isn't answering calls, isn't doing anything. He didn't leave a note or anything."
Tears sparkle in $name's eyes and for the first time, that defensive exterior shows cracks. For a moment, you think about whether you should [[offer them a hug->FirstWeekConvoHug]], maybe [[share your breaktime sweets with them->FirstWeekConvoShare]] to take their mind off it, or maybe [[tease them, in that joking way you sometimes do->FirstWeekConvoBuck]], but all that feels awkward and [[leaving them alone is easier->FirstWeekConvoSilent]].Eventually, just through sheer need, old habits come back. Your parents let you out in the evening again. The hot weather has given way to occasional showers, and the air is crisp. The ice cream van once again begins his daily rounds.
Scientists have determined, somehow, that animals can't hear the Hum. You can hear the birds nesting, see the occasional squirrel or fox scampering away. They seem unworried.
[[Time passes.->First Year1]]It starts as a sort of hand-on-shoulder, but that's too awkward. Mum always told you that sometimes people just need comforting, and you remember how you desperately needed something more solid that first evening.
The hug is brief but real.
$name is called in to see the headteacher shortly afterwards, and comes out looking a bit more like their normal self.
[[The world slowly moves on->FirstWeek9]]. <<set $friend++>><<set $friend++>>You try to kid $name around a bit, to take their mind off it.
"This isn't funny," they snap, and you see those threatened tears start to roll down their cheeks. "I don't even know if he's..."
You bite your lip. You misjudged this, and you start to stammer out an apology, but a teacher interrupts. The headteacher wants to see $name in their office.
When they come back, $name doesn't look at you. They do eventually accept your apology, via a scrunched-up letter, but [[things aren't quite the same for a while->FirstWeek9]]. <<set $friend-->>As the weeks turn into months, the Hum does not go away. Life reasserts itself with surprisingly very few changes. Even those who were unable to sleep at first have adjusted.
Your birthday comes and goes, a party at a local fast food place. @@.info;[[Mum->BirthdayMum]]@@ made a cake. @@.info;[[Dad->BirthdayDad]]@@ had to work, but slipped you some cash before he left. $name was there, of course; <<if $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>they brought a small gift, and left early.<</if>><<if $friend is 2 or $friend is 3 or $friend is 4 or $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>they brought a gift of a new game, and stayed on into the evening to play with you.<</if>>
[[Trends begin to emerge->First Year2]].You check in on her a bit more closely these days. Your grandfather - her father - passed away a month ago. He was old; it wasn't unexpected, but still upsetting of course.
The funeral was an odd one; the church choir sang, or tried to. It was almost two months in, but not everything had settled yet. They just couldn't harmonise; too many of the singers picked up on the note of the Hum, leading them off track.
Your mother had powered through, the way she always did; supported by @@.info;[[your father->BirthdayDad]]@@, she had put on a small wake for Grandad's few remaining friends, and thrown herself into sorting out the estate, the house, stuff that she didn't really involve you in.
You make sure that she always has a cup of tea whenever you boil the kettle, and [[keep an eye on her->First Year1]].His work had improved, if anything; the company had laid a few people off due to medical issues, some to do with the Hum, others just regular. He'd been given a promotion, and although it meant more work and more responsibility, there was a little more money in the house now. He took @@.info;[[your mother->BirthdayMum]]@@ out to celebrate when he got the promotion, and you kept yourself busy all evening.
You use the nice teabags now, not the cheapest. [[It's the little things->First Year1]].One of the strangest things to come about was the impact on the world of music. Drowning out the Hum was impossible; it just sat there, beneath everything. But it clashed horribly with lots of other notes.
The solution was apparently an easy one for the music industry. Music based around the same note began to come out - music that sounded good with the Hum. Sometimes it used the droning noise as a bass note; sometimes it harmonised to create beautiful sounds that you listened to as often as possible.
Already, 'Now That's What I Call The Sound Of The Hum' had come out, an album of the most popular recent music. [[It was pretty good->First Year3]].The impact on the human race was unmistakable. Around ten percent of the population suffered from a new syndrome called 'Subauditory Avoidance Condition'. SAC sufferers ranged from those who simply found it uncomfortable to hear the Hum to those for whom life was unbearable.
The former could be treated with painkillers and other experimental drugs.
The latter often chose to take matters into their own hands.
[[But life carried on for most->First Year4]].The British Government holds an election. A party that has adopted the Hum as its mascot does pretty well - better than the traditional third place party. There is apparently a tense moment where they could be considered 'Kingmakers', although you're pretty sure that the King isn't elected this way. Dad explains that if they have enough of the vote, they can team up with another party and form a government.
It doesn't mean much to you; you're still young enough that governance is pretty nebulous. You remember your parents being [[concerned about it->First Year6]], though.You pass your exams and go on to college. Psychology seemed like a good pick for further studies; a lot had happened with how humans see the world, after all. It's a toss-up between that and @@.info;[[Biology]]@@.
$name went to a college in a neighbouring town. You try to keep close contact with them, but you're on different schedules now and it's getting harder. Their dad never came home, and the mystery about where he went persists.
[[College work eclipses everything for a while->University1]].Children conceived immediately after the start of the phenomenon do not perceive the Hum. Not because they don't hear it - they do, confirmed through the use of MRI machines and experimentation. It's simply such a basic part of their life that their brains ignore it. Like the sensation of your blood rushing through your veins, or the sight of your own nose out of the corner of your eye - the brain simply edits it out.
This presents a few problems for abortion rights activists, of course, with 'The Hum Begins At Conception' fighting with 'Life Begins At Birth'. The debate rages back and forth, but no new laws are enacted based on it. It's not something you need to worry about [[just yet, perhaps->College]].You pass, and head to university. An exciting new chapter of your life opens up: voting, driving, new friends, relationships perhaps. You're going to carry on studying @@.info;[[Psychology->UniLecturer]]@@; maybe there's a job in it for you. And it turns out $name is going to the same uni, having passed their own exams.
They're studying Film Studies, which [[sounds awesome->University2]]. <<set $degree to "false">>You pick up your friendship with $name as though it hasn't been interrupted.
<<if $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>You approach them and try to clear the air a bit. Things hadn't been left in a great way, and you drifting apart had been a mutual thing. You're a bit older now, though, and you take them out and buy them a coffee. It's not exactly like old times; things are a bit stilted, and they don't stay out long.<</if>><<if $friend is 2 or $friend is 3 or $friend is 4 or $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>You invite them out for a coffee, expecting to apologise for your friendship drifting apart; instead, you find them apologising first, almost as though the pair of you hadn't meant it. It's like old times again almost immediately, albeit with all the trappings of a grown-up social life.<</if>>
[[You see them as regularly as you can->University2partner]].You'll never forget your first day on the course. The Chief Lecturer was a bristly old man with a moustache that looks like it was forged in iron. He had SAC, the Hum syndrome, and chose to deal with it by drinking heavily. This meant that his lectures were hit-and-miss; some started drunk, some hungover, @@.info;[[some perfectly fine->Fine]]@@. He was legendary, and you wouldn't have exchanged him for the world.
[[Not for anything->University1]].He was also incredibly intelligent and insightful, and spoke freely about the phenomenon. "The human mind," he said, "is a truly elastic thing. There are very few limits to what a person can come to understand, to allow for, to encompass. One only has to look at the way conspiracy theories and propaganda gain traction to understand that."
[[You learned a lot from him->UniLecturer]].<<set $seekerslevel to 0>>One night, late into your first year, $name wakes you up by calling your phone. You surface from slumber with difficulty; the bed is cosy, the warm form of $partner creating a comfortable space which you are unwilling to leave.
"It's my dad," they say, when you finally get to the phone. "He's here. @@.info;[[He's found me somehow.->Friend'sDad]]@@"
You stutter out a couple of questions but $name [[keeps talking->University4]]. Several likely reasons for the Hum are taken out by humanity, chewed over, and ultimately discarded. Some suggest it's a natural result of so many mining and drilling operations - fracking is a newly-widespread procedure, for example. They say that resonance could be building up in the Earth. Greenpeace adopts this as a rallying cry and successfully gets several bills through Parliament in the years that follow.
Others suggest that it's all in the head, citing mass hysteria. Still more suppose it could be tinnitus, brought on by a sound so loud that everyone heard it but too loud for the human brain to register.
One study suggests something called Spontaneous Otoacoustic Emissions, sounds that all humans make but which are generally ignored by the brain naturally.
And of course, there are the people who say it's aliens, or a secret government project.
Privately, you think they're all wrong, but it's hard to [[put your finger on what it could really be->First Year5]].It's chilly this early in the morning; the sun won't be up for another few hours and dew graces everything with a sparkle.
When you reach $name's apartment, it smells unpleasantly of sweat. You can hear the murmuring of someone - presumably their father - in the background. It's a drone, much like the Hum; you have only a moment to consider the coincidence before $name [[ushers you in->The Truth2]]. <<set $friend++>>There's a long silence from $name, during which you can hear that whoever is in the background keeps talking, and then $name says "Sure. Don't worry, I've got this. Sorry again it's so late."
They hang up, leaving you alone in the relative quiet.
$partner wakes up a little. "What was that?"
You explain briefly.
$partner frowns. "If it's important enough for them to ring in the middle of the night, maybe you should go."
"[[Perhaps you're right.->TheTruth1]]"
"[[They said they'd handle it.->TheTruthNo2]]""He says not to," $name says, worry plain in their voice. "I really don't know what to do. It's my dad, my freaking dad..."
You blink sleep out of your eyes and try to focus on the conversation.
"Look," $name says, "It's late. Sorry to have called you - this isn't your problem. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"
"[[Wait - I'll come over.->TheTruth1]]"
"[[If you're ok with it, sure.->TheTruthNo]]"<<nobr>><<set $seekers to "false">><<if $friend is 2 or $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>$name isn't in classes the next day. You don't share any with them - you do very different courses - but you have mutual friends.<br><br>
After a couple of days, you check up on them, but they don't answer their door.<br><br>
The university registrar confirms, the following week, that $name has left their course, [[citing family issues->friendvanish]].<</if>><<if $friend is 3 or $friend is 4 or $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>$name isn't in classes the next day. You don't share any with them - you do very different courses - but you have mutual friends.<br><br>
They arrive at your door, bedraggled and sweaty, [[late that night.->FriendSavedno1]]<</if>><</nobr>>"Thanks for coming," they say. Their father is sat in the small front room of the apartment they share with a couple of other people, rocking gently on a small sofa. His hands are clasped in front of him and the constant stream of words is almost gentle, a susurration.
"He just kind of knocked on the door. I have no idea how he found me," $name says, "or where he's been. It's, what, eight years? Nine?"
"[[What sort of things is he saying?->The Truth3]]"
"[[You should call the police, maybe, or the hospital.->The Truth2Police]]"$name holds your gaze, their face pale, and you see that their hands are shaking slightly from stress or excitement.
"He says he knows [[the truth->The Truth4]]," $name says quietly. "About the Hum."$name shakes their head. "I can't do that. I don't know where he's been but he needs my help. Watch."
$name goes over to their father and, as soon as they are in touching distance, the man grabs at their sleeve, staring into their face, hoarsely whispering.
"The truth," he says. "I know [[the truth->The Truth4]]. About the Hum."He becomes more animated, getting up, pacing around the cramped front room. He doesn't seem bothered by the empty pizza boxes lying around, or the discarded end of a joint poorly hidden behind a dying pot plant.
"I went to ground as soon as it started," he says, not even looking at you. "They'd find me. There was a weapon @@.info;[[during the war->The TruthMiddleEast]]@@ - something black box, black ops, something the brains were working on."
$name shares a worried glance with you.
"I saw people screaming, clawing at their heads. These two guys, they'd brought something in a briefcase. They opened it up, pressed a button, and there were just people screaming, further down the hill." He finally meets your eyes, and his are bloodshot but weirdly calm, despite the intensity of his voice. "They died. And [[they're going to do it again->The Truth5]]."You think back to the war. It was when you were young; a war in the Middle East, over land, oil, gold and greed. Things might have escalated, but the arrival of the Hum put paid to that - after a period of increased tension, most countries turned inwards to take care of their own populace.
[[He goes on talking->The Truth4]].You realise you don't even know this man's name. He's always been '$name's dad'. You quietly ask $name, but not quietly enough.
"George," he mutters. "I'm George. You. I remember you. You played with $name, back when this all started. When you were kids." He locks eyes with you again, intense. "You're one of the lucky ones. Me, $name, not so much. We got it bad. I haven't had a good night's sleep since, oh..." he trails off.
$name puts a hand on his shoulder. "Dad?"
"But it's all going to [[change->The Truth6]]," George says."The Silent Seekers, they've got research. Hidden research, not even government stuff. They've got tanks, tanks where you can go and not hear it. Not hear it."
He pulls out @@.info;[[a crumpled leaflet->Leaflet]]@@ and thrusts it at $name. "I just need a place to sleep for a couple of days. $name, I came to help you, to warn you, but I just need to sleep."
You draw back as $name leads George into the bedroom. It's not long before you're both sat over a drink, $name's [[hand shaking slightly->The Truth7]].You unfold the leaflet. It's some sort of recruitment or information leaflet for a group called the Silent Seekers. You browse through; it seems like they have a meeting scheduled in town for tomorrow night. They're not shy about what they're about; much the same things that George was saying are repeated here. They charge a hefty membership fee; not completely out of the question for you, but expensive nonetheless. Not something you could explore just on a whim.
[[You hand it back->The Truth6]]."This is what Dad has been doing all these years?" $name shakes their head as they put the leaflet down. "He's wearing clothes out of a charity shop, or a bin. I can't believe he's been able to pay the fees this leaflet talks about. And... why not come home?"
$name puts their drink down and taps the leaflet. "I'm going to go to this meeting with him tomorrow. To these Silent Seekers. If it's something deranged, I'll try to call Mum, get her to help me with... whatever's wrong with Dad. If it's legit... maybe the same, but perhaps it can @@.info;[[get me the same help.->Friendcheck2]]@@"
They look at you. "Thanks for coming over tonight. I know this is crazy. I'll let you know how this thing goes tomorrow. Cover for me if anyone asks, ok?"
"[[I'm coming with you.->The TruthYes]]"
"[[I will. Be careful, yeah?->The TruthMiddle]]"
"[[He needs help. Maybe you both do.->The TruthSuperNo]]"You properly look at $name, for the first time in a while. It's hard to tell, given that they've grown older - a little less chubby in the face, a lot taller - but now that you think about it, they've often been pale, often had dark circles around their eyes. They nod, and you realise you're staring.
"I still have trouble sleeping, if that's what you're wondering," they say. "Not as bad as Dad, I guess, but... [[yeah.->The Truth7]]"<<set $friend++>>$name pauses halfway through draining their glass. "You sure?"
You nod, and they quickly copy down the details off the leaflet. You're going to meet them - $name and George - at an address down by the river, 8pm tomorrow evening.
"I probably won't be in classes tomorrow," $name says. "Don't worry about me - I'll see you tomorrow evening."
You head off, the piece of paper with the address and time clutched in your hand. [[Bed is calling->SilentSeekers1]].<<set $friend++>>$name nods and swigs back the end of their drink. "You too. I'll keep you posted, I guess."
You finish your own glass and take the cue to leave. [[Bed is calling->TheTruthNo3]]. <<set $seekers to "false">>$name stares at you for a moment, and realisation hits you. That's not quite what you meant - help with sleep, maybe, help with their father - but the words are out there.<<set $seekers to "false">>
"You think I'm crazy too, huh,", $name snarls. <<if $friend is 2 or $friend is 3 or $friend is 4 or $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>"After everything; I thought you were my friend."<</if>><<if $friend is -2 or $friend is -1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is 1>>"I shouldn't be surprised. You never treated me right, even when we were kids."<</if>> They swig back the last of their drink. "I'm going to that meeting, and I'm going to help Dad. Go home. [[Guess I'll see you around.->TheTruthNo2]]"This one--->
has a friend variable amount that needs testing<<nobr>><<if $friend is 2 or $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>$name isn't in classes the next day. You don't share any with them - you do very different courses - but you have mutual friends.<br><br>
<<if $friendno is "true">> You consider calling the police, considering where you saw them go, but one of your friends says they've seen them around. They're not wherever your wildest worries put them - tied up in some warehouse, perhaps, or worse.<br><br><</if>>
After a couple of days, you check up on them, but they don't answer their door.<br><br>
The university registrar confirms, the following week, that $name has left their course, [[citing family issues->friendvanish]].<</if>><<if $friend is 3 or $friend is 4 or $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>$name isn't in classes the next day. You don't share any with them - you do very different courses - but you have mutual friends.<br><br>
<<if $friendno is "true">> You consider calling the police, considering where you saw them go, but one of your friends says they've seen them around. They're not wherever your wildest worries put them - tied up in some warehouse, perhaps, or worse.<br><br><</if>>
They arrive at your door, bedraggled and sweaty, [[late that night.->FriendSaved1]]<</if>><</nobr>>You don't think you will ever see $name again. <<set $saved to "false">>
[[But time marches on->Years pass]].<<set $degree to "true">>Study into the Hum continues, without much progress. Several things are ruled out. But it's old news now; there are new things. New wars. New viruses. New discoveries. For most, it becomes what it is - background noise.
<<nobr>>You pass your degree and consider studying for a doctorate. Going travelling is also an option. <<if $saved is "true">>$name passes their degree but heads into advertising. It's a burgeoning market these days - always some new bandwagon to jump onto.<br><br><</if>>
<<if $partnercult is "true">>$partner is an on-again, off-again part of your life, until finally you part ways. "Things just got too strange at Uni," they say. You don't stay in touch, and it's by mutual agreement.<<set $relationship to "false">><br><br>
[[Years pass->Years2]].
