tanisisdreaming

[tanisisdreaming]

Episode 102: Radio, Radio

Part 2 of 2

[voice of Nic]: sorry it took me a while to pick up, I’m actually driving.

MK: Okay. Are you cool to talk?

Nic: Yeah! I’m hands-free.

MK: Well that’s great.

Nic: Ha, okay.

MK: I found something you might be interested in.

Nic: What is it?

MK: Okay well I had a few bots trolling some Russian and eastern European bitbuckets for the word ‘Tanis,’

Nic: Okay…

MK: I got a hit this morning. It might be nothing, it’s a few weeks old, um but somebody in Kiev posted something to a now defunct bulletin board.

Nic: Uh, what was the post about?

MK: Some guy looking for his sister.

Nic: Some guy looking for his sister?

MK: Yeah.

Nic: I don’t understand.

MK: Okay, well apparently this Canadian guy living in Kiev named Sam Reynolds’ sister went missing, she was working for the…uh, hold on…Tesla Nova Corporation on some kind of top secret project?

Nic: Oh, well that’s interesting.

MK: Yeah. Somebody posted the word ‘Tanis’ in response to his last message. And then, of course, it was deleted right away.

Nic: They deleted the response right away?

MK: They deleted the entire message board.

Nic: Wow.

MK: Yeah. It looks like Reynolds posted three times before the board was disabled.

Nic: Could you send me those messages?

MK: Yeah, I did it.

Nic: You did it?

MK: Yeah.

Nic: Oh! Well thanks, great.

MK: No, there’s more, hold on.

Nic: Okay

MK: Three audio files were uploaded as well.

Nic: If you don’t mind sending those over when you get a chance, that would be awesome.

MK: Already done.

Nic: Great! Well, thanks a lot.

MK: Nothing to it. Later.

 Meerkatnip was turning into an invaluable resource. Both the message board posts and the voice messages were waiting for me when I got back to the office. I’ll be reading the posts by Sam Reynolds, and I’ve recruited Alex Reagen again, to read the posts from his missing sister. The messages that prompted Sam Reynolds to track down this message board and reach out, in the first place.

 [Nic, reading Sam Reynolds’ messages]: I’m posting here because I don’t know where else to turn. It all started with an email I received from my sister. Her name’s Tara Reynolds. And she’s been working up near Seattle. She was contracted by Tesla Nova Corporation more than a year ago, kind of a retainer situation. About a month or so ago, she finally received a call. There’s quite a bit of security and secrecy surrounding the project, so her messages have been limited, and monitored. She’s an archeologist specializing in new energy, so a bit of security isn’t all that unusual for her. Here’s her first message:

[voice of Alex Reagen, reading Tara Reynolds’ email]: From: Tara Reynolds. Tuesday, June 8th, 2015, 11:57 am. Subject: You’ll get a kick out of this.

Hey, kid. I talked to Steph last night. She bought a sailboat. Crazy. I can’t wait to make fun of her when it sits there unused for three years. I hope you’re well. I miss you. Things are getting pretty interesting up here. Exciting. Although, the bugs would drive you crazy. I won’t be able to communicate as much as I’d like, they took our phones this morning. And after tomorrow, we’re only allowed one hour of monitored internet each week. But it’s a fair trade. You wouldn’t believe the funding. We’ve got everything. The food is amazing. Better than any other placement. Better than the cryptography training institution outside Paris, if you can believe it. This is post-grad living at its best. Talk soon. Love you, Tara.

[Nic, reading Sam Reynolds’ messages]: the next message came a few days later.

