Monday, August 18, 2008

Uncharted Territory

One of the main objectives of the new ISP "information pipeline" is to establish contact with Fleet Admiral Joe Boyle, last seen adrift somewhere in the South Pacific, aiding a sea creature in need. The problem with our aim is this - Connecting with someone through the ISP is a tricky process, one requiring a great deal of skill, global positioning know-how, and a general knowledge of where the target person is. We're 0 for 3.

At this point, our intel on Boyle has been reduced to the message-in-a-bottle variety. Literally. Every three or four days we receive a missive scrunched up into a Chilean wine bottle, or some such thing, with a cryptic message that's been scrawled on a bar napkin, etched into wood chips, or in one case, watermarked on the sails of a tiny model ship. Here are a few examples to give you an idea what we're working with:

Swimming upon the Devil's lake. Right next to the Devil's ranch house. Nice horsies.

If planning to sit upon the setting sun, bring some water.

Lucky numbers are 13, 43, 64, 88, eleventy-seven.
The Devil's lake and the setting sun? Land of the setting sun? Boyle could be in the mountains of Tibet by now, a man of his resources. He could be in Tokyo. Dublin. Kenya. Hell, he could be hiding in the back row of this senate subcommittee.

He could be disguised as the clock.

To our not-so-credit.... to our uncredit, to be grammatically esuphegent, we're thwarted by the Admiral himself. He could be leading us along with these messages in bottles, in some messages-in-a-bottle-on-a-stick mind games. And the Gulf Stream could be a little more cooperative. Someone in Greenland is getting some other pieces of the puzzle, and God help us if they get their hands on a corner piece. We're going to need a bigger net... and see if you can't find the cover of the box while you're at it.

I can only assume the hobo's name is Steven.

One bottle we received contained this record, rolled into a perfect tube. The album, when extracted, popped open, blooming like a beautiful vinyl flower, completely intact and sounding like this:

Primary sources can be found here: CatStevens_The_Wind.mp3

We'll need every recruit's help with this one. Boyle is out there operating without any decent restraint, totally beyond the pale of any acceptable human conduct. Or he could be, you know... drinking mojitos. Either way, we need more ammo - send your own munitions and submissions to

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