<</if>>
<<if $partnercult is "false">>Despite moving on from university, you and $partner continue to see each other. Eventually, you both come to realise that something needs to change; your relationship is either [[something worth pursuing->YearsPartner1]] or [[something that has run its course->YearsPartnerEnd]].<</if>><</nobr>>You go into education back in your home town, eventually; child psychology has always been an underfunded and understaffed sector of study, and you fit right in.
It's through your work in schools that you come across [[the Clarke family->clarkes1]].Fewer and fewer people observe Hum Day, that day in late summer this all started. It's meaningless for the young, and hated by the old, and those who still suffer from SAC. Statistically, there are fewer of those too these days. Science hails this as a success, despite it being inevitable as the population ages.
You keep your eyes open for any signs of the mysterious Silent Seekers, but never [[see anything about them->Years 4]].<<nobr>>Until one day, you do.<br><br>
<<if $saved is "false">>'Terrorist plot foiled,' the headline runs. There's a picture - a mugshot. It's $name, no doubt about it. Older - mid-forties, same as you - thinner, more intense-looking, staring right into the camera.<br><br>
You were sat in a cafe, enjoying a morning coffee. Now, it's going cold on the table [[as you read->Years5]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true">>'Terrorist plot foiled,' the headline runs. There's a picture - a mugshot. No-one you recognise, but $name calls you, voice shaking. "She was there. She was the one Dad was talking to." $name is silent for a moment, then murmurs, "Things could have gone so horribly wrong."<br><br>
You talk it back and forth for a few minutes before [[going back to the article->Years5]].<</if>><</nobr>>'A plot by the Silent Seekers, an emergent terrorist organisation,' the article continues, 'has been foiled by members of the British Secret Service. Commissioner Goldwin of the Met Office confirmed this morning that elements of the organisation, who believe that the phenomenon known as the Hum is a government-led conspiracy, were stopped in their attempt to set off a dirty bomb in the London Underground.'
The article goes on, but your eyes gently glaze over, staring into those eyes in the mugshot. Those eyes, hollow, bloodshot, but intense, so much like $name's father's [[that night->Years6]].<<nobr>>The rest of the article isn't very forthcoming, and you watch the case with interest over the ensuing weeks. Your work keeps you busy, but your mind occasionally drifts back to it.<br><br>
<<if $saved is "false">>It's hard to match up $name with the person on the front page of that newspaper. Sometimes, lying awake at night, you think about whether you could have helped more.<br><br>
[[Time has moved on, though->Years7]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true">>$name continues to be a part of your life. Personal tragedy leaks into their life once more. Their partner leaves them, dissolving their marriage - irreconcilable differences, it appears, although you suspect that the constantly-audible reminder of how bad things are for $name [[doesn't help->Years6a]].<</if>><</nobr>>Years pass. Tensions rise and fall between nations, but for prosaic reasons. Space is, if not conquered, partially tamed; bases on the Moon, a replacement for the International Space Station. The Hum exists out there too, of course. Astronaut Samantha Glennison, describes it as "an old friend, keeping me company in the times we're out of contact with Earth."
[[You settle in to older age->Years8]].And one day, [[just like that...->Years9]][[Silence->Chaos2]].Instant, unbridled chaos.
For a moment, you think you've suddenly gone deaf, but then [[the screaming->Chaos5]] starts around you.<<nobr>><<if $prison is "true">>The wailing screams of the prison population, of the guards, visitors, oscillate up to fill the space where silence now reigned.<br><br>
Unbeknownst to you, around the word, [[things crumble->Chaos6]].
<<else>>Children, young people, adults, emitting this wailing scream, oscillating up to fill the space where the silence now reigned.<br><br>
Unbeknownst to you, around the world, [[things crumble->Chaos6]].<</if>><</nobr>>Planes suddenly drop out of the sky as pilots lose their minds mid-flight, their passengers mostly unaware as they, too, try to process a world of silence.
Thousands simply grab at the nearest implement and start beating their own ears, their heads, with it.
Many thousands more simply die, whether from their own hand, from cardiac arrest, or [[some other unexplainable cause->Chaos7]].Cars slam into each other at high speed on motorways all over the world, causing pile-ups that will burn for days.
For the youngest, it is worst. They have never known a world without their constant companion. The emptiness, the sounds of their own existence, are too much.
And for you, it is enough to stagger you. To drive you to your knees. Like having the blindfold taken off after a long time, blinking in the light.
[[The light of a world changed forever->Postscript]].<<if $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>You notice that $name is spending time with other people, particularly older people. You don't get invited round to theirs, and in response you find new places to ride your bike.
"These things happen," mum tells you. "Friendships come and go, and it takes two to make it work."
You wonder if you could have made it work more, and if [[that's really it for your friendship->First Year7]].<</if>><<if $friend is 2 or $friend is 3 or $friend is 4 or $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>You still see $name regularly, although they're more withdrawn, more prone to spending time alone or with older kids.
You still get out and ride around the locality, although there's a lot less ice-cream van chasing and a lot more sitting on the swings trying to work out [[what happened this year->First Year7]].<</if>>After the initial shock and confusion of the cessation died down, there was a period of readjustment. The end had been oddly sharper than the beginning, and adapting to the lack of something was harder than [[adapting to its presence->Postscript2]].You settle into a life marred by what could have been, and saved by what wasn't. Your life enters a phase of slower, more deliberate choices, and of caring for yourself and for $name.
And in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Seeker">><<set $saved ="true">><<set $partnercult to "true">>An entire field of science closed down in an instant. There weren't many scientists left studying the Hum, not after all this time, but there were enough that it caused a ripple in the scientific community.
'The young' is an odd phrase to apply; there were fifty-year-olds walking around who had never known a world without the Hum, and even some of those in their sixties had been young enough to adapt easily. Many subscribe to feelings of loss, of emptiness. [[Grief->Postscript2a]].<<nobr>>The various cults and religious movements fractured, imploded, or went on to other fascinations. The Silent Seekers, what was left of them, simply melted away into society.<br><br>
<<if $relationship is "true">>$partner came out of semi-retirement to make several pieces titled 'The World Suffused By Silence'. They caused their own ripples in the art world, and one critic cited them as '$partner's best work, nuanced and redolent with emotion.' You celebrate this with them quietly on a holiday to a high-class hotel in Edinburgh.<br><br><</if>><<if $relationship is "false">>You've kept vaguely aware of $partner's work over the years. They're something big in the art world now. You send them a Christmas card one year, but hear nothing back.<br><br><</if>>
<<if $adultseeker is "false">>The world of music went through its own cataclysm. Songs from that era, from the last fifty years, all sounded oddly empty, missing the bass throb that had been their backbone. There was hope, though. Old classics were rediscovered, re-enjoyed by a new generation now that their disharmonies were no longer [[at odds with life->Postscript4]].<</if>><<if $adultseeker is "true">>The world of music went through its own cataclysm. Songs from that era, from the last fifty years, all sounded oddly empty, missing the bass throb that had been their backbone. There was hope, though. Old classics were rediscovered, re-enjoyed by a new generation now that their disharmonies were no longer [[at odds with life->Postscript4Adult]].<</if>><<if $adultseeker is "Charlie">>The world of music went through its own cataclysm. Songs from that era, from the last fifty years, all sounded oddly empty, missing the bass throb that had been their backbone. There was hope, though. Old classics were rediscovered, re-enjoyed by a new generation now that their disharmonies were no longer [[at odds with life->Postscript4AdultCharlie]].<</if>><</nobr>>With those from the pre-Hum days too old to seize back the reins of power, the world becomes a sharper, spikier place for a long time. Tempers flare easily, both on a micro and macro scale.
<<if $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>[[And you...->And you...friendbest]]<</if>><<if $friend is 4 or $friend is 3 or $friend is 2 or $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>[[And you...]]<</if>><<nobr>><<if $prison is "true">>
You watch all this from within prison walls, waiting out your time. When you are released, it is into the world that you helped craft. You have your health, although many years have passed. You were lucky - the Hum hadn't burrowed so deeply into your psyche that its tendrils could destroy you, as so many others had died. $name is out too - their release was finalised over six months ago.<br><br>
Mother Meek is out there somewhere, replete on her success of ending the threat the Hum represented, and she would need help in [[this new world->Silent Seeker Bad Ending]].<</if>>
<<if $prison is "false">>You watch all this with $name. You still have your health, albeit not the full career that once you might have hoped for. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your own experience as to so many others. And $name sleeps peacefully every night now. Things could have gone so horribly wrong for you, [[but for one choice->Silent Seeker Good Ending]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "false" and $relationship is "false">>You still have your health. Your retirement. You go to a local cafe, from time to time, just to reminisce to yourself. You think of $name often, of what might have been. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->Retired alone]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "false" and $relationship is "true" and $baby is "true">>You still have your health. Your retirement, comfortable with $partner. Your $gender. In the quiet times, when it's just you and $partner in between visits from friends, family, grandchildren, you think of $name, of what might have been. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->Retired with partner and baby no friend]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "false" and $relationship is "true" and $baby is "false">>You still have your health. Your retirement, comfortable with $partner. In the quiet times, when it's just you and $partner, you share a drink and think of $name, of that strange part of your lives - of everyone's life. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->Retired with partner no baby no friend]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true" and $relationship is "false">>You still have your health. Your retirement. And you find that you can spend time with $name, reminiscing over the defining event of your life over a drink. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->Retired with Friend Regular]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true" and $relationship is "true" and $baby is "true">>You still have your health. Your retirement. All things considered, life has been good to you; you have your relationship with $partner, your $gender and, more recently, grandchildren. <br><br>
$name's friendship is one that has endured, but in a comfortable way; you see them from time to time, and keep up with their news. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->you, partner, friend, baby regular]]<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true" and $relationship is "true" and $baby is "false">>You still have your health. Your retirement. All things considered, life has been good to you; you have your relationship with $partner, the one solid thing in your life that has kept you going. <br><br>
$name's friendship is one that has endured, but in a comfortable way; you see them from time to time, and keep up with their news. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->you, partner, friend, no baby regular]]<</if>>
<</nobr>>You are lucky, in many ways. You and $name share a house; there's no romance between you, not exactly. It's a practical arrangement, and you are comfortable with each other. You are what you need to be for each other.
And in your unguarded moments, both of you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The True Friend">>There are things to do. You explore other publication options, now that a whole new field of psychology has opened up. The post-Hum world is one of opportunity, for both young and old. You worried that you might be lonely in your older years, but there is more than enough to keep you busy.
And in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Solitary">>You are old, but wily. You have trained for this, and making contact with $name will only be the first step.
You will find Mother, and you will help end the oppression - this new oppression, a new paradigm of silence.
And in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Cultist">><<set $saved ="false">><<set $relationship to "false">><<set $partnercult to "true">>You still find time to go fishing with $name. It is quiet on the lakesides and canals - $name likes it better that way for many reasons. You have plenty to do in your own right; a whole new field of psychology has opened up. The post-Hum world is one of opportunity, for both young and old, and you are glad to have $name to discuss things with.
And in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Friend">><center><h1>The Hum</h1>by Steve Cook
Images by Sue Cook
[[Summary]]</center><center><h1>The Hum</h1>by Steve Cook
Audio is present throughout the story and it is recommended to use headphones at a comfortable listening volume.
Please click here to use <<link "this sound sample">><<audio 'audio' play>>this sound sample<</link>> to adjust your volume.
Some links <span style="color: blue;">advance the story</span> while others <span style="color: orange;">provide more information</span>.
This game contains no jump scares.
[[Begin->Intro1]]</center><<set $seekerslevel to 1>><<set $mothermeek to 0>>The next day is interminable, little in your mind except for your rendezvous with $name and their dad, George. Even $partner can't take your mind off it, and they seem a little put-out that you're giving up on your regular date night with them to do... whatever this is.
You're early, such is your anxiety and wish to have it over with.
"I'm glad you're here," $name says. George has already gone up to the door; it's a fairly crummy-looking @@.info;[[warehouse->Warehouse description]]@@, no markings on the door other than a faded 'Staff only'. You shift uncomfortably - this is a nasty part of town to spend too long in.
George has already knocked on the door, and [[it cracks open->SilentSeekers2]]. <<set $seekers to "true">><<set $mothermeek to 0>>You let them in and make them a cup of tea while they shakily explain.
"It was... I didn't know what to do. They were saying all these things - about how the government has been controlling the Hum, and about how it's tapping into a frequency that keeps us controlled. Suppressed." $name shudders. "The people there, they all believed it. Dad believes it."
They hold their cup in both hands, sipping from it. "I... I want to support him, but... you were right to tell me to be careful. All his money's gone to them - he wants to be in one of their Silence Pods, they call them. A place without the Hum."
They finally stand up. "I'm calling Mum. [[This is way too much for me.->FriendSaved2]]"You stay with $name while they make the call, a difficult one, and then another to the police.
$name stays the night at your place. You don't do much except talk and drink endless cups of tea, but it's something. When the sun rises, they head for their own apartment, a little unsteady.
They take a week off, and [[return to their studies->FriendSaved3]].<<nobr>>After a while, you ask about George.<br><br>
"He's in a place where they can help him," $name says. "It's like... cult deprogramming, I guess, although not that extreme. He's basically been living homeless, feral, for years. We had no idea, and no way to trace him. Whatever training he had in the army seems to have kicked in and just stolen him away."<br><br>
They put a hand on your shoulder. "I don't think I ever said thanks, by the way. <<if $friend is 4 or $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>I've always been able to rely on you for good advice. And it was my problem to sort, the whole Silent Seekers thing. But thank you."<br><br>
[[Things settle down after that.->Years pass]].<</if>><<if $friend is 3 or $friend is 2 or $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>We've had our ups and downs, and the whole... cult thing, that was my problem to sort. Thanks. I mean it."<br><br>
[[Things settle down after that.->Years pass]]<</if>> <<set $saved = "true">><</nobr>>That year, you and $name both age out of your school, going instead to secondary schools.
You go to different schools. Not on purpose; just that they spoke to you in different ways.
You make new friends, and swear they won't be instead of $name, but your time spent with them gets less and less. An occasional cinema trip. A late night meet up so that they can get out of the house for a bit, away from their mother. Things are unsettled, always, and although they don't say anything, the empty place at the dinner table where their dad used to sit weighs heavily.
[[One year turns into several->College]].About twenty minutes on foot away from your apartment, this place is well off the beaten path. Normally the river front would be busy with canal boats making the transit between canal systems, and the few transport ships that still ply their way around the pleasure cruisers - during the day, that is. Now, there's just the sound of the water lapping up against the pier, and the orange light spilling out from the dirty plastic skylights.
Somewhere, a siren pierces the night, wailing [[away into the distance->SilentSeekers1]].Someone is silhouetted in the doorway, their features difficult to see thanks to the light behind them.
"Why are you here?
George doesn't respond. You open your mouth to say something, and the sound of you moving your lips apparently gives away your intent. George's hand snaps up, and you stay silent. After a moment, the figure in the doorway nods.
"You are here for the same reason we all are. Come, enter in silence."
George goes right in, and after glancing sidelong at you, $name follows their father.
[[Go in->SilentSeekers3]].
[[Try to stop your friend->SilentSeekersStop]].
[[This is too weird - and your partner is waiting for you->SilentSeekersNo]].Inside, the warehouse is warm and almost comfortable. Somewhere, a diffuser is releasing pleasant, soothing smells that almost hide the smell of people. Drapes have been put up to make the place soft, and there are futon-style beds on the floor, many with people laying on them. Candles are lit all over the place, although closer inspection reveals that many of them are imitation flickering LEDs.
There are a lot of people here, at least fifty. A small stage is set up towards one end and a group of people are nearby, talking in hushed tones.
George immediately turns and smiles serenely. "Can you hear? They have dampening equipment in the walls."
You detect no change in [[the background noise->SilentSeekers4]].$name turns back at your words.
"I need to find out what's going on," they say. "And help Dad if I can. He's... he needs something. My help."
They look into the warm glow inside the warehouse. "If you don't want to come, I'll understand. I won't hold it against you - you've done enough. But I'm going in."
"[[Not alone, you're not.->SilentSeekers3]]"
"[[Just... be careful, ok?->SilentSeekersStop2]]"$name looks back just as they enter. "You coming?"
You shake your head and tell them how you feel - this is too weird. $partner is waiting for you, and you're not even sure what 'this' is.
Several emotions pass over $name's face in a heartbeat - anger, sadness, resolution. "Fine," they say. "I shouldn't have asked you anyway. This isn't your mess."
Before you can say anything back, [[they're gone->SilentSeekersNo2]]. <<set $friendno to "true">>$name nods. "I will. I'll let you know what happens."
The door closes behind them, and you hurry home. A light rain begins to fall as you get there, and you spend an uneasy night listening to the twin sounds of the Hum and the pattering of raindrops against you window, [[thinking about everything->TheTruthNo3]]. <<set $friendno to "true">>The door closes behind them, and you hurry home. A light rain begins to fall as you get there, and you spend an uneasy night listening to the twin sounds of the Hum and the pattering of raindrops against you window, [[thinking about everything->TheTruthNo3]]."I sleep at these meetings, in these shelters, some nights," he goes on, speaking in hushed tones. "Several of us do. It's not cheap, but it's worth it for @@.info;[[those of us who can't stand it.->people1]]@@"
$name trails after George. "Dad," they murmur, "we've got SAC. Or, you have. The doctors, they've said that people who can't handle it, there are therapies. Things you can do-"
"Don't mention that here," George hisses. "That's some government rubbish, made up to keep those @@.info;[[sensitives->Sensitives]]@@ quiet."
He sits down and gestures to nearby bedrolls. "Take a seat. Mother Meek will address us soon."
$name sits down, leaving space for you to [[sit next to them->SilentSeekers5]].George nods. "Sure. Like, you've seen Star Wars, right? People who can sense the Force. We're like that; people who can sense this effect, this Hum. I always knew I was being prepped for something special - they gave us special training in the army, y'know. But if I'd have known it was for this..." He shook his head.