[Alex, reading Tara Reynolds’ email]: No way you’re going to believe this. You know how I told you we’re not allowed phones, cameras, or recording devices of any kind? Well, I kind of made a pinhole camera out of one of those mini cereal boxes. Frosted Flakes style. I’ve attached a photo I took with the cereal camera to this message. This is probably the last email you’ll receive from me for a while. They stepped up security around the area as soon as the cabin appeared. Out of nowhere, by the way, I’m not kidding. One day the woods are empty, the next day, a tiny old wooden cabin. Some kind of rare hardwood too, I heard the experts mumbling something about it, but all the senior team members are Russian. My Russian is pretty far from outstanding, as I’m sure you remember. I can’t wait to sit down in a pub and tell you all about it. They outlawed anything with a camera, so the guards all carry old flip phones. There’s one guy who leaves his coat unattended for hours. I’m sure his phone is in his pocket. If I can get his phone, I’ll give you a call. If I can’t get a signal, I’m pretty sure that phone has a voice recorder. I had the same one in high school. I’ll try and send you an audio file. Anyway, this is awesome. You’re going to lose your mind. Love you.

 We uploaded the photo Tara took from her cereal box pinhole camera to our website in our notes section. Sam says he didn’t hear anyting from his sister for a few weeks, and then…this.

 [voice of Alex reading Tara Reynolds’ email]: Hey Sam. I hope you got my picture. It’s been crazy. I couldn’t get away. I stole the guard’s phone, but I was almost caught. It was close. We’ve only been allowed sporadic access to the cabin, mainly to examine some ancient text carved into the floor and walls. It’s amazing. I wish I had a camera. A video camera would have been perfect. But it’s too late now. The cabin disappeared. We woke up and it was just…gone.

 A few days later, another message.

 [voice of Alex reading Tara Reynolds’ email]: Something is happening. It didn’t disappear. It moved. It took a few days, but they were able to track it somehow. A man just arrived this morning, an American. Apparently he’s been working with the Russians for a while. He seems to know a lot about whatever this is, whatever’s happening. It looks like he’s in charge of the whole operation now. He’s smart, and also not that hard to look at. He has some kind of electronic device he consults. Im guessing he’s using that to track the cabin somehow. The theoretical science they’re looking at here is bonkers. I’ve seen some things up here…you wouldn’t believe it. I don’t believe it.

 Then nothing for a week, until…

 [voice of Alex reading Tara Reynolds’ email]: It’s insane. There’s so many people here now. They don’t trust each other, and I don’t think they trust any of the outsiders. I’m scared. I can’t even walk to the food tent without an armed escort. I’m still working on one of the guards. Sometimes they leave their bags when they shower. I might be able to get the phone, but I don’t know for sure. They definitely have some way of at least guessing where this thing might end up. ‘This thing’ being the cabin. If what I overheard yesterday is true, which is unlikely because it sounds nutso, they’ve been tracking this thing for ages. All over the state. Part of me can’t wait for this contract to end, but, and this may sound crazy, I really want to get back in. To examine those markings.

 Sam tells us that the next three messages he received were blank. But each had a brief audio file attached. We’re going to play them in order. This is the first message:

 [voice of Tara Reynolds]: I bribed one of the guards to go down the hill to smoke so I only have a few minutes. I brought a small flashlight and a tape measure. Just, stay with me. It gets good, I promise. I noticed something that the other archeologists missed. Everybody’s thinking in such a linear way, but I saw something in the ancient writing, just a few inches of blank space at the end, and it’s gonna sound crazy but I’m sure it wasn’t there yesterday. So, you guessed it. I’m measuring the cabin. Inside the cabin, the south wall is exactly 31 feet 4 inches long.

I’m back outside in front of the south wall. Are you sitting down? Outside measurement of the south wall is exactly 26 feet. Sam, I don’t know how, but this thing’s bigger on the inside than the outside! I’m not making this up. Do you have any idea what this could mean? Yeah, me neither. …Shit, I have to go.

 The next audio file was sent two hours later.

 [voice of Tara Reynolds]: I-I don’t have long. I got back to my tent and I couldn’t sleep, I forgot to mention that nobody can agree on the age of this thing, which is really odd. Carbon dating puts it…well, it must be a mistake. There’s no way it’s that old. Something else is bugging me. A symbol on the cabin wall? I came back, and I snuck past the guards. Sam, two hours ago the south wall measured 5 feet longer than the outside wall, and now…Sam, the south wall? Measures 94 feet! The exterior’s exactly the same. It’s incredible. And inside the cabin the air is cool, and feels thicker, or maybe just different, or maybe it’s just me, but there’s a slight metallic smell in the air? Sam, I think I can hear them outside. I’m gonna have to –

 It cuts off there. Her last message comes in, just a few seconds later.