"[[Pretty crazy, if you think about it.->SilentSeekers4]]"You look around, evaluating the people in the room. After what George has said, you half expect them to be mostly the homeless, but it's a diverse group of people. You're not the youngest, either; a couple of children are sleepily sitting on the floor, talking quietly.
There's a broad spectrum of humanity in attendance, with no strong tendencies - almost to the point where it seems deliberate, chosen.
You blink a couple of times. All this talk of conspiracies is starting to [[get into your head->SilentSeekers4]].<<set $mothermeek to 1>>A woman emerges from the group beside the stage, coming up to the middle. She is dressed in a simple white dress, or maybe a loose robe.
"Brothers. Sisters. All who come seeking silence. Welcome."
She doesn't speak loudly, but her words carry oddly in the space. All other conversation stills. Some of those laying down are either asleep or do not raise their heads, but most others turn in her direction.
"I see some new faces here this evening. More of the curious; this is [[fine, and natural.->SilentSeekers6]]""First, please avail yourselves of the beds, those that find rest difficult. This place is open to all, once donation is made. Brother Federico will come around shortly to accept donation." Mother Meek gestures to a wide-set man in a similar robe, but black.
"For now, let us talk of [[the way of the world.->SilentSeekers7]]""Like a child with a pacifier in its mouth, they believe that we can be kept quiet. Monotony in anything breeds complacency; this tone is monotony personified, made tangible, if not touchable. Not yet." Mother Meek smiles at that, and you wonder what she means.
"Today, we gather as one, knowing this unceasing hum, this thing that we refuse to accept is a mere coincidence of this Age of Mankind."
Mother Meek begins to walk among the futons on the floor, her voice doing odd oscillations that almost seem to work with the Hum [[in a weird way->SilentSeekers8]].Utter, cavernous silence.
[[And then...->Chaos3]][[Chaos->Chaos4]]."We know the truth, though; this is not accidental, not inflicted by some extra-terrestrial force, or whatever god others believe in, but a deliberate plot by those in power to control, suppress, our minds and actions."
"We stand united against this conspiracy, at a crossroads in history that will expose the truth. The Hum is not benign; it is a sinister tool to keep us subservient. Those who submit, those content to let it play in the background of their thoughts, they are already lost. [[But not us.->SilentSeekers9]]""Our mission is clear: resist the Hum's influence, unveil its source, destroy it, and reclaim our autonomy."
She is back on the stage by now, her arms raised almost in benediction.
"We are the torchbearers of enlightenment, challenging the darkness of deception. Stand firm, Seekers, question relentlessly, and together we will triumph over the evil that seeks to bind us."
"Thank you, and let the pursuit of silence be our guide."
She leaves the stage to scattered applause.
George turns and raises an eyebrow. "Makes sense now, doesn't it? And [[d'you want to know the best bit?->SilentSeekers10]]"George smiles blissfully. "Mother Meek, and her inner circle, they sleep in Silence Pods. The same technology that they have in here, the one that means it's easier to sleep here, they have the best version of it." He reaches out and grips $name's hand, tight enough that it looks like it hurts a little. "Complete. Silence. Can you imagine?"
$name extricates their hand from their father's and looks at you, just as Brother Federico gets to your group.
He is holding a small chip-and-pin device, which [[he proffers towards George->SilentSeekers11]].George pulls out a battered debit card and taps it against the reader, but it emits only a small beep of protest.
"Ah," he says, and pulls out another, even more woebegone card. "It's just a little-"
The card declines again, and George turns to $name. "Listen, $name... think you can cover this? Must be some problem at the bank, maybe; I know there was money in there just yesterday, or there should be..."
You look over $name's shoulder at the card reader. The amount on the screen is enough that you pull in a sharp breath. University has been hard on your finances, and $partner's birthday is coming up. This won't put you in debt or anything, but it would represent a tightening of your belt.
"[[This is way too much.->SilentSeekers12no]]"
"[[This is a lot, but I can go halves with you.->SilentSeekers12]]"
Uncertainty wars on $name's face. "It... is," they say. "And I'm not sure whether the Hum's any different in here. Look, Dad, you can sleep at my place again tonight-"
George grabs $name's hand again. "I need this," he says. "I can't stand it. Can't bear to hear it. I'm almost at the donation point where I be second tier, nearer the front - those are even better shielded, don't you see?"
Brother Federico leans down. "You are disturbing the other Seekers," he murmurs, leaden-voiced. "Make a donation, or you will be asked to leave.
$name writhes in indecision. You consider that they, too, hear the Hum in a way you don't - a discomfort, a discordance with life. You look from George, to $name, to the impassive Federico.
"[[We should go.->SilentSeekersno2]]"
"[[If it means this much to you, we'll split it.->SilentSeekers12]]""Thanks," $name says, as Brother Federico processes the payments. "I... I don't know what it is, but Dad's right; the Hum, it's less in here."
You still can't quite determine a difference, but you sit down alongside $name.
"So, what happens next," they ask.
George points to the other end, behind the stage, to where Mother Meek's group is going through a doorway. "There's some sort of important meeting tonight. That's why I wanted to be here; word is, they're going to [[ask for volunteers.->SilentSeekers13]]"$name stands up with you, but George refuses to let go of them, clawing at their legs.
"I'll donate just for him," $name says quickly, pulling out their card and slapping it on the reader before you can stop them. "Dad, I need to go. I... come home, yeah? Mum misses you."
George has already sunk down, melting onto the futon. "I hope to see you soon," he says, not meeting anyone's eyes.
"I hope so too," $name says, but Federico is already gently but firmly ushering you towards the door and [[back out into the night->SilentSeekersno3]]. You share a quiet moment on the river's edge. $name is fighting tears, you realise, but you pretend not to notice, resting a hand on their shoulder.
"I'll ring mum in the morning," is all they say.
The walk back to your apartments is quiet, [[considering->FriendSaved2a]].You stay with $name while they make the difficult call, that evening at your insistence, and then another to the police to update the missing persons case.
$name stays the night at your place. You don't do much except talk and drink endless cups of tea, but it's something. When the sun rises, they head for their own apartment, a little unsteady.
They take a week off, and [[return to their studies->FriendSaved3]].$name frowns. "What for?"
"I don't know," George says absently. "Something big, I think, the way they've been talking about it. And getting in on that would be a surefire way to gain @@.info;[[credits for the Silence Pods.->silencepodscost]]@@" He taps his knee a couple of times with his fingers, then gets up. "I'm going to talk to them."
"Dad, no," $name says, but George ignores them. He gets up and walks towards the back.
"God, I feel like I'm just constantly tagging after him, in case something terrible happens," $name says, getting to their feet. "[[Come on.->SilentSeekers14]]"Backstage, there's a more utilitarian feel to things. There's a table set up, a map of the UK with @@.info;[[several red lines and circles drawn on it->map1]]@@, and around the table stand several people. Mother Meek is talking to George by the time you get there.
"Of course," she is saying, "volunteers are always desirable, particularly among those so faithful; you've spent time in many of our shelters just like this one, and your donations have not gone unnoticed."
Her eyes flick to you; up close, she's about middle aged, worry lines giving her a warm and kindly look, but the eyes flick from your face to $name's, taking you in at a glance. "And who is this? More faithful, [[looking to do something good->SilentSeekers15]] in the world?""This is $name," George says, "and their friend. I brought them."
"What... what is my dad volunteering for," $name asks. "Is it dangerous?"
"No, no. Goodness, no," Meek says. "We would never do anything like that. The Silent Seekers is a place of calm, of peace. We are simply concerned parties.
She steps around in front of the desk, hands tucked in to the sleeves of her robe. "You must have seen the impact this curse has had on the human race. The mental health concerns alone are staggering - lack of sleep, paranoia, violence in some, and in others simply a docile acceptance." She smiles. "No, we have a much more [[simple task->SilentSeekers16]] in mind."You listen as Mother Meek outlines the 'mission'. It is simple, indeed; recruit three specific people, one each for you, $name and George. You vaguely recognise one of the names; the son of a local Member of Parliament.
Mother Meek waves her hand at the idea. "We need information, and those closest to the source will be able to provide it. This young person is a student at the university here - it's one of the reasons we set this shelter up in this town. You coming to ask about this is more than just providence, I suppose. I'm not a believer in greater powers, but the universe does tend to provide."
She brings out a couple of photos of the young man in question. "We don't even need you to do anything - @@.info;[[just bring them here->violence]]@@. They'll hear the same things you've heard, and their choice from there will be the same [[choices you've made->SilentSeekers17]]."You wonder out loud if the Silent Seekers have some kind of plan regarding the MP's child - ransom, violence, something similar.
Mother Meek actually laughs, a gentle, musical sound. "Oh, my goodness no. What do you think we are, some sort of secret society out of a movie?" She chuckles again. "I do so love young people - your imaginations are always so virile! But no. We will simply show them the truth. What they do with it is [[up to them.->SilentSeekers16]]"George takes his assignment without hesitation, and Brother Federico hands him a slim folder.
$name holds their hand out tentatively, receiving their own folder. "And you won't hurt them or anything?"
Mother Meek smiles. "You can be with them the whole time, my dear. In fact, it might help if you are."
You dither for a moment over whether you should [[take your own assignment->SilentSeekers18]] or [[refuse your assignment and back out->SilentSeekers18no]].<<set $seekerslevel to 2>>You have an uneasy night at the shelter, as Mother Meek calls it. You spend a bit of time outside, trying to determine if the Hum really is different in here. It's impossible to tell, but so many of the people there believe it, it's possible that you're the one who hears it wrong.
For just a moment, you wonder if it's you all along that's been the weird one. Forty-eight people - you count them, in a sleepless hour around midnight - can't all be wrong, can they? What if, all this time, they've been hearing a different version of the noise to yours - one that gets louder and quieter, one that can be dimmed. One that makes the listener feel under attack, on edge, rather than the quiet companion you have that just hums along in the background.
There is a missed call on your phone from $partner. Seems like the warehouse blocks phone signal, at least. You call back, but they don't answer.
[[You get little sleep that night->SilentSeekers19]].$name turns to you, clutching their own folder. "I appreciate you're not... emotionally involved in this. I'm staying..." They lean in closer. "I have to keep close to Dad, find a way to reconnect with him, y'know?"
"[[I'm sure. I'm done here - I'm going back home.->SilentSeekers18no2]]"
[[Take the folder - if only to keep your friend safe->SilentSeekers18]].You back away, leaving George and $name with the group of Silent Seekers. George is already looking through his file, all else forgotten.
$name is looking at you, almost pleadingly.
"I respect a person who makes their own choices," Mother Meek says calmly. "If you change your mind - if you want to learn the deeper truth of how things are - you know where we are, for now."
She turns to $name and their father as you are escorted, gently but firmly, back out of the warehouse.
The door closes behind you, and you hurry home. A light rain begins to fall as you get there, and you spend an uneasy night listening to the twin sounds of the Hum and the pattering of raindrops against your window, [[thinking about your friend->TheTruthNo3]].Things move quickly in some ways, slowly in others. Over the days that follow, you complete your 'mission'. It's relatively easy, and your reward is a free night at the shelter. You donate it to George, who had a much harder time recruiting his person - a local business-owner, something to do with electronics.
Mother Meek quickly taps you for other things. A supply run, to keep the shelter running smoothly. Leaflet drops and putting stickers up. She organises a peaceful protest - a 'sleep-in', she calls it, smiling a little - and you take part. It all seems so organised, and when she moves on to the main shelter in London, she invites you along.
[[You consider this carefully->SilentSeekers20]].Your studies are suffering, it's true; you've been more involved with the Silent Seekers than with your own degree. But, oddly, you're sleeping far better than you ever did before. Surrounded by the quiet breathing of a few dozen other people, you relax into sleep more easily. And it's even easier on nights where you've earned your futon bed through activism.
$name is happier too. The bags under their eyes are not gone, but they seem more upbeat. Spending time with their father is [[helping them both->SilentSeekers20part2]].Weeks become months, and the operations - not just missions now, but operations - become more involved. Mother Meek seems determined that there is information on government-held computers that will crack this wide open. George is away, on a special mission with the other Sensitives - trying to determine where the source of the Hum is located.
In exchange for a month of free sleeping at the shelter, Mother Meek asks you to break in to a building.
Unsure, $name and you vacillate back and forth over a drink, until Mother Meek sends you both a message.
She will show you the Silence Pod if you agree to do this.
[[You do it->SilentSeekers22]].
[[You aren't sure about this...->SilentSeekers22No]]You do it.
It's almost laughably easy. Three of you, armed with a key, get in and out in under half an hour with the hard drive in hand. There was one sleepy guard, easy to sneak past. No fences to cut. No locks to pick. No alarms to silence or wires to cut. It would have been almost disappointingly mundane except for the pounding adrenaline and your racing heartbeat throughout.
You installed some software on specific machines, as well, all as instructed. Mother Meek will be pleased.
[[It was so easy->SilentSeekers23]].The pods are like science-fiction medical beds, with a clear plastic cover over them. Mother Meek supervises while you sit in one.
There's no immediate difference, even as she closes the cover. Perhaps a slight lessening in the sound...?
Mother Meek laughs that joyful laugh as you tell her this. "It wasn't switched on, of course. But there they are." She touches your cheek gently, then does the same to $name. "Keep up the work you've been doing and you'll be sleeping in one of those before too long."
[[You continue your work->SilentSeekers24]].Months become years. You rise through the ranks, although never quite to the Inner Circle. There always seems to be one more rank between you and that vaunted position, but [[you have faith->Years Pass SS1]].Study into the Hum continues, without much progress; of course not, Mother Meek points out. The government funding that research is keeping people busy, keeping eyes off the truth.
The Hum is old news now; there are new things. New wars. New viruses. New discoveries. For most, it becomes what it is - background noise, keeping them docile, keeping them in line. For you, it is a guiding light, reminding you of why you fight.
$name comes to you one evening as you sit in your private quarters in the London shelter. You live here pretty much full time now. Your family thinks you rent with friends.
"[[Something big is happening tomorrow,->Years2SS]]" your friend says."Dad's found where it is," $name continues. "The source. We're going to shut it down."
This is big. You haven't seen George for months - he leads a team now, and it keeps him busy.
"You and me; there's a device that helps shut it down. Shut down the Hum. It's the same tech they use in the Silence Pods."
$name leans forward. "They let me sleep in one." Their face becomes suffused by calm, by peace. "It was... incredible. This thing is real."
You have trouble sleeping that night, for the first time in a long time. But it's [[excitement, not worry->Years3SS]], that keeps you up.The next day, you are early for your mission.
"This is it," Mother Meek says. She is older now, matronly, but still kindly. She is stood next to a wooden crate ready to be loaded into a van. "It's simple. This merely needs to be next to the facility for a few hours and it will have done its job. You don't even need to stay with it."
She outlines the plan. The facility is a nondescript place - some sort of government think-tank - and the crate doesn't even need to be opened. "In fact," she says, "the delicate machinery inside could be upset if you open it. Be careful on the drive over, and then just walk away." She smiles at $name. "Soon, you can both sleep as peacefully as $name did last night."
[[You help load the van->Years4SS]].The facility is easy to find, and you park the van up.
$name gets out and opens the back door, just to check the crate hasn't been upset.
The crate is cracked open a little, the lid dislodged, and you hear them swear.
"[[Leave it. It'll either work or it won't.->Years5SS]]"
"[[Better check it over - can't hurt, it's open already.->Years5SSOPEN]]"[[You walk away->Years6SS]].$name calls you, but you step into the van. It bobs slightly under your weight, and you carefully peer in.
It's like something out of a bad TV programme, or a spy movie. There are glowing lights, wires everywhere,, a power source, and...
A timer. Ticking, counting down.
$name comes up to look at it with you.
"That looks like [[something we should be concerned about.->Years5SSOPEN2]]"It takes no time at all for the police to catch you. An hour at most, and you're shocked with the level of force they bring - SWAT team, armed, full gear. You are having a coffee at a local shop when they grab you.
They sling you into a van. $name is already there.
Your interrogation takes hours. You're informed that you're being held under the Terrorism Act; you can be held without charge for fourteen days.
[[It takes them only five to charge you->Years7SS]].The device was an explosive, small yield, but enough to destroy significant parts of the building it was parked against. The real target, though, were the computers in the building - part of the UK's cyber-crime division.
The case is dragged out over the newspapers for weeks. Mother Meek - in reality Valentina Petrovka - is revealed to be a Russian operative. She is involved in extensive criminal activity, particularly involving illicit use of electronics, and cryptocurrency-related thefts, including one at a 'research facility' you remember vividly. Her assets have been seized; all shelters shut down, and the Silent Seekers dissolved. Mother Meek is not apprehended, but leaves messages vowing revenge and the end of the Hum.
You protest all this, of course, but [[from inside a cell->Years8SS.]].They kept you and $name separate.
You never saw them again.
And you are in your cell when [[it finally happens->Years9SS]].[[The Hum stops->Chaos1]]. <<set $prison to "true">> <<audio "hum" stop>>You have a heated discussion back and forth for a moment. $name tries to argue it out - there must be a reason for this, they say. The greater good.
Your mind has gone to a much darker place about this ticking, humming device in the back of the van.
[[You let your friend persuade you->Years4SSNO]].
[[You call it in, anonymously->Years5SSOPEN3]].It takes almost no time for the police to catch up with you. You were as careful as you could be, but they were quicker.
You give yourself up peacefully.
The bomb is neutralised. There are no casualties.
And the long discussion about [[your future - both of you - begins->Years 6SSOPEN]].You cooperate fully. Under the Terrorism Act, you could have been held for two weeks without charge. With the information you give them, they hold you for only two days.
$name follows your lead, grudgingly at first, and with mounting horror as [[things pile up->Years7SSOPEN]].The device was an explosive, small yield, but enough to destroy significant parts of the building it was parked against. The real target, though, were the computers in the building - part of the UK's cyber-crime division.
The case is dragged out over the newspapers for weeks. Mother Meek - in reality Valentina Petrovka - is revealed to be a Russian operative. She is involved in extensive cryptocurrency-related thefts, including one at a 'research facility' you remember vividly. Her assets have been seized; all shelters shut down, and the Silent Seekers dissolved. Mother Meek is not apprehended, but leaves messages vowing revenge and the end of the Hum.
You escape with community service and, after a while, are able to [[go back to a relatively normal life->Years8SSOPEN.]].It's difficult at first, readjusting. Your family help, although they are old. George, $name's father, spends time in prison for his 'missions'.
Both of you find jobs - not the careers you once hoped you might have. Not a psychology professor or researcher, not a film director or actor, but good sturdy jobs that pays the bills.
You find it difficult, both of you, to sleep alone, so you rent a house together. There's nothing romantic in it; just a quiet sense of companionship.
And so, you are together [[on that day->Years9SSOPEN]]. <<set $prison to "false">>[[The Hum stops->Chaos1]]. <<audio "hum" stop>>...[[the Hum vanishes->Chaos1]]. <<audio "hum" stop>>You drain the last of your cup as $name tries to convince you.
"Think about it," they say. "This could be our chance. Same thing Dad's been trying to do - get in to the Inner Circle. And I've looked it up. The lab's empty - shut down for the summer. There's no-one there except for a couple of security guards at the front desk."
"[[Your dad hasn't made it in to the Inner Circle yet, and he's been trying for years...->SilentSeekers22No2]]"
"[[I don't know...->SilentSeekers22NoMaybe]]""Dad's... he's got stuff going on, even more than normal," $name says. "But I see what you're saying."
They drum their fingers on the table and then rap it with their knuckles, coming to a decision.
"If you don't want to do this... I'll respect your choice. You've always had a good sense of what's what, even when we were kids. But I have to think about the potential rewards. What if this Silence Pod is... real? Can I really pass that up?"
"[[Good luck, but I'm sorry. I'm done.->SilentSeekers22NoNo]]"
"[[Maybe you're right. And I don't want you putting yourself in danger alone.->SilentSeekers22NoYes]]""Listen," $name says. "If it goes wrong... you go. Go do whatever it is you want. Just... don't go to the police, ok? I don't trust them to do the right thing."
You drum your fingers on the table. There's a lot at stake here - this is a crime, and one against a government facility, even if it's only a small one. But the potential for rewards is high, and $name is looking at you with something like pleading mingled with a surety that you can do anything together.
"[[Ok. But if it goes wrong... you're leaving with me.->SilentSeekers22NoYes]]"
"[[No. I'm sorry, but this is too far for me. I'm out.->SilentSeekers22NoNo]]"$name holds your gaze for a moment, and rests a hand on yours.
"Good luck," they say. Then they get up and [[are gone->afterSSyears1]].$name touches your hand briefly. "I knew I could count on you," they say. You finish your drinks and head out.
There is a lot of reading to do before [[you go out on the mission->SilentSeekers22]].You don't think you will ever see $name again. <<set $saved to "false">>
[[But time marches on->afterSSyears2]].Getting back into life is odd. You didn't finish your degree, dropping out instead, and $partner has long ago moved on, but you've got a wealth of skills and experience from being part of the Silent Seekers to fall back on. You can't exactly talk about your time with them - it's not something you can put on your resume - but it's something.
You spend a few months working through various jobs, making ends meet. A few months turn into years, and before you know it, you're thirty and wondering [[what to do with your life->afterSSyears3]].<<set $partnercult to "true">><<set $relationship to "false">>You go back to college, passing a course as a plumber. The basics you learned with the Seekers were mostly correct, mostly useful, and although you've had to unlearn some shortcuts, you're able to make a career for yourself.
Hum Babies, as they are known, slowly start to enter the workforce - one or two of your classmates on the plumbing course were the oldest to only know a world suffused by sound. They perform better in psychological and physiological tests; they aren't distracted, it is theorised. 'Generation H' is how they refer to themselves, and [[the name sticks->Years3a]].Later, you go looking for the rest of the footage online. It's a nightmare, and nothing like you've seen it depicted in films or games. Everyone starts shooting, and it's over in a couple of heartbeats. There's a couple of people closer to the camera, dark spots on their clothes. One is moving only weakly.
Luckily, the footage is grainy and low-quality; you can't make out [[too many details->Americanews]].You've heard of secret societies, cabals, cults. Conspiracies. You've heard the one about the birds being fake, and the one about how paper money has magical symbols on it that mean things. It all sounds made up; the idea of any one group big enough to control things being able to keep a secret seems ridiculous.
Vicky Corking couldn't even keep that secret you told her about $name for a week.
Then again, whatever this sound is... it's something else [[you wouldn't have believed yesterday.->NorthKoreanews]]There's a lot of interviews with people who have had to leave the house, out into a world they are unsure about. Some are nervous. One woman describes how she's spending as little time as possible outside, as though the effect is better or worse there. You've tried it; there's no obvious difference.
A man comes on, older, saying it's nothing like as bad as things were in the war. You're assuming he means the war in the Middle East, the one that $name's father fought in, but then the man starts talking about bombing raids here in the UK. You realise he's much older, talking about World War 2.
[[None of this seems to help very much.->FirstWeek2]]More popular religions release statements, or hold National Days of Prayer. The Archbishop of Canterbury records a full sermon on finding God's peace in the most challenging of circumstances. She quotes from the Bible: "The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent." Over a thousand faithful people bow their heads in prayer at a cathedral somewhere in response, and murmur a prayer.
The Pope makes an address too, but it's in Latin, and the news only shows [[a portion of it->FirstWeek5]].You cast your mind back. They'd never returned home, never even made contact as far you know. There were some attempts made to find them; a local leaflet and poster campaign, and even a reward.
One of the higher-ups at your council made a statement talking about how difficult it was for veterans, and how we must all have patience and faith. A police officer, in an unguarded moment, said that the skills they'd learned in the war could keep them hidden forever, if they wanted. If they hadn't simply decided to end their life.
It was as though they had just evaporated, [[spirited away by the Hum->University3]].George chuckles drily as you ask about how one accesses the Silence Pods.
"You can't just buy access," he says. "I'd have done that years ago. No, you've got to earn favour. Be high up in the organisation. Know the right people. [[Donations are just the start.->SilentSeekers13]]"You don't really have a great view of the map, but it's pretty big. Several concentric circles are drawn around population centres. Dots at various points are connected by lines, and numbers are written next to them - like readings that have been taken. The whole effect is like some sort of arcane sigil drawn over the whole of the UK, and the red ink used doesn't help with [[that impression->SilentSeekers14]].$name takes Mother Meek up on her offer. The day they leave, you go to the station to see them off.
"If you [[change your mind->SilentSeekers21noyes]]," $name says, "I'm sure I can convince Mother Meek. If not, I promise, [[I'll be seeing you->DegreeReturn]]."You're able to get back on to your course, despite missing a couple of months of coursework. It's hard to catch up, but you settle back into it easily. Your family are none the wiser; you successfully convince them that a combination of an overactive social life, late nights, and relationship issues are to blame for your poor grades in that first year.
You sleep at the shelter occasionally, more for the company and the passing friendships you made, but numbers start to dwindle now that Mother Meek does not make regular speeches.
You reaffirm your relationship with $partner, making what apologies you need to, and try to get things back on track. There will always be this gulf between you, though.
[[You consider yourself lucky->friendvanish]]. <<set $partnercult to "false">>:: StoryInit
<<cacheaudio "hum" "sounds/bgm.mp3" "sounds/bgm.ogg" "sounds/bgm.wav">>
<<cacheaudio "pageturn" "sounds/pageturn.mp3" "sounds/pageturn.ogg" "sounds/pageturn.wav">>
<<cacheaudio "audio" "sounds/audio.mp3" "sounds/audio.ogg" "sounds/audio.wav">>Images in body: https://twinery.org/forum/discussion/1660/sugarcube-artistic-backgrounds-and-custom-fontsSteam achievements?
Well-intentioned religious nut? Or school representative? Some sort of non SS arc that still interacts with SS
No matter how much $name tries to stop you, you call it in as a bomb threat.
The operator on the other end wants to know more details, of course - name, phone number - but you've seen movies and TV series about this. If you don't stay on the line long, they can't [[triangulate your position->Years5SSOPEN4]]."There's no way it can be a bomb - the Silent Seekers are a peaceful organisation," $name says, and you agree. You close the van again [[and walk away->Years6SS]].<center>
You are
<h1>$ending</h1>
<<nobr>>Your friend's name was $name. <br>
You were <<if $friend is "true friends">>good friends with them.<br><</if>><<if $friend is not "true friends">>fair-weather friends with them.<br><</if>>
<<if $seekers is "true">>You explored the mysteries of the Silent Seekers.<br><</if>><<if $seekers is "false">>You refused to be drawn into the Silent Seekers.<br><</if>>
You were <<if $saved is "true">>successful in saving $name<</if>><<if $saved is "false">>unsuccessful in saving $name<</if>> from the Silent Seekers.<br>
<<if $namelatesave is "true">>You reunited with $name later on, for better or for worse.<br><</if>>
<<if $degree is "true">>You passed your degree.<br><</if>>
<<if $degree is "false">>You did not pass your degree.<br><</if>>
<<if $relationship is "true">>You found love with $partner.<br><</if>>
<<if $relationship is "false">>A long-term relationship with $partner was not a priority for you.<br><</if>>
<<if $baby is "true">>You had a child, randomly chosen to be a $gender.<br><</if>>
<<if $baby is "false">>You did not have a child.<br><</if>>
<<if $isaac is "false">>You weren't able to help Isaac turn his life around.<br><</if>>
<<if $isaac is "true">>You were able to help Isaac turn his life around.<br><</if>>
<<if $adultseeker is "true">>You chose to join the Silent Seekers later in life.<br><</if>>
<<if $adultseeker is "Charlie">>You chose to join the Silent Seekers later in life, and $name was able to help when you left them.<br><</if>>
<<if $prison is "true">>You went to prison for your part in a Russian terrorist operation.<br><</if>>
<br><br>
<<link "Play again?">><<run UI.restart()>><</link>><</nobr>>
</center>You can hear a voice in the background, the words indistinct. Next to you, $partner mumbles something in their sleep, equally incoherently.
$name continues. "He says he's been, uh, finding out the truth. Something about the Silent Seekers, whatever that is. Ah, god, sorry, it's late. He, he keeps talking about the Hum, y'know, and Mum, and all this stuff. Look, I don't know who else to call; can you come over?"
You are aware that leaving your bed in the middle of the night, leaving your partner, might not bode well for your new relationship. But, looking at the time, $name must be desperate to have called so late. Or early.
"[[I'll be there in a few minutes.->TheTruth1]]"
"[[Maybe call your mum? She'd want to know, right?->TheTruthMum]]"
"[[I'm sorry - it's the middle of the night.->TheTruthNo1]]"You fall into, and out of, a couple of relationships that year. They're nothing to write home about - each one a stumbling exploration of feelings, both physical and emotional - but then @@.info;[[you meet someone else->partnermeet]]@@.
This time it's more than a fleeting thing; this time, there is a true connection. Both of you have things you need and want, and both of you are happy to supply it.
<label>Their name is <<textbox "$partner" "Sage">></label> and it is not long before they are sleeping over at yours on a very regular basis. <<set $partnercult to "false">><<set $partnerexperience to 0>>
Your university life takes on a very different texture, [[warmer and more comfortable->University3]].You met at the pub. Not terribly romantic, but you were supposed to be out drinking with friends; you'd been stood up, though. So had they, and you got talking at the bar.
Initially, it was both of you complaining about your love lives. Then it was comparing childhoods. Reactions to the Hum starting. Before long, you had gotten into deep conversation, and it was clear that this was easy.
From there, [[things went very smoothly->University2partner]].$partner has all-but given up on contacting you, and you aren't sure how you feel about that. One part of you mourns the relationship that could have been, and wonders if you should attempt to rekindle it. The other part of you wonders if what you had with $partner was truly real, if your exploration of a different ideology can break it. Several times, [[you pick up the phone to call, or message->partnerlastchance1]].<<set $partnerexperience to 1>>
The Seekers aren't just about protest or slapping up a few stickers. You've helped improve on the shelter where you've been living; you've learned electrical safety, basic plumbing, even a little building work. You feel strong in your body.
The time comes, though, when you have to choose: either [[you go with Mother Meek to London->SilentSeekers21]] or [[you refuse, and stay->SilentSeekers21no]].You rent a place together, revelling in this life milestone.
You go into education, eventually; child psychology has always been an underfunded and understaffed sector of study, and you fit right in. $partner has their own career as an artist, one that they are uniquely suited to, and you support each other in various ways.
<<set $relationship to "true">>It's through your work in schools that you come across [[the Clarke family->clarkes1]].You reach a point in your relationship where things are stable. You've managed to scrape together enough money to buy a small house; it's nowhere near anything useful, and only just big enough for you, but it still feels like a fantasy.
It is only a couple of months before $partner raises the question of having a family.
They make it clear it's not a deal-breaker; things are unsettled in general in the world. But you consider it carefully, trying to determine what shape your life could be.
[[You try for it->YearsPartner3BabyYes]].
[[You decide to wait->YearsPartner3BabyNo]].You double down on your relationship, on making your new house a home for the two of you, deciding to keep your family to just the two of you. <<set $baby to "false">>
You adopt a cat. It spends most of its time in $partner's painting room, where the sun is the warmest.
Hum Babies, as they are known, slowly start to enter the workforce. The oldest, aged sixteen, perform better in psychological and physiological tests; they aren't distracted, it is theorised. 'Generation H' is how they refer to themselves, and [[the name sticks->YearsPartner4]]<<nobr>>Your family grows.<br><br><<set $chance to random(1)>>
<<if $chance is 0>>
It is a boy. <br><br><<set $gender to "son">>
<<elseif $chance is 1>>
It is a girl. <br><br><<set $gender to "daughter">>
<</if>>
<<set $baby to "true">>
Your child is part of a new generation. Hum Babies, as they are known, slowly start to enter the workforce. The oldest, aged sixteen, perform better in psychological and physiological tests; they aren't distracted, it is theorised. 'Generation H' is how they refer to themselves, and [[the name sticks->YearsPartner4]]<</nobr>><<nobr>>Your life continues on a path that, while unplanned, at least works well in the moment. <<if $baby is "true">>Having a child in the house puts different pressures on you. You find that the shape of your life changes, slowly, to absorb this new imperative. Your vacations with $partner become more regular, erring towards places that are family-friendly. Their career works well around having a growing child, and things continue on peaceably.<</if>><<if $baby is "false">>You take vacations as often as you can, exploring different parts of the world. Money is never fully comfortable, but you make what you have work. $partner's career takes off, and you find yourself a guest at various exhibitions. Their work stands proudly on the walls, and you bask in shared warmness and pride.<</if>><br><br>
<<if $saved is "false">>Some things stay the same, and [[some change->YearsPartner5]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true">>Some things stay the same, and [[some change->YearsPartner4a]].<</if>>
<</nobr>><<nobr>>Fewer and fewer people observe Hum Day, that day in late summer this all started. It's meaningless for the young, and hated by the old, and those who still suffer from SAC. Statistically, there are fewer of those too these days. Science hails this as a success, despite it being inevitable as the population ages.<br><br>
<<if $saved is "false">>You watch out for $name, for their name, but [[you never see it->Yearspartner6]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true">>You keep your eyes open for any signs of the mysterious Silent Seekers, but never [[see anything about them->Yearspartner6]].<</if>><</nobr>><<nobr>>Until one day, you do.<br><br>
<<if $baby is "true" and $saved is "false">>'Terrorist plot foiled,' the headline runs. There's a picture - a mugshot. It's $name, no doubt about it. Older - mid forties, same as you - thinner, more intense-looking, staring right into the camera.<br><br>
You were sat at the breakfast table, enjoying a morning coffee. Your $gender, school uniform on, continues to munch on cereal as though nothing has changed. Now your coffee is going cold on the table [[as you read->Years5partner]].<</if>>
<<if $baby is "true" and $saved is "true">>'Terrorist plot foiled,' the headline runs. There's a picture - a mugshot of a woman. No-one you recognise. You were sat at the breakfast table, enjoying a morning coffee. Your $gender, school-age now, continues to munch on cereal as though nothing has changed.<br><br>
$name calls you, voice shaking. "She was there. She was the one Dad was talking to." $name is silent for a moment, then murmurs, "Things could have gone so horribly wrong."<br><br>
You talk it back and forth for a few minutes before [[going back to the article->Years5partner]].<</if>>
<<if $baby is "false" and $saved is "false">>'Terrorist plot foiled,' the headline runs. There's a picture - a mugshot. It's $name, no doubt about it. Older - mid-forties, same as you - thinner, more intense-looking, staring right into the camera.<br><br>
You were sat at a cafe, enjoying a morning coffee. $partner notices that you've stopped, looking up from their book. "What is it?"<br><br>
You share the newspaper [[as you both read->Years5partner]].<</if>>
<<if $baby is "false" and $saved is "true">>'Terrorist plot foiled,' the headline runs. There's a picture - a mugshot of a woman. No-one you recognise.<br><br>
You were sat at a cafe, enjoying a morning coffee. $partner notices that you've stopped, looking up from their book. "What is it?"<br><br>
Your phone rings. It is $name, voice shaking. "She was there. She was the one Dad was talking to." $name is silent for a moment, then murmurs, "Things could have gone so horribly wrong."<br><br>
You talk it back and forth, $partner adding their own thoughts, for a few minutes before [[going back to the article->Years5partner]].<</if>><</nobr>>'A plot by the Silent Seekers, an emergent terrorist organisation,' the article continues, 'has been foiled by members of the British Secret Service. Commissioner Goldwin of the Met Office confirmed this morning that elements of the organisation, who believe that the phenomenon known as the Hum is a government-led conspiracy, were stopped in their attempt to set off a dirty bomb in the London Underground.'