 [voice of Tara Reynolds]: I’ve been inside the cabin for the past four hours. I’m using the light of the phone, I-I didn’t notice something. The wall was 94 feet, but there was a new corner! I couldn’t see it until later. A hallway…Sam, I’ve been walking for 90 minutes through a maze of halls and rooms. It’s…I don’t know where I am. I-I tried to go back, but I’ve been using the light of the phone and the battery’s about to die…Sam, I love you. And I’m scared. I’m –

 There’s a lot to think about here. Is she overtired? Is she maybe experiencing a kind of garrison mentality? A lonely wilderness type of madness? That seems unlikely, as there were other people in the camp. And what about the cabin itself? She seems convinced that its measurements make no sense. In addition, her last two messages come in only seconds apart, but she believes she’s already spent four hours wandering, lost inside a 26 foot square cabin.

Sam’s last post on the message board reads: “That’s the last I heard from Tara. That was three weeks ago. They’re treating it like a missing persons case. The police have been supportive generally, I suppose, I really don’t think they’re taking her messages or recordings seriously. They believe she was sick because she stopped taking her medication. She’s on Lexapro for very minor general anxiety, nothing like this. She’s not crazy. If she says it was bigger on the inside, then it was. She doesn’t have a boyfriend or husband, and there’s no family but me. She’s all alone out there. Please, help me find my sister.”

We’re still looking into it. But at the moment, that’s everything we have on Tara Reynolds. Which brings us, as it often does, back to Meerkatnip, who found something very interesting on the internet this morning.

 [voice of Meerkatnip]: Heya.

Nic: Hey, how’s it going?

MK: I don’t have long to chat.

Nic: Oh.

MK: Sorry, softball game.

Nic: Oh, alright, well then uh, let’s get right to it then.

MK: I got a Tanis search term hit from an archived cache system in Australia. From a PDF.

Nic: Oh, you can search text in a PDF?

MK: I can.

Nic: [laughs] okay.

MK: It was something called a galley? I guess that’s some kind of a book?

Nic: Yeah, it’s like a pre-release.

MK: Like a beta release?

Nic: Yeah, kind of.

MK: Looks like one of the chapters featured the word ‘Tanis’ more than twenty times.

Nic: It looked like?

MK: Yeah, I wasn’t able to get that one, somebody snatched it before I could reassemble the bits.

Nic: Really?

MK: Mhm. Crazy tech.

Nic: What was it, uh, what was it called? The galley?

MK: The document was titled…uh, hold on…Pacifica.

Nic: Pacifica…? Are you able to remember anything else?

MK: My system usually captures an image of everything that hits my desktop.

Nic: Cool. Uh, usually?

MK: [sighs] There are a few…organizations that frown upon that kind of tech and take precautions, usually some kind of after-the-fact encryption? I never know until I try and pull up the captured files.

Nic: Wow. And?

MK: Somebody did not want me taking pictures. I was able to save one page using the camera on my phone.

Nic: Well, can you send me that photo?

MK: You know I will.

NIc: Cool, thanks. Um, well I’ll try and work on –

MK: I gotta run, okay?

[sound of skype call ending]

Nic: Oh, okay.

 Meerkatnip sent the image. It looks like the first page of a galley, a fictional novel, maybe fantasy or science fiction based on the writing style. I’ll include a copy of it in the notes section of our website, at tanispodcast.com. But basically it’s an introductory paragraph, nothing revelatory. But there is a header that mentions the title, the writer’s name, and the date. Pacifica, by A. Ellis. March 19th, 2003. The Publisher wasn’t mentioned anywhere on the document, and they were unable or unwilling to confirm any involvement with a book called Pacifica. And they also told me that there isn’t now, nor has there ever been, somebody on their roster writing under the name A. Ellis. I asked Meerkatnip if she could look into it.