The article goes on, but your eyes gently glaze over, staring into those eyes in the mugshot. Those eyes, hollow, bloodshot, but intense, so much like $name's father's [[that night->Years6partner]].<<nobr>>The rest of the article isn't very forthcoming, and you watch the case with interest over the ensuing weeks. Your work keeps you busy, but your mind occasionally drifts back to it.<br><br>
<<if $saved is "false">>It's hard to match up $name with the person on the front page of that newspaper. Sometimes, lying awake at night next to $partner, you think about whether you could have helped more.<br><br>
[[Time has moved on, though->Years7partner]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true">>Personal tragedy leaks into $name's life once more. Their partner leaves them, dissolving their marriage - irreconcilable differences, it appears, although you suspect that the constantly-audible reminder of how bad things are for $name [[doesn't help->PartnerYears6a]].<</if>><</nobr>><<nobr>>Years pass. Tensions rise and fall between nations, but for prosaic reasons. Space is, if not conquered, partially tamed; bases on the Moon, a replacement for the International Space Station. The Hum exists out there too, of course. Astronaut Samantha Glennison, describes it as "an old friend, keeping me company in the times we're out of contact with Earth."<br><br>
<<if $baby is "true">>Your $gender, a young adult now in their own right, has gone travelling. You're in regular touch - it stops you worrying - but you think they're somewhere in Europe now. They've managed to find a programme that hooks them up with work in exchange for seeing the world.<br><br>
You hope they do not fall foul of any cults.<br><br>
[[You settle in to older age->Years8partner]].<</if>>
<<if $baby is "false">>You are comfortable, by any measure. You have a good job, a strong relationship, and your friendship group, while small, is tight.<br><br>
$partner continues to have some success in the art world, enough that you can take a long trip around the Caribbean. You island-hop for a while before returning home, tanned and with a bundle of stories for your envious friends.<br><br>
[[You settle in to older age->Years8partner]].<</if>><</nobr>>And one day, while $partner is at home and [[you are in town...->Years9partner]]...[[the Hum vanishes->Chaos1]]. <<audio "hum" stop>>With no hard feelings between you, you and $partner go your separate ways. There will be other times, other people, but there will never be anyone quite like your first love.
<<set $relationship to "false">>
[[Things change->Years2]]Your life with $partner is one that is full of sounds of all sorts, but also full of silences. There are times when the house is so full of people that it seems to burst at the seams.
But in the quiet times, in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Parent">>Your life with $partner is one that is busy, despite your age. You have places to go, friends to visit, and sights to see.
But in the quiet times, in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Partner">>Your life with $partner is one that is full of sounds of all sorts, but also full of silences. You keep yourselves busy, despite your age. You have places to go, friends to visit, and sights to see.
$name is a regular at your dinner table, and you have holidayed together. They are like a family member, like a sibling, and you are comfortable.
But in the quiet times, in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Paragon">>Your life with $partner is one that is full of sounds of all sorts, but also full of silences. There are times when the house is so full of people that it seems to burst at the seams. $name is a regular at your dinner table, and you have holidayed together. They are like a family member, almost another grandparent to your $gender's children.
But in the quiet times, in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Paragon Parent">>Your life with $partner is one that is full of sounds of all sorts, but also full of silences. There are times when the house is so full of people that it seems to burst at the seams - your $gender makes sure to bring the grandchildren over frequently.
You check in from time to time with $name, and still find reasons to meet up for the occasional pint.
But in the quiet times, in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Balanced Parent">>Your life with $partner is one that is full of sounds of all sorts, but also full of silences. You keep yourselves busy, despite your age. You have places to go, friends to visit, and sights to see.
You check in from time to time with $name, and still find reasons to meet up for the occasional pint.
But in the quiet times, in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Balanced">>It's not the first time you've not heard from them. You're good friends, but you both need your space. With everything that's going on, though, it's weird enough that you want to check on them. You call, but their mum answers, and say they can't come to the phone.
She does say she'll let them know you called, though, and thanks you kindly.
You want to go visit them. Your parents are adamant, though: [[no going out->FirstWeek1]]. <<set $friend++>><<set $friendcheck2 to "true">>$name smiles weakly for the first time and thanks you.
"It's just... been weird," they say. "Like-"
At that moment, a teacher breaks up your hushed conversation. $name is called in to see the headteacher, and comes out looking a bit more like their normal self.
[[The world slowly moves on->FirstWeek9]]. <<set $friend++>><<nobr>><<if $saved is "true" and $relationship is "false">>You still have your health. Your retirement. Things could have gone so horribly wrong, for you and $name both. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->Retired with Friend Best]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true" and $relationship is "true" and $baby is "true">>You still have your health. Your retirement. You've been extraordinarily fortunate, all things considered; you have your relationship with $partner, your $gender and, more recently, grandchildren. <br><br>
Your lifelong friendship with $name was something solid that the rest of your life could stand on. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->you, partner, friend, baby best]]<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true" and $relationship is "true" and $baby is "false">>You still have your health. Your retirement. You've been extraordinarily fortunate, all things considered; you have your relationship with $partner, as secure as ever despite the long years. <br><br>
Your lifelong friendship with $name was something solid that the rest of your life could stand on. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->you, partner, friend, no baby best]]<</if>><<set $friend to "true friends">>
<<if $prison is "true">>
You watch all this from within prison walls, waiting out your time. When you are released, it is into the world that you helped craft. You have your health, although many years have passed. You were lucky - the Hum hadn't burrowed so deeply into your psyche that its tendrils could destroy you, as so many others had died. $name is out too - their release was finalised over six months ago.<br><br>
Mother Meek is out there somewhere, replete on her success of ending the threat the Hum represented, and she would need help in [[this new world->Silent Seeker Bad Ending]].<</if>>
<<if $prison is "false">>You watch all this with $name. You still have your health, albeit not the full career that once you might have hoped for. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your own experience as to so many others. And $name sleeps peacefully every night now. Your lifelong friendship supports you both, in many ways. Things could have gone so horribly wrong for you, [[but for one choice->Silent Seeker Good Ending]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "false" and $relationship is "false">>You still have your health. Your retirement. You go to a local café, from time to time, just to reminisce to yourself. You think of $name often, of what might have been. You were good friends, once; where could your choices have led you, if you had them over again? You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->Retired alone]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "false" and $relationship is "true" and $baby is "true">>You still have your health. Your retirement, comfortable with $partner. Your $gender. In the quiet times, when it's just you and $partner in between visits from friends, family, grandchildren, you think of $name, of what might have been. You had been good friends, despite it all; where could your choices have led you, if you had them over again? You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->Retired with partner and baby no friend]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "false" and $relationship is "true" and $baby is "false">>You still have your health. Your retirement, comfortable with $partner. In the quiet times, when it's just you and $partner, you share a drink and think of $name, of that strange part of your lives - of everyone's life. You and $name had been good friends, despite it all; where could your choices have led you, if you had them over again? You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your experience as it was to [[so many others->Retired with partner no baby no friend]].<</if>>
<</nobr>>There is a pause at the other end of the line, behind which the sound of that other voice mumbles on. "Yeah, sorry," $name says eventually. "It's a big ask. Look, uh, sorry to have woken you. Say hi to $partner."
They hang up.
You gently lay the phone down and submerge back into the warmth of your bed, the warmth of $partner's presence, and [[the ever-present embrace of the Hum->TheTruthNo2]].<<set $friend-->>You let them in and make a cup of tea while they shakily explain.
"Dad was raving, all this stuff about secret societies and... I didn't know what to do. I went with him, to one of their meetings. They were saying all these things - about how the government has been controlling the Hum, and about how it's tapping into a frequency that keeps us controlled. Suppressed." $name shudders. "The people there, they all believed it. Dad believes it."
They hold their cup in both hands, sipping from it. "I... I wanted to support him, but... we're pretty good friends, you and me. Sometimes, when I'm not sure about it all, I think, what would you do?" $name shakes their head as they finish the tea. "He's got money involved, big money, and I'm worried about his health. The way you always used to check up on me."
They finally stand up. "I'm calling Mum. [[This is way too much for me.->FriendSaved2]]"You have several attempts at finding another partner, but you're coming to the dating scene much later, and with less experience, than many. You have several dates that go badly; more than a surface exploration of your youth is difficult to talk about, and you're aware that many people view the Silent Seekers as 'just another cult'.
You consider seriously whether to [[reach out->partnerredo1]] to $partner, your only serious relationship, or whether to just accept that [[you're in this alone for now->Years3]].It is several rings before $partner picks up the phone.
"Are you... ok? It's been so long, and you ignored so many of my calls. I left messages..."
You give a short version of the things that have been happening recently, of the things you've heard and seen.
"Oh my god," $partner says quietly. "I was right. The stuff I've been looking up online, in the news... this is a, a cult. You're in some sort of cult."
You argue back and forth. It's nothing like as bad as that; you could argue that [[it's just community service->partnerlastchance1no]]. They insist, though; it's impossible not to [[listen carefully to what they say->partnerlastchance1yes]].On the spur of the moment, you grab $name's hand. This is your last chance, and you know it.
"[[Good luck in London->SilentSeekers21noyesno]]."
"[[We started this together; I can't let you finish it alone->SilentSeekers21noyesyes]]."On impulse, they hug you, but it's brief, and too quickly over.
They get on their train, [[and it leaves->DegreeReturn]].<<set $saved to "false">>$name's face lights up in a way you haven't seen since you were children.
"I knew it," they say, pulling you up onto the train. "I can count on you."
They hug you, and it feels more solid than most things have recently.
[[The train pulls away->SilentSeekers21]].At first, $partner is suspicious. You reach out via social media; they've managed to build up a career for themselves in the art world. You've seen their work; it's evocative, emotional.
They do eventually agree to meet, though, in a public place during a busy lunch hour.
They've changed in small ways; they're older, of course, but so are you. Hair shorter; more frown lines, or maybe laughter lines. But [[you get talking->partnerredo2]].$partner's arguments become more direct, and then their voice reaches an iron certainty.
"You're clearly not seeing sense, or listening to what I'm saying. It's over. Over between us. Do whatever you want with your weird little commune, with $name, with whatever freakish stuff they're doing. We're done."
The silence of their absence lets the Hum seep back in. [[Their loss, perhaps->SilentSeekers21]]<<set $relationship to "false">>You let them talk you round to meeting up for a pint at your old regular haunt.
As soon as you're there, $partner throws their arms around you. You swallow past a lump in your throat; you hadn't realised quite how deeply their feelings for you ran.
You listen quietly as $partner lays out the research they've been doing. About the articles they've found that lay out the pyramid-scheme ethos of the Silent Seekers, and about the early psychological studies into those that use their shelters.
You look at all the evidence; [[could this be true->partnerlastchance2]]? Or is $partner a victim of a post-truth narrative, one that discounts the [[good work that the Seekers are doing->partnerlastchance1no]]?$partner closes their eyes in relief. "Thank you," they say.
You hug, long and tenderly. When you part, $partner continues to hold your hand.
"Let's [[get your life back together->DegreeReturn]].""I didn't forgive you," they say, eventually. It's taken a while to get around to this topic of conversation; lots of stilted catching-up talk has danced around the main topic. "Not for a long time. You were doing something so... so stupid."
You agree, to some extent. You explain what brought you to this point; that you could have gone deeper, committed more to the Seekers. Ultimately, though, you got cold feet, or maybe you secretly began to suspect that things weren't alright among your fellow Seekers.
[[They listen sternly->partnerredo3]]."I need to think about this all," $partner says, when you have spilled out your tale. "Things aren't the same. We're not uni kids any more, fumbling our way through life. We're adults. I've got a career. And... I've had my own share of things happen in my life."
They pay the tab and leave you, promising to be in touch.
[[You are tentatively hopeful->partnerredo4]].It is long enough that you're worried $partner has ghosted you, but eventually they get back in touch. A second... date? Perhaps, perhaps not.
$partner shares their own intervening years. A marriage. An attempt to have a family. The incompatibility that led to separation, then divorce.
"It can't be what we were when we were kids," they say. "Can't be the hectic, spur-of-the-moment experience. But... I'd like to get to know you, know who you are now. And try to find the 'who' you were then."
[[It is enough->YearsPartner4]].<<set $relationship to "true">><<set $baby to "false">><<nobr>><<if $friend is 4 or $friend is 3 or $friend is 2 or $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>You lose regular touch with $name, but this time it's a gentler affair. You send and receive birthday cards.<br><br>They have a child, and you attend the various parties that come about from this. You meet up occasionally for a pizza when their partner is [[out of town->Years3]].<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true" and $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>You stay in close touch with $name. They meet a partner, have a child. You meet up often for a coffee or a pub meal, and at Christmas you all get together as one family - your own parents, them, their mum, everyone.<br><br>Not George, though; you visit him from time to time with $name. His care is round-the-clock, and it is a shock to no-one when he quietly passes away in the night.<br><br>
You speak at [[the funeral->Years3]].<</if>><</nobr>>Fewer and fewer people observe Hum Day, that day in late summer this all started. It's meaningless for the young, and hated by the old, and those who still suffer from SAC. Statistically, there are fewer of those too these days. Science hails this as a success, despite it being inevitable as the population ages.
You watch out for $name, for their name, but [[you never see it->Years 4]].<<nobr>><<if $friend is 4 or $friend is 3 or $friend is 2 or $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>You're distantly aware of all this; their schedule is suddenly a lot more open, and you meet up more regularly to spend time together. The energetic and intense friendship of youth, not entirely maintained into adulthood, slowly becomes the comfortable friendship of later years. You both join a sports club.<br><br>
They are much better at it than you.<br><br>
[[Time moves on, though->Years7]].<</if>>
<<if $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>You mourn this fresh wound with them, spending time together. Your close friendship - the energetic and intense friendship of youth that became the unshakeable bond of adulthood - mellows into something more companionable.<br><br>
You spend more and more time together.<br><br>
[[Time moves on, though->Years7]].
<</if>><</nobr>><<nobr>><<if $friend is 4 or $friend is 3 or $friend is 2 or $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>You're distantly aware of this; their schedule is suddenly a lot more open, and you meet up more regularly to spend time together. $partner insists that they come by once a month for pizza. <br><br>The energetic and intense friendship of youth, not entirely maintained into adulthood, slowly becomes the comfortable friendship of later years. You both join a sports club.<br><br>
They are much better at it than you.<br><br>
[[Time moves on, though->Years7partner]].<</if>>
<<if $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>You mourn this fresh wound with them, spending time together. Your close friendship - the energetic and intense friendship of youth that became the unshakeable bond of adulthood - mellows into something more companionable. <br><br>You frequently find reasons to share your time with each other - you, $name and $partner; board games, movies, home-cooked meals.<br><br>
[[Time moves on, though->Years7partner]].
<</if>><</nobr>><<nobr>><<if $friend is 4 or $friend is 3 or $friend is 2 or $friend is 1 or $friend is 0 or $friend is -1 or $friend is -2>>You lose regular touch with $name, but this time it's a gentler affair. You send and receive birthday cards.<br><br>They have a child, and you attend the various parties that come about from this. You meet up occasionally for a pizza when their partner is [[out of town->YearsPartner5]].<</if>>
<<if $friend is 5 or $friend is 6 or $friend is 7 or $friend is 8 or $friend is 9>>You stay in close touch with $name. They meet a partner, have a child. You meet up often for a coffee, a pub meal, something social, and at Christmas you all get together as one family - your own parents, them, their mum, everyone.<br><br>Not George, though; you visit him from time to time with $name. His care is round-the-clock, and it is a shock to no-one when he quietly passes away in the night.<br><br>
[[You speak at the funeral->YearsPartner5]].<</if>><</nobr>>As an educational psychologist, you're regularly assigned families to work with, usually because schools have requested assistance with a child. It's not always because they're 'trouble', although you've come across plenty of those. Sometimes they just need help, or direction, or a diagnosis that can lead to either.
This one is much the same as many others; a young boy, Isaac, getting into enough trouble at school that everyone needs support. Threatened violence against other students, swearing at everyone, skipping classes; the full gamut.
At first, you think little of it, beyond [[the normal checks and interviews->clarkes2]].<<if $relationship is "false">>Your work keeps you busy, always busy. There are always more families to meet with; more children to help. It's never about the Hum; it's far more regular things, like depression, autism, attention deficit disorder, diagnoses, counselling.<br><br>The little things that you didn't notice when you were in school. They were there, though; even though the names for them hadn't existed yet, [[they were there->Years2a]].<</if>><<if $relationship is "true">>Your work keeps you busy, always busy. There are always more families to meet with; more children to help. It's never about the Hum; it's far more regular things, like depression, autism, attention deficit disorder, diagnoses, counselling.<br><br>The little things that you didn't notice when you were in school. They were there, though; even though the names for them hadn't existed yet, [[they were there->YearsPartner2]].<</if>><<nobr>>
It's when the mother takes you aside that you begin to wonder.
<br><br>
She speaks quietly, almost enough that you have to lean in to hear. Her name is Lottie. She explains that Isaac, her son, spends most of his time out of the house. He doesn't want to be at home, or eat meals with the family. She worries, of course, that he's mixed up in something; gang culture, maybe, or drugs. She's particularly worried, though, because one of his friends, Lucy, has gotten wrapped up in some special interest group. She's worried that Isaac's getting dragged in to some cult, or something.
<br><br>
<<if $seekers is "true">>Your breath catches as Lottie reaches into her bag and pulls out a leaflet - one you've seen before, held before - one that brings back memories.<</if>><<if $seekers is "false">>Lottie reaches into her bag and pulls out a leaflet. You take it and look it over; it's one you've seen before.<</if>> They were everywhere, once - at bus stops, noticeboards. '[[The Silent Seekers need you->clarkes3]].'
<</nobr>><<nobr>><<if $saved is "true">>Hum Babies, as they are known, slowly start to enter the workforce. The oldest, aged sixteen, perform better in psychological and physiological tests; they aren't distracted, it is theorised. 'Generation H' is how they refer to themselves, and [[the name sticks->Years3saved]].<</if>><<if $saved is "false">>Hum Babies, as they are known, slowly start to enter the workforce. The oldest, aged sixteen, perform better in psychological and physiological tests; they aren't distracted, it is theorised. 'Generation H' is how they refer to themselves, and [[the name sticks->Years3nosave]].<</if>><</nobr>><<nobr>>It's a little outside of your remit, but you agree to look into it. Lottie leaves, reassured if not happy.
<br><br>
<<if $saved is "true">>Your first thought is to call $name, but it wouldn't be fair. That part of their life is over, and it's not their fight.<</if>><<if $saved is "false">>Your first thought is of $name, but you're not in any sort of contact with them. If the Silent Seekers is as far-reaching as it seems, the chance of them being involved with this specific young man are small.<</if>>
<br><br>
You are still clutching the leaflet in your hand when you get home.
<br><br>
It has been a while since the Hum was anything more than background noise, easily forgotten, but this evening, as you lie awake, it intrudes. [[You find sleep difficult->clarkes4]].<</nobr>>Talking with @@.info;[[Isaac->Isaac description]]@@ only deepens the mystery.
He's uncommunicative, at first. You're used to that; you're an outsider, a stranger, and often the children - young people, really - that you speak to don't know what help looks like, or whether they're willing to accept help on any terms that aren't their own.
You talk around the subject for a while. He used to be a promising student - still can be, if he turns his mind to it. Popular, too.
You consider whether [[to bring up the leaflet->clarkes5]] or whether to [[let things play out->clarkesno5]] without your personal life interfering.He's young, maybe thirteen. You pause for a second, mentally pulling a face; becoming a responsible adult, a professional, means that everyone under the age of twenty is suddenly a 'young person'. He slumps in the uncomfortable plastic chair, arms folded, big baggy hooded sweatshirt making him formless.
Eyes that analyse, that are keeping track of everything, gleam out from under black hair. He's defensive, always; coiled in on himself.
He did accept a biscuit from the packet you offered, though, so [[it's not all bad->clarkes4]].You bring the leaflet out and place it on the table.
"Mum gave you that," Isaac says, chin sinking further into his chest. He's slumped so far in the chair that he's almost horizontal.
You explain about your past experiences with the Silent Seekers - about $name. Something catches in Isaac's expression at that.
He goes quiet, and you take a biscuit, [[letting things settle->clarkes6]].You wrap the session up and pretend not to notice as Isaac pockets the last few biscuits. He stands up and pauses before leaving, and for a moment you wonder whether you should sit him back down, [[ask him about the leaflet->clarkes5]] or let him [[get on with his own life->clarkesno5a]], his own choices.You take the rare step of calling his mother. Normally, all communication goes through the school, but something about this feels different.
She is in pieces, of course. Lashing out at everyone - Isaac, his friend that's involved with the Silent Seekers, the mysterious organisation themselves, you, the school. She hangs up on you.
You keep an eye out for Isaac's name in the papers, and check in occasionally with the school, but his case is not a unique one. You can't win them all, and [[there will always be other young people in need->clarkes7no]].<<set $isaac to "false">>Just as you're about to wrap the session up, Isaac starts forward.
"My friend - Lucy. She's one of them, the Seekers. I've been trying to get her to leave, to come home."
You pause, notebook half into your bag.
"Her dad doesn't care. She doesn't live with her mum. She doesn't have anyone. And we're friends. I can't just leave her to whatever they'll do to her."
[[Ask about Lucy->about lucy]].
[[Ask why he hasn't explained before->explanation]].
[[Ask what he's been doing about it->whatdo]].
[[Move the conversation on->clarkes7]]"She's my age," Isaac says, not meeting your eyes. "It's not like we're going out or anything - she's a friend. A really good friend."
He shoves his hands deeply into his pockets. "When her mum split up with her dad, she hung out a lot with me. Didn't want to be at home. And then this person was handing out leaflets. She took it, and went along."
Isaac's frown reveals a sadness deeper than any child should have to bear. "Before, we were like most kids. Couldn't hear it, really; it was like breathing. But sometimes, you become aware of your breathing, yeah? And it's hard to stop hearing it once you know it's there. And Lucy... she couldn't handle it."
You make a couple of notes as he gets up and goes to the window, [[looking out at the grey morning->clarkes6a]].<<set $lucychat to 1>>When you ask about why he hasn't told anyone, his expression turns ugly.
"You think I haven't tried? Over and over? No-one listens to me. To us! We're like... we're like the Hum! Background noise. It's like no-one adult has ever experienced the stuff we're going through, so our experience isn't worth anything."
The room's acoustics ring slightly from this outburst, and you take a moment for it to subside. You know, from past experience, that Isaac won't apologise - wouldn't even feel the need to - for this deeply-held truth. In some ways, [[you know exactly what he's feeling->clarkes6a]].<<set $explainchat to 1>>"I've been going along sometimes. Sneaking out, coming back before Mum and Dad are awake, so they don't know I've been gone," Isaac says. "Trying to convince her to leave. But... I see her there. She's happy. She gets this look on her face... so calm, so peaceful."
He shrugs. "I want her to be happy, and maybe I should just let her stay there. But they make her pay, and work, too. Recruit people, go to rallies and marches. I've seen stuff about... about cults. About religious groups that go too far, and what happens to them. And I think she's stealing the money to go there from her dad."
Isaac lets out a sigh. "Not that he'd notice. Too busy [[looking after the only thing he cares about - himself->clarkes6a]]."<<set $whatchat to 1>>You ponder your options. Really, this is a matter for Child Services. The one thing you absolutely should not do is [[get involved yourself->clarkes8]] - there are rules against that. Very firm rules.
What you should do is tell Isaac that you will [[pass it on to the authorities->clarks8no]], and that he should stay safe.<<nobr>>You extract a promise from Isaac to stay in this evening, in exchange for knowing the details of the Silent Seekers meeting.
<br><br>
<<if $relationship is "true">>You do not tell $partner about any of this. As far as they know, you're out with work colleagues.<br><br><</if>>
<<if $seekerslevel is 0>>You feel your lack of knowledge about the Seekers as you approach them. You've done a bit of digging, of course; always out-of-town locations, always fairly run-down. Warehouses, abandoned buildings, disused sports halls, that kind of thing. This one is an old apartment block, condemned [[but still standing->lucya1]].<</if>><<if $seekerslevel is 1>>You feel again the sick fear of your youth, tempered now by your adult experience. This is so similar in so many ways; the location is different - an old, condemned apartment block - but [[so many other things are similar->lucyb1]].<</if>><<if $seekerslevel is 2>>You try not to think of this as going backwards. As sinking back into a comfortable bath, fresh hot water added to heat it up. You're here for a reason, and your resolve will make the difference. They're operating out of an old, condemned apartment block this time; easy to retrofit into a Shelter, [[no doubt->lucyc1]].<</if>>
<</nobr>>He seems to curl up a little as you tell him you'll pass this all on. All the openness he was showing disappears as his shoulders hunch and his eyes become piercing again, analytical.
"They won't do anything," he said. "You're one of them. Just like the others."
For a moment, you wonder if he will shout, or fly into a rage. He just leaves the room, and the door clicking quietly closed is [[somehow worse->clarkes9no]].True to your word, you pass the information on. The school is concerned, and they begin to make enquiries with other agencies.
Other cases take your attention; in any given day, you might have five or six to look at, to visit, to write reports on. It's a few days before you're able to get back in touch with Isaac's school.
The news is not good. Isaac got into a fight the day after you spoke to him - a scuffle with a teacher, of all things. He jumped the fence and escaped, and [[hasn't been seen since->clarkes10no]].<<set $lucy to "false">>You take the rare step of calling his mother. Normally, all communication goes through the school, but something about this feels different.
She is in pieces, of course. Lashing out at everyone - Isaac, his friend that's involved with the Silent Seekers, the mysterious organisation themselves, you, the school. She hangs up on you.
It is a full day before he is found, boarding [[a train to London->clarkes11no]]. Your unique position allows you to stay in touch, to find out what happened. Isaac was caught in an impossible situation; let Lucy go to London to join the larger Silent Seekers community there, or go with her and continue to attempt to pull her out.
Of course, the longer he spent with them, and the more things he did to keep himself in their good graces, the more his own ideals were eroded. <<set $isaac to "false">>
[[Other specialists take over the case->clarkes7no]].A bouncer stands at the door, her body blocking the dim light from within.
She folds her arms as you approach. "Why are you here?"
You ponder for a moment, heart pounding, long enough that she takes this as an answer.
"We're all here for the same reason. Come, enter in silence," she says, and steps aside.
Whatever this first test was, you passed - [[more by luck than judgement->lucya2]].Just like before, an enforcer stands outside.
She folds her arms. "Why are you here?"
You stay silent.
"We're all here for the same reason. Come, enter in silence."
She stands to the side, and [[you enter->lucyb2]].Just like before, an enforcer stands outside.
She folds her arms. "Why are you here?"
You stay silent.
"We're all here for the same reason. Come, enter in silence."
She stands to the side, and [[you enter->lucyc2]].There is an intense familiarity to the scene. Drapes have been hung up all around, with sleeping pallets lying about. Many are filled with people, some talking quietly, some laying there in composed sleep. There isn't a central area here, though. This is a functional Shelter more than it is a meeting space.
Some of the interior walls have been knocked through or removed entirely, giving the complex a maze-like feeling.
The scent of many people fills the air, makes it heavy with presence, and the quiet sounds of relaxation and sleep [[press around you->lucyc3]].There is an intense familiarity to the scene. Drapes have been hung up all around, with sleeping pallets lying about. Many are filled with people, some talking quietly, some laying there in composed sleep. There isn't a central area here, though. This is a functional shelter more than it is a meeting space.
Some of the interior walls have been knocked through or removed entirely, giving the complex a maze-like feeling.
The scent of many people fills the air, makes it heavy with presence, and the quiet sounds of relaxation and sleep [[press around you->lucyb3]].You're armed with a picture of Lucy. It wasn't hard to obtain, albeit unethical; the unlimited access that schools provide is supposed to be only for your work, but it has its uses.
She isn't in the first set of rooms, or the second.
The third opens up a little to a communal area, and your breath catches in your throat.
She is there.
Not Lucy.
[[Mother Meek->lucyc4]].She turns as you stand there, unsure how to proceed. Only your long association with her allows you to see the brief moment of surprise flickering across her face, then calculation.
Mother smiles.
"Well now, this is a surprise. We were saddened by your departure, but your return erases all sadness. Tell me, have you once again come to take shelter in silence?"
You have only the briefest moment to consider whether to [[get out of the conversation->lucyc5]] or [[engage with Mother Meek->meekseeker]].You back away from her - from the eyes, and the weird influence she exerts over you. She holds your gaze for a moment, and then turns away with a small shrug.
"Another time," she murmurs.
You flee.
Retracing your steps back through the complex, you spot Lucy. She's working behind a table dispensing camomile tea. She looks mostly like the photo; darker circles around her eyes, perhaps, but the same bright smile. She marks your approach and [[holds out a steaming cup->lucyc6]].You take the cup, near enough now that you're sure. It's her.
Introducing yourself casts an immediate shadow over her face.
"You're here because of Isaac, aren't you," she says. She gently nudges someone nearby and hands over her responsibilities. You find a quiet corner in which to chat.
"He's..." She sighs. "In some ways it would be easier if he was my boyfriend. Then I could have broken up with him, made it a definite thing. But because we're just friends, he's got this idea that he has to... save me, or something."
You think back to Isaac and wonder if he would [[agree with her summation->lucyc7]].She gestures around at the commune. "But I'm happy here. I suppose he told you about home. About Dad." A frown crosses her face. "Dad truly doesn't care what I'm doing, and these people here... they're like the family I never had. That I should have had."
She gestures around at the sleepers nearby. "It's about helping people who are worse off, or people who would be worse off if they hadn't found this. Like I once was, honestly. Without Mum... I didn't know what to do. And Dad was no help. "
You follow her as she begins to walk through the corridors as though showing you around. "These people are calm. Welcoming. I work for my tenancy here; I don't pay, not very often. And [[I feel safe here->lucyc8]]."It's impossible not to be impressed with her self-assuredness; no more than fourteen, she speaks with the confidence and clarity of someone twice her age. But you've seen the Silent Seekers, and turned away from it.
As you talk with her, you wonder; should you [[try to convince her to leave->lucyc9]]? Or [[let her make her own choice->lucyc9no]], as you made yours?As you make your excuses and back away, she clutches at your arm.
"Please," she says, "don't tell Isaac. Mother Meek's offered a chance for me to go to the London shelter, and I'm going to take her offer up. I'll tell Dad I'm moving in with a friend or something, he won't care." Her hand drops. "Or tell him, to be honest. It won't change my mind. But... thank you for coming out to speak to me, and check on me. You could get in trouble over it, I suppose, and... it's kind."
A wash of different emotions swirl through you as you back away, leaving Lucy, the apartment complex, and the Seekers far behind.
True to her word, [[Lucy is gone within a week->lucyc10no]].Lucy's frown deepens as you talk about the Seekers, and about the effects they had on your life, and that of $name.
She thrusts her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "I can believe most of what you say," she says. "I've seen it. And I know that it's not 'normal' that someone like me is living like this. Isaac thinks it's dangerous. Maybe he's right."
She gestures vaguely around. "But is any of this 'normal'? To you, the Hum is something that isn't normal. Look at the world; we're still feeling the effects of it, years later. And all the other problems - global warming, war, scarcity - they haven't gone away just because there's a new threat."
You can't help but agree with some of that.
But you came here to either [[try to get her to leave->lucyc10]], or to [[give Isaac some sort of closure->lucycnosave10]] about her choices.Isaac does not take the news well, predictably.
He rails against you, against the system that you represent, against school, parents, Lucy, the Seekers, and himself most of all.
The case goes far above your responsibilities. Police are involved. You manage to hide your involvement in going to the Silent Seekers meeting as a coincidence, but it is a close thing, and you are reassigned.
You lose touch with the Clarke family, and are forced to focus on other things as [[life continues on apace->lucyc11no]].A work colleague gives you the final piece of the story, however.
Isaac's breakdown led to an intervention that improved things for him. The whole story came out - that he was trying to save a friend, someone he perceived as being under threat.
His family got the help they need, and things began to improve - slowly, at first, but surely.<<set $isaac to "true">>
You sleep a little more soundly the night [[you hear of this->clarkes7no]].You see the determined set to her features, even as you make one final attempt to convince her.
"Thank you, but no," she says. "I'm leaving with Mother Meek."<<set $lucy to "false">>
She politely but firmly ends the conversation, leaving you at the door to walk home, [[alone with your thoughts->lucyc10no]].You leave her there. She thanks you very much, and goes back to her assigned job.
You discreetly alert the appropriate authorities without much hope that anything will change. There are more pressing needs than the happiness of two young people.
And so, you are very surprised when, the next time you see him, Isaac has a broad smile on his face.
"Whatever you said to her, it worked," the young man says. "She's made it clear that we're not, ah..." He blushes and you smile understandingly. "But she's not going to London with the Seekers."<<set $isaac to "true">>
You share in Isaac's pleasure and begin to work out how to put his [[life back on track->clarkes7no]].You're armed with a picture of Lucy. It wasn't hard to obtain, albeit unethical; the unlimited access that schools provide is supposed to be only for your work, but it has its uses.
She isn't in the first set of rooms, or the second.
The third opens up a little to a communal area to where a woman is mingling with a couple of others. <<if $mothermeek is 1>>You recognise her; Mother Meek, from your university town's shelter. She looks broadly the same as before - white robe, a little older now. She looks at you but her eyes glance off; she has stuck in your memory, but you have not featured in hers, apparently.<</if>><<if $mothermeek is 0>>You don't recognise her, and as she glances at you there is no flicker of recognition. You bend your eyes back to the search.<</if>>
You spot Lucy, though, in the next room. She's working behind a table dispensing camomile tea. She looks mostly like the photo; darker circles around her eyes, perhaps, but the same bright smile. She marks your approach and [[holds out a steaming cup->lucyb4]].You take the cup, near enough now that you're sure. It's her.
Introducing yourself casts an immediate shadow over her face.
"You're here because of Isaac, aren't you," she says. She gently nudges someone nearby and hands over her responsibilities. You find a quiet corner in which to chat.
"He's..." She sighs. "In some ways it would be easier if he was my boyfriend. Then I could have broken up with him, made it a definite thing. But because we're just friends, he's got this idea that he has to... save me, or something."
You think back to Isaac and wonder if he would [[agree with her summation->lucyb5]].She gestures around at the commune. "But I'm happy here. I suppose he told you about home. About Dad." A frown crosses her face. "Dad truly doesn't care what I'm doing, and these people here... they're like the family I never had. That I should have had."
She gestures around at the sleepers nearby. "It's about helping people who are worse off, or people who would be worse off if they hadn't found this. Like I once was, honestly. Without Mum... I didn't know what to do. And Dad was no help. "
You follow her as she begins to walk through the corridors as though showing you around. "These people are calm. Welcoming. I work for my tenancy here; I don't pay, not very often. And [[I feel safe here->lucyb6]]."It's impossible not to be impressed with her self-assuredness; no more than fourteen, she speaks with the confidence and clarity of someone twice her age. You've at least got some idea about the Silent Seekers, albeit incomplete, but you're not even sure that they're something so terrible, at least not based on your own experiences.