One of our executive producers, Paul Bay, went to school with one of the senior editors at that publishing company. He got in touch with her to set up a meeting.

 [voice of Paul Bay]: Alright, so, my contact told me nobody at the company has ever heard of a book called Pacifica, or a writer named, um, okay so this is where I think it gets really interesting.

Nic: Really? What…okay.

Paul: What she told me is that there’s no one, nobody there has ever heard of a writer named Avery Ellis.

Nic: So, okay, all we had on the document was A. Ellis.

Paul: Yeah. Right, exactly.

Nic: Well, okay, but, Avery Ellis is Cameron Ellis’ daughter, it could be a simple slip-up.

Paul: That’s exactly what she told me. A. Ellis is like M.K. Olsen or P. Hilton, a simple mistake.

Nic: But…?

Paul: Yeah, but. [laughs] I’ve known her for a pretty long time, something doesn’t feel right here. So I tried to push, but I think it’s a dead end.

 [voice of MK]: Avery Ellis? The rich bitch?

Nic: Yeah. Is there any chance that she wrote that book?

MK: Well, I don’t think so. Um, but outside of the society stuff I can’t find much on her. I do know she paid a cleaner to scrub her off the web after that nude photo came out a few years ago.

Nic: A cleaner?

MK: Yeah, they did a pretty good job. There’s still a shitload on there, but most of the real information was buried.

Nic: Wait, you can do that? Erase yourself from the internet?

MK: Kind of. There’s two kinds of cleaners. There’s ones who change the story and bury the bad stuff under page after page of good stuff. And then the other kind, the kind she used. People like me go in and…clean. You can rewrite your entire history if you want.

Nic: And they call that cleaning?

MK: Yeah. And it’s expensive. Like, two commas expensive.

NicL Wow

MK: Oh, before I forget. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the meeting, it’s not because I don’t want to meet you in the flesh, I just couldn’t get out of my other gig in time.

Nic: …I’m sorry, what meeting?

MK: Um…did you smoke a huge bowl earlier? You set up a meeting with me for coffee this morning.

Nic: Um…not me.

MK: You didn’t send me an email asking to meet for coffee to talk about another job?

NIc; No, I didn’t.

MK: Well, somebody used your computer to send me a message.

Nic; What, somebody used my email account without me knowing?

MK: Not just your email. They used your computer.

 So, who used my computer? Who sent Meerkatnip a message, posing as me, asking for a meeting? And why?

On the next episode, our investigation uncovers a very strange story about death, water, and another mysterious cabin in the Pacific Northwest. It’s Tanis. I’m Nic Silver. Until next time, keep looking.

[tanisisdreaming]

Episode 102: Radio, Radio

Part 1 of 2

Last week, we discovered a bunch of classified ads from the 50s, along with a Craigslist ad from earlier this year. As far as Tanis and the ads from the 50s go, they’re all disguised as adverts for used refrigerators, and they all appear to be guessing at possible locations for Tanis. None of the 75 ads mention the same location twice. It looks like, in 1953, some kind of illuminati Tanis fan club created a secret, global classified ad bulletin board system to try and guess at and discuss possible locations for Tanis. We’re still looking at that material, but the Craigslist ad was far more interesting. And we’re going to get to that. Soon. I promise. But for now, we’re tuning in the radio.

 From the Public Radio Alliance and Minnow Beats Whale, it’s Tanis. I’m Nic Silver.

 [sounds of old radio broadcasts being flipped through rapidly]

I grew up with the radio. I used to sit in front of my tape recorder for hours, fingers poised over the buttons, waiting for my favorite new song so I could record it. I couldn’t afford to buy all the albums I wanted, so this was the only way I could hear these songs over and over again. Something I think is interesting now, looking back at that time, is how often I ended up recording the DJ’s voices as well. It felt like it was just the two of us. But on the radio, that feeling was ephemeral, fleeting. I think that’s why I ended up recording their voices. I wanted to spend more time with these people. They had become almost like friends. That was the magic of radio. For me, radio was personal.

Have you ever stumbled upon something and had the feeling that you’re not supposed to