As you talk with her, you wonder; should you [[try to convince her to leave->lucyb7]]? Or [[let her make her own choice->lucyb7no]], as you made yours?As you make your excuses and back away, she clutches at your arm.
"Please," she says, "don't tell Isaac. Mother Meek's offered a chance for me to go to the London shelter, and I'm going to take her offer up. I'll tell Dad I'm moving in with a friend or something, he won't care." Her hand drops. "Or tell him, to be honest. It won't change my mind. But... thank you for coming out to speak to me, and check on me. You could get in trouble over it, I suppose, and... it's kind."
A wash of different emotions swirl through you as you back away, leaving Lucy, the apartment complex, and the Seekers far behind.
True to her word, [[Lucy is gone within a week->lucyb8no]].Lucy's frown deepens as you talk about the Seekers, about your brief time with them, and about $name.
She thrusts her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "It's not very conclusive," she says. "I've seen them at their best. Helping people. Arranging housing for the unhomed. They're welcoming to all, regardless of any factors. I've been living here, basically, for a while - in between school and stuff, sometimes." As she speaks, although she barely raises her voice, she is fiercely intense.
"I'm not stupid - I know I need learning to do well in life. And I know that this isn't 'normal'. Isaac thinks it's dangerous. Maybe he's right." She gestures vaguely around. "But is any of this 'normal'? To you, the Hum is something that isn't normal. Look at the world; we're still feeling the effects of it, years later. And all the other problems - global warming, war, scarcity - they haven't gone away just because there's a new threat."
You can't help but agree with some of that.
But you came here to either [[try to get her to leave->lucyb8]], or to [[give Isaac some sort of closure->lucybnosave8]] about her choices.She opens her arms as though in welcome. Her face is touched a little by age now, but she still seems so warm, so inviting.
"We did wonder what had happened to you," Mother Meek says. "I'm so pleased to see that you're in good health, and that you've returned to us."
Her voice's effect on you is immediate. Emotions war in you; you're not even sure yourself whether you want to [[get angry->meekseekerangry]], or [[beg forgiveness->meekseekerforgive]].You see the determined set to her features, even as you make one final attempt to convince her. You're aware, though, that you only have your own flimsy experiences to draw on, and her mind is made up.
"Thank you, but no," she says. "I'm leaving with Mother Meek."<<set $lucy to "false">>
She politely but firmly ends the conversation, leaving you at the door to walk home, [[alone with your thoughts->lucyb8no]].You leave her there. She thanks you very much, and goes back to her assigned job.
You discreetly alert the appropriate authorities without much hope that anything will change. There are more pressing needs than the happiness of two young people.
And so, you are very surprised when, the next time you see him, Isaac has a broad smile on his face.
"Whatever you said to her, it worked," the young man says. "At least some. She's made it clear that we're not, ah..." He blushes and you smile understandingly. "And she isn't going to stop being at the Seekers. She says she wants to see more about it for herself before making a decision. But she's not going to London with the Seekers, not right now."<<set $isaac to "true">>
You share in Isaac's pleasure and begin to work out how to put his [[life back on track->clarkes7no]].Isaac does not take the news well, predictably.
He rails against you, against the system that you represent, against school, parents, Lucy, the Seekers, and himself most of all.
The case goes far above your responsibilities. Police are involved. You manage to hide your involvement in going to the Silent Seekers meeting as a coincidence, but it is a close thing, and you are reassigned.
You lose touch with the Clarke family, and are forced to focus on other things as [[life continues on apace->lucyb9no]].A work colleague gives you the final piece of the story, however.
Isaac's breakdown led to an intervention that improved things for him. The whole story came out - that he was trying to save a friend, someone he perceived as being under threat.
His family got the help they need, and things began to improve - slowly, at first, but surely.<<set $isaac to "true">>
You sleep a little more soundly the night [[you hear of this->clarkes7no]].The interior is almost comfortable, not at all what you were expecting. Drapes have been hung up all around, with sleeping pallets lying about. Many are filled with people, some talking quietly, some laying there in composed sleep. There isn't a central area here, though. This is a functional space more than it is an area for meetings.
Some of the interior walls have been knocked through or removed entirely, giving the complex a maze-like feeling.
The scent of many people fills the air, makes it heavy with presence, and the quiet sounds of relaxation and sleep [[press around you->lucya3]].You're armed with a picture of Lucy. It wasn't hard to obtain, albeit unethical; the unlimited access that schools provide is supposed to be only for your work, but it has its uses.
She isn't in the first set of rooms, or the second.
The third opens up a little to a communal area to where a woman is mingling with a couple of others. She's medium height, dressed in a simple white robe. Her eyes, though, as she turns them towards you, are piercing. She gives the air of one who is in charge, and you wonder whether she is [[worth asking about Lucy->meek1]].
The passageways beyond open up a little beyond, to a more open area; she could be [[through there->lucya4]]. Or perhaps this is a wasted effort; you feel like an interloper among all these people, and you are rapidly [[losing hope that you should stay->lucya4no]].You back out. You're too adult to call it 'fleeing', but you're intensely aware that you don't know who these people are, that you could be in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out you went looking for Lucy... and then there's what happened with $name.
You abandon the attempt and [[go home->lucya5no]].You pass through into a small communal area and almost immediately spot her. She's working behind a table dispensing camomile tea. She looks mostly like the photo; darker circles around her eyes, perhaps, but the same bright smile. She marks your approach and [[holds out a steaming cup->lucya5]].The woman smiles. "Good evening, seeker. My name is Mother Meek; I don't believe we've had the pleasure."
You introduce yourself, and she begins to walk you gently through the complex.
"You are here looking for something," she says, eyes narrowing slightly. "You look as though you sleep well; this place is a haven for those who cannot, who find the constant monotony of our shared experience an intrusion on their everyday experience. I speak, of course, of the phenomenon called [[the Hum->meek2]]."You check in on Lucy through your contacts, as quietly as possible. She does not reappear; all indications suggest that she has left the county, gone away.
Isaac does not take the news well, predictably.
He rails against you, against the system that you represent, against school, parents, Lucy, the Seekers, and himself most of all.
The case goes far above your responsibilities. Police are involved. You manage to hide your involvement in going to the Silent Seekers meeting as a coincidence, but it is a close thing, and you are reassigned.
You lose touch with the Clarke family, and are forced to focus on other things as [[life continues on apace->lucya6no]].A work colleague gives you the final piece of the story, however.
Isaac's breakdown led to an intervention that improved things for him. The whole story came out - that he was trying to save a friend, someone he perceived as being under threat.
His family got the help they need, and things began to improve - slowly, at first, but surely.<<set $isaac to "true">>
You sleep a little more soundly the night [[you hear of this->clarkes7no]]."Have you ever considered," she continues, "why it exists? This sound, so subtle that many of us don't notice it, day in, day out. But it's there, nonetheless." Mother Meek smiles gently. "Humans are remarkably good at adapting to things. We strive onwards, working round shortcomings and pitfalls. But tell me: have you ever had your ears blocked? Maybe on a plane, or at the top of a particularly tall hill?"
You are caught somewhat unaware by this question, but she goes on. "And you haven't even noticed until it clears. The sound has been distorted all that time, muffled, pitched up or down. The moment it clears, you feel... enlightened. As if you're hearing for the first time, with newborn ears."
She gestures around at the sleepers nearby. "These people, they are all seeking that same moment. The chance to hear, properly, for the first time in a long time. To hear the truth that is being muffled, hidden from us. [[I suspect you wonder, what truth->meek3]]?""Until we are able to clear our ears, that truth will remain hidden. But one thing is certain: this sound, this Hum, is being inflicted on us by those in power to keep us subservient. It is just another in a long line of tools. Lack of knowledge; lack of money; little distractions, just enough to keep us preoccupied, while those with the knowledge, the money, the power, live a life that we should all have access to."
She clasps her hands together and bows her head slightly. "You seem a capable sort. If you feel that there is a great injustice here, perhaps [[you should join us->meekyes4]]. But if not, you are [[welcome to stay the night->meekno4]]."You indicate that you would like to learn more, and Mother Meek smiles again.
"Come, then," she says. "Come and learn from us. Seek the truth."
She ushers you into [[a back room->Seekersadult1]].She nods as you make your excuses. "Another time, perhaps," she murmurs. "Now, if you'll excuse me, others who seek the truth need my attention."
Mother Meek turns and leaves, and you bend your search [[back towards Lucy->lucya4]].You take the cup, near enough now that you're sure. It's her.
Introducing yourself casts an immediate shadow over her face.
"You're here because of Isaac, aren't you," she says. She gently nudges someone nearby and hands over her responsibilities. You find a quiet corner in which to chat.
"He's..." She sighs. "In some ways it would be easier if he was my boyfriend. Then I could have broken up with him, made it a definite thing. But because we're just friends, he's got this idea that he has to... save me, or something."
You think back to Isaac and wonder if he would [[agree with her summation->lucya6]].She gestures around at the commune. "But I'm happy here. I suppose he told you about home. About Dad." A frown crosses her face. "Dad truly doesn't care what I'm doing, and these people here... they're like the family I never had. That I should have had."
She gestures around at the sleepers nearby. "It's about helping people who are worse off, or people who would be worse off if they hadn't found this. Like I once was, honestly. Without Mum... I didn't know what to do. And Dad was no help. "
You follow her as she begins to walk through the corridors as though showing you around. "These people are calm. Welcoming. I work for my tenancy here; I don't pay, not very often. And [[I feel safe here->lucya7]]."It's impossible not to be impressed with her self-assuredness; no more than fourteen, she speaks with the confidence and clarity of someone twice her age. You've at least got some idea about the Silent Seekers, albeit incomplete, but you're not even sure that they're something so terrible, at least not based on your own experiences.
As you talk with her, you wonder; should you [[try to convince her to leave->lucya8]]? Or [[let her make her own choice->lucya8no]], as you made yours?As you make your excuses and back away, she clutches at your arm.
"Please," she says, "don't tell Isaac. Mother Meek's offered a chance for me to go to the London shelter, and I'm going to take her offer up. I'll tell Dad I'm moving in with a friend or something, he won't care." Her hand drops. "Or tell him, to be honest. It won't change my mind. But... thank you for coming out to speak to me, and check on me. You could get in trouble over it, I suppose, and... it's kind."
A wash of different emotions swirl through you as you back away, leaving Lucy, the apartment complex, and the Seekers far behind.<<set $lucy to "false">>
True to her word, [[Lucy is gone within a week->lucya9no]].As you try to convince her to leave, you are aware that you've got very little on which to base your argument. She is clearly a reasonable person, and far more articulate than many of the young people you have come into contact with.
Her frown deepens slightly as you talk about $name's experiences, but even those are second-hand, and it's hard to frame them correctly without context.
She thrusts her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "It's not very conclusive," she says. "I've seen them at their best. Helping people. Arranging housing for the unhomed. They're welcoming to all, regardless of any factors. I've been living here, basically, for a while - in between school and stuff, sometimes." As she speaks, although she barely raises her voice, she is fiercely intense.
"I'm not stupid - I know I need learning to do well in life. And I know that this isn't 'normal'. Isaac thinks it's dangerous. Maybe he's right." She gestures vaguely around. "But is any of this 'normal'? To you, the Hum is something that isn't normal. Look at the world; we're still feeling the effects of it, years later. And all the other problems - global warming, war, scarcity - they haven't gone away just because there's a new threat."
You can't help but agree with some of that.
But you came here to either [[try to get her to leave->lucya9]], or to [[give Isaac some sort of closure->lucyanosave9]] about her choices.Isaac does not take the news well, predictably.
He rails against you, against the system that you represent, against school, parents, Lucy, the Seekers, and himself most of all.
The case goes far above your responsibilities. Police are involved. You manage to hide your involvement in going to the Silent Seekers meeting as a coincidence, but it is a close thing, and you are reassigned.
You lose touch with the Clarke family, and are forced to focus on other things as [[life continues on apace->lucya10no]].A work colleague gives you the final piece of the story, however.
Isaac's breakdown led to an intervention that improved things for him. The whole story came out - that he was trying to save a friend, someone he perceived as being under threat.
His family got the help they need, and things began to improve - slowly, at first, but surely.<<set $isaac to "true">>
You sleep a little more soundly the night [[you hear of this->clarkes7no]].You see the determined set to her features, even as you make one final attempt to convince her.
"Thank you, but no," she says. "I'm leaving with Mother Meek."<<set $lucy to "false">>
She politely but firmly ends the conversation, leaving you at the door to walk home, [[alone with your thoughts->lucya9no]].You leave her there. She thanks you very much, and goes back to her assigned job.
You discreetly alert the appropriate authorities without much hope that anything will change. There are more pressing needs than the happiness of two young people.
And so, you are very surprised when, the next time you see him, Isaac has a broad smile on his face.
"Whatever you said to her, it worked," the young man says. "At least some. She's made it clear that we're not, ah..." He blushes and you smile understandingly. "And she isn't going to stop being at the shelter. She says she wants to see more about it for herself before making a decision. But she's not going to London with the Seekers, not right now."<<set $isaac to "true">>
You share in Isaac's pleasure and begin to work out how to put his [[life back on track->clarkes7no]].<<nobr>><<set $lucy to "false">><<set $isaac to "false">>You are tasked with simple things at first. Things that operate around your work schedule, your home life.
<br><br>
This shelter operates in a different way, you're told. Here, mostly, people just sleep. There is no centre for activities in the wider community. But you spend more time there, getting to know the regulars, and soon Mother is asking you to become more active. <<if $seekerslevel is 0>>You stay at the shelter occasionally, feigning work events. Often, it is pointed out to you that the walls contain some of the technology that the Seekers have been developing, designed to baffle the Hum somewhat. You're not sure you can detect the difference, but it definitely seems to help some of the more sensitive attendees.<br><br>
You hand out leaflets; attend rallies; encourage friends and colleagues to look inward for their truth, always careful to be subtle in your approach.<</if>><<if $seekerslevel is 2>>Almost immediately, you feel at home again. You get involved in the everyday activism of the Seekers, building up the shelter and encouraging others to get involved - with subtlety, of course.<</if>>
<br><br>
You don't see Lucy; you ask about her, but she has apparently gone to London, to the main shelter there. Tasked for greater things, is the phrase used.
<br><br>
<<if $relationship is "true">>You hope that you are [[tasked for greater things->Seekersadult2partner]].<</if>><<if $relationship is "false">>You hope that you are [[tasked for greater things->Seekersadult3]]<</if>><</nobr>>Her expression is beauty itself as you blurt out how sorry you were to have left. All of the unsaid regret you have for leaving the fold, leaving the community that you had helped build up, pours out.
Mother Meek steps forward and embraces you gently.
"You are forgiven, of course," she murmurs.
She steps back. "Come. We have much to do."
She ushers you into [[a back room->Seekersadult1]].You raise your voice, drawing eyes from all over. In a heartbeat, her eyes become flint-hard, and her lips thin to a firm line.
"That's quite enough of that," she says. "You are disturbing those who seek quiet."
It isn't enough. A great catharsis washes through you as you rail at Mother over your lost time, lost opportunities. Relative to the rest of your life, your time with the Seekers was brief, but impactful.
A hand grasps your arm firmly. You cut off what you're saying as you see that the bouncer from outside has appeared. You consider Lucy; [[you came here to do a job->meekseekerangry3]]. But this could be your last chance to [[tell Mother Meek how you really feel->meekseekerangry2]].<<nobr>><<if $partnerexperience is 1>>$partner almost immediately catches on, and is firm. They've seen this before. You either [[leave the Seekers->Seekersadultleave]], or [[leave them->Seekersadult3partner]].<</if>><<if $partnerexperience is 0>>$partner takes a while to catch on, but eventually realises that something is up. Several long, tearful conversations follow as the story spills out - that you're exploring life as a Silent Seeker. <br><br>
They take some time to think about it, but their answer, when it comes, is firm. You either [[leave the Seekers->Seekersadultleave]], or [[end your relationship->Seekersadult3partner]].<</if>>
<</nobr>>You perform well; your work and training has prepared you well for understanding the way minds work, for developing and breaking down behaviours. You become a model citizen of the shelter, and it is no surprise to anyone when Mother Meek invites you to join her in London.
There is a much larger shelter there, one where important work is being done. The source of the Hum may have been discovered, and could be neutralised.
This causes much excitement, and you don't hesitate to sign up. After all, you've already devoted yourself fully to the cause by this point; [[what do you have to lose->Seekersadult4]]?<<set $seekers to "true">><<nobr>><<if $seekerslevel is 0>>You emerge from the microcosm of the Seekers like a swimmer breaking the surface after too long spent underwater.
<br><br>
You are lucky. Nothing of value has been lost; you are able to return to your life relatively easily, passing any prolonged absences off as a bout of persistent illness.
<br><br><<set $partnercult to "false">>
You get back to [[your regular life->clarkes7no]].<</if>>
<<if $seekerslevel is 2>>You look back over the years, at your choices, and wonder how you managed to get drawn in a second time.
<br><br><<set $partnercult to "false">>
You are lucky. Nothing of value has been lost; you are able to return to your life relatively easily, passing any prolonged absences off as a bout of persistent illness.
<br><br>
You get back to [[your regular life->clarkes7no]].<</if>><</nobr>>You part ways with $partner. They can't seem to understand - that there are deeper truths here, more basic truths even than love.<<set $relationship to "false">>
You start spending more time [[at the shelter->Seekersadult3]].Mother Meek travels down separately. Sure enough, the London operation is much sturdier. They operate out of an old Tube station, stating the obvious truth that the depth of the tunnels, and the amount of stone and soil above, help diminish the deleterious effects of the Hum.
You see the Sleep Pods. Much talked-about, the pods are like science-fiction medical beds, with a clear plastic cover over them. Mother Meek supervises while you sit in one, just to test it out.
There's no immediate difference, even as she closes the cover. Perhaps a slight lessening in the sound...?
Mother Meek laughs that joyful laugh as you tell her this. "It wasn't switched on, of course. But there they are." She touches your cheek gently. "Keep up the work you've been doing and you'll be sleeping in one of those before too long."
[[You continue your work->Seekersadult5]].<<nobr>><<if $saved is "false">>You are overjoyed to find $name waiting for you one day as you return to the shelter. They are older, more self-assured, and somehow calmer.
<br><br>
You embrace, and in the tightness of that embrace you hear them murmuring.
<br><br>
"[[Welcome home->Seekersadult6a]]."<</if>>
<<if $saved is "true">>Weeks turn into months. As you look back over your life, before the Seekers, you wonder at it. You were living a sort of half-life, a shadow life; this is the true path. You regret that you wasted so many years before this.
<br><br>
You work closely with Mother Meek, [[waiting for your moment->Seekersadult6]].<</if>><</nobr>>Study into the Hum continues, without much progress; of course not, Mother Meek points out. The government funding that research is keeping people busy, keeping eyes off the truth.
The Hum is old news now; there are new things. New wars. New viruses. New discoveries. For most, it becomes what it is - background noise, keeping them docile, keeping them in line. For you, it is a guiding light, reminding you of why you fight.
Mother Meek comes to you one evening as you sit in your private quarters in the London shelter. You live here pretty much full time now. Your family thinks your work brought you here, although you're not really in any kind of contact with them.
"[[Something big is happening tomorrow,->Seekersadult7]]" Mother says."One of our most trusted operatives has discovered what we have sought for so long," she continues. "The source. We're going to shut it down."
This is big, and you find yourself holding your breath.
She lays a hand on your shoulder. "You are going to be the object of our deliverance. We have developed a device that operates on the same principles as the Silence Pods. Your job will be to deliver this device to a particular address and leave it to do its work." Mother smiles. "It's designed to release an electromagnetic pulse at certain intervals and frequencies that will fatally interrupt the Hum's transmission. And I am trusting you with it."
You have trouble sleeping that night, for the first time in a long time. But it's [[excitement, not worry->Seekersadult8]], that keeps you up.The next day, you are early for your mission.
"This is it," Mother Meek says. She is older now, matronly, but still kindly. She is stood next to a wooden crate ready to be loaded into a van. "It's simple. This merely needs to be next to the facility for a few hours and it will have done its job. You don't even need to stay with it."
She outlines the plan. The facility is a nondescript place - some sort of government think-tank - and the crate doesn't even need to be opened. "In fact," she says, "the delicate machinery inside could be upset if you open it. Be careful on the drive over, and then just walk away."
[[You help load the van->Seekersadult9]].The facility is easy to find, and you park the van up.
You open the back door, just to check the crate hasn't been upset.
The crate is cracked open a little, the lid dislodged, and you bite back a curse. [[Checking on it->Seekersadult10check]] might be a good idea, but Mother did say to [[leave it alone->Seekersadult10leave]].You peer into the crate.
It is unmistakable what this device is. You've seen bombs before, in films, on TV.
You bite your lip, indecisive. If this goes off, it will destroy the building you've parked next to, at least. If you call it in, there will be consequences. Your phone is in your hand, almost unconsciously, as you decide whether to [[call the police->Seekersadult11]] or to [[let things play out->Seekersadult10leave]].[[You walk away->Years6SSold]].It takes no time at all for the police to catch you. An hour at most, and you're shocked with the level of force they bring - SWAT team, armed, full gear. You are having a coffee at a local shop when they grab you.
They sling you into a van.
Your interrogation takes hours. You're informed that you're being held under the Terrorism Act; you can be held without charge for fourteen days.
[[It takes them only five to charge you->Years7SSold]].The device was an explosive, small yield, but enough to destroy significant parts of the building it was parked against. The real target, though, were the computers in the building - part of the UK's cyber-crime division.
The case is dragged out over the newspapers for weeks. Mother Meek - in reality Valentina Petrovka - is revealed to be a Russian operative. She is involved in extensive criminal activity, particularly involving illicit use of electronics, and cryptocurrency-related thefts, including one at a 'research facility' you remember vividly. Her assets have been seized; all shelters shut down, and the Silent Seekers dissolved. Mother Meek is not apprehended, but leaves messages vowing revenge and the end of the Hum.
You protest all this, of course, but [[from inside a cell->Years8SSold]].You are kept separate from much of the prison population; 'a threat to the peaceful operation of the establishment' is the official line.<<set $prison to "true">><<set $adultseeker to "true">>
So it is that you are in your cell when [[it finally happens->Years9SS]].You call it in as a bomb threat.
The operator on the other end wants to know more details, of course - name, phone number - but you've seen movies and TV series about this. If you don't stay on the line long, they can't [[triangulate your position->Seekersadult12]].It takes almost no time for the police to catch up with you. You were as careful as you could be, but they were quicker.
You give yourself up peacefully.
The bomb is neutralised. There are no casualties.
And the long discussion about [[your future begins->Seekersadult13]].It's difficult at first, readjusting. Your family help, although they are old. Several other Seekers spend time in prison for their acts.
You find a job - not the career you once hoped you might have, but a good sturdy job that pays the bills.
You find it difficult to sleep alone, so you rent a house together with a couple of other ex-Seekers. You enjoy the quiet sense of companionship.
And so, you are not alone [[on that day->Years9SSOPEN]].<<set $adultseeker to "Charlie">>You cooperate fully. Under the Terrorism Act, you could have been held for two weeks without charge. With the information you give them, they hold you for only two days.
You listen with mounting horror as [[things pile up->Seekersadult14]].The device was an explosive, small yield, but enough to destroy significant parts of the building it was parked against. The real target, though, were the computers in the building - part of the UK's cyber-crime division.
The case is dragged out over the newspapers for weeks. Mother Meek - in reality Valentina Petrovka - is revealed to be a Russian operative. She is involved in extensive cryptocurrency-related thefts, including one at a 'research facility' you remember vividly. Her assets have been seized; all shelters shut down, and the Silent Seekers dissolved. Mother Meek is not apprehended, but leaves messages vowing revenge and the end of the Hum.
You escape with community service and, after a while, are able to [[go back to a relatively normal life->Seekersadult15]].<<set $prison to "false">>There are things to do. Everyone needs a little support in the post-Hum world, and you were nothing if not a social person. You explore charitable work - so similar to the Seekers in action, albeit kinder in tone. The post-Hum world is one of opportunity, for both young and old. You worried that you might be lonely in your older years, but there is more than enough to keep you busy. $name will need help rebuilding.
And in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The True Seeker">>You pour everything into an impassioned speech while Mother Meek watches dispassionately.
When you are done, she folds her arms. "I think," Mother Meek says, "that it's time for you to leave."
You are ejected, firmly and finally.<<set $lucy to "false">>
You abandon the attempt and [[go home->lucya5no]].Reluctantly, you swallow your anger and back away from her - from the eyes, and the weird influence she exerts over you. She holds your gaze for a moment, and then turns away with a small shrug.
"Another time," she murmurs.
You flee.
Retracing your steps back through the complex, you spot Lucy. She's working behind a table dispensing camomile tea. She looks mostly like the photo; darker circles around her eyes, perhaps, but the same bright smile. She marks your approach and [[holds out a steaming cup->lucyc6]].You watch all this from the autumn of your patchwork life. You've gone through a revolution of your own, in concert with the world, and you are a different person for it.
You mourn the lifelong friendship that might have been with $name, and the relationship that could have been with $partner. Ultimately, you sacrificed both to seek deeper truth and meaning, and although you were eventually able to find $name again, it was only after a long time apart. Only you can know whether it was [[a worthwhile choice to make->Adult Seeker, good ending]].<<set $namelatesave to "true">><<nobr>>With those from the pre-Hum days too old to seize back the reins of power, the world becomes a sharper, spikier place for a long time. Tempers flare easily, both on a micro and macro scale.
<br><br>
<<if $prison is "true">>[[And you...->prisonAdultSeeker]]<</if>>
<<if $prison is "false">>[[And you...->AdultSeeker]]<</if>><</nobr>>Months become years. You rise through the ranks, although never quite to the Inner Circle. There always seems to be one more rank between you and that vaunted position, but [[you have faith->Seekersadult7a]].<<set $adultseeker to "true">>Study into the Hum continues, without much progress; of course not, Mother Meek points out. The government funding that research is keeping people busy, keeping eyes off the truth.
The Hum is old news now; there are new things. New wars. New viruses. New discoveries. For most, it becomes what it is - background noise, keeping them docile, keeping them in line. For you, it is a guiding light, reminding you of why you fight.
$name comes to you one evening as you sit in your private quarters in the London shelter. You live here pretty much full time now. Your family thinks you rent with friends.
"[[Something big is happening tomorrow,->AYears2SS]]" your friend says."Dad's found where it is," $name continues. "The source. We're going to shut it down."
This is big. You remember George, of course, but you haven't him for years - apparently he leads a team now, and it keeps him busy.
"You and me; there's a device that helps shut it down. Shut down the Hum. It's the same tech they use in the Silence Pods."
$name leans forward. "They let me sleep in one." Their face becomes suffused by calm, by peace. "It was... incredible. This thing is real."
You have trouble sleeping that night, for the first time in a long time. But it's [[excitement, not worry->AYears3SS]], that keeps you up.The next day, you are early for your mission.
"This is it," Mother Meek says. She is older now, matronly, but still kindly. She is stood next to a wooden crate ready to be loaded into a van. "It's simple. This merely needs to be next to the facility for a few hours and it will have done its job. You don't even need to stay with it."
She outlines the plan. The facility is a nondescript place - some sort of government think-tank - and the crate doesn't even need to be opened. "In fact," she says, "the delicate machinery inside could be upset if you open it. Be careful on the drive over, and then just walk away." She smiles at $name. "Soon, you can both sleep as peacefully as $name did last night."
[[You help load the van->AYears4SS]].The facility is easy to find, and you park the van up.
$name gets out and opens the back door, just to check the crate hasn't been upset.
The crate is cracked open a little, the lid dislodged, and you hear them swear.
"[[Leave it. It'll either work or it won't.->AYears5SS]]"
"[[Better check it over - can't hurt, it's open already.->AYears5SSOPEN]]"[[You walk away->AYears6SS]].$name calls you, but you step into the van. It bobs slightly under your weight, and you carefully peer in.
It's like something out of a bad TV programme, or a spy movie. There are glowing lights, wires everywhere,, a power source, and...
A timer. Ticking, counting down.
$name comes up to look at it with you.
"That looks like [[something we should be concerned about.->AYears5SSOPEN2]]"It takes no time at all for the police to catch you. An hour at most, and you're shocked with the level of force they bring - SWAT team, armed, full gear. You are having a coffee at a local shop when they grab you.
They sling you into a van. $name is already there.
Your interrogation takes hours. You're informed that you're being held under the Terrorism Act; you can be held without charge for fourteen days.
[[It takes them only five to charge you->AYears7SS]].The device was an explosive, small yield, but enough to destroy significant parts of the building it was parked against. The real target, though, were the computers in the building - part of the UK's cyber-crime division.
The case is dragged out over the newspapers for weeks. Mother Meek - in reality Valentina Petrovka - is revealed to be a Russian operative. She is involved in extensive criminal activity, particularly involving illicit use of electronics, and cryptocurrency-related thefts, including one at a 'research facility' you remember vividly. Her assets have been seized; all shelters shut down, and the Silent Seekers dissolved. Mother Meek is not apprehended, but leaves messages vowing revenge and the end of the Hum.
You protest all this, of course, but [[from inside a cell->AYears8SS.]].They kept you and $name separate.
You never saw them again.
And you are in your cell when [[it finally happens->AYears9SS]].[[The Hum stops->Chaos1]]. <<set $prison to "true">> <<audio "hum" stop>>You have a heated discussion back and forth for a moment. $name tries to argue it out - there must be a reason for this, they say. The greater good.
Your mind has gone to a much darker place about this ticking, humming device in the back of the van.
[[You let your friend persuade you->AYears4SSNO]].
[[You call it in, anonymously->AYears5SSOPEN3]]."There's no way it can be a bomb - the Silent Seekers are a peaceful organisation," $name says, and you agree. You close the van again [[and walk away->AYears6SS]].No matter how much $name tries to stop you, you call it in as a bomb threat.
The operator on the other end wants to know more details, of course - name, phone number - but you've seen movies and TV series about this. If you don't stay on the line long, they can't [[triangulate your position->AYears5SSOPEN4]].It takes almost no time for the police to catch up with you. You were as careful as you could be, but they were quicker.
You give yourself up peacefully.
The bomb is neutralised. There are no casualties.
And the long discussion about [[your future - both of you - begins->AYears 6SSOPEN]].You cooperate fully. Under the Terrorism Act, you could have been held for two weeks without charge. With the information you give them, they hold you for only two days.
$name follows your lead, grudgingly at first, and with mounting horror as [[things pile up->AYears7SSOPEN]].The device was an explosive, small yield, but enough to destroy significant parts of the building it was parked against. The real target, though, were the computers in the building - part of the UK's cyber-crime division.
The case is dragged out over the newspapers for weeks. Mother Meek - in reality Valentina Petrovka - is revealed to be a Russian operative. She is involved in extensive cryptocurrency-related thefts, including one at a 'research facility' you remember vividly. Her assets have been seized; all shelters shut down, and the Silent Seekers dissolved. Mother Meek is not apprehended, but leaves messages vowing revenge and the end of the Hum.
You escape with community service and, after a while, are able to [[go back to a relatively normal life->AYears8SSOPEN.]].It's difficult at first, readjusting. Your family help, although they are old. George, $name's father, spends time in prison for his 'missions'.
Both of you find jobs - not the careers you once hoped you might have. Not a psychology professor or researcher, not a film director or actor, but good sturdy jobs that pays the bills.
You find it difficult, both of you, to sleep alone, so you rent a house together. There's nothing romantic in it; just a quiet sense of companionship.
And so, you are together [[on that day->AYears9SSOPEN]]. <<set $prison to "false">>[[The Hum stops->Chaos1]]. <<audio "hum" stop>>You watch all this from within prison walls, waiting out your time. When you are released, it is into the world that you helped craft. You have your health, although many years have passed. You were lucky - the Hum hadn't burrowed so deeply into your psyche that its tendrils could destroy you, as so many others had died. $name is out too - their release was finalised over six months ago.
Mother Meek is out there somewhere, replete on her success of ending the threat the Hum represented, and she would need help in [[this new world->Silent Seeker Bad Ending]]"I'm fine," $name says. "I've watched a lot of movies. Read a lot. Mum took me to the cinema a couple of nights ago - said she wanted to treat me. But it was really hard to concentrate on the film. And it was weird without Dad."
Tears sparkle in $name's eyes and for the first time, that defensive exterior shows cracks. For a moment, you think about whether you should [[offer them a hug->FirstWeekConvoHug]], maybe [[share your breaktime sweets with them->FirstWeekConvoShare]] to take their mind off it, or maybe [[tease them, in that joking way you sometimes do->FirstWeekConvoBuck]], but all that feels awkward and [[leaving them alone is easier->FirstWeekConvoSilent]].<<nobr>>With those from the pre-Hum days too old to seize back the reins of power, the world becomes a sharper, spikier place for a long time. Tempers flare easily, both on a micro and macro scale.
<br><br>
You do not initially seek out $name, perhaps from a sense of guilt over how your life went. [[They find you, though->AdultSeekerCharlie]].<</nobr>>You watch all this alongside $name, who you see regularly as they help you try to get past your experiences. You still have your health, albeit not the full career that once you might have hoped for. You were lucky; the Hum wasn't so integral to your own experience as to so many others. And when you consider how close you came to disaster, it's a miracle that everything turned out ok.
Things could have gone so horribly wrong for you, [[but for one choice->Silent Seeker Good Ending2]].You settle into a life marred by what could have been, and saved by what wasn't. Your life enters a phase of slower, more deliberate choices, and of caring for yourself. $name helps out where they can. Your friends rally round you, when they could so easily have abandoned you.
And in your unguarded moments, you find yourself quietly filling the space between heartbeats with [[the gentle sound of humming...->Credits]]
<<set $ending to "The Liberated Seeker">><<set $saved ="true">><<nobr>><<if $baby is "true">>Your own $gender suffered a minor mental breakdown. By now, they worked in an office, and thankfully one with good health insurance. You stayed by their bedside for two nights until they regained enough of themselves to realise, and it was another week before they were allowed home to rest.<br><br><</if>>
There is a sharp rise in artificial hummers - devices that fill homes and earbuds with the constant hum they were so used to. Like drug withdrawal, it diminishes the effects for a while. It is never the same, though.<br><br>
Some declare they can still hear it, similar to Phantom Limb Syndrome.<br><br>
[[Things are not all bad, though->Postscript3]].<</nobr>><<nobr>>Isaac watches you as you ponder your approach.
<br><br>
<<if $lucychat is not 1>>[[Ask about Lucy->about lucy]].<br><</if>><<if $explainchat is not 1>>[[Ask why he hasn't explained before->explanation]].<br><</if>><<if $whatchat is not 1>>[[Ask what he's been doing about it->whatdo]].<br><</if>>
[[Move the conversation on->clarkes7]].<</nobr>>Other cases take your attention; in any given day, you might have five or six to look at, to visit, to write reports on. It's a few days before you're able to get back in touch with Isaac's school.
The news is not good. Isaac got into a fight the day after you spoke to him - a scuffle with a teacher, of all things. He jumped the fence and escaped, and [[hasn't been seen since->clarkes6no]].<<set $lucy to "false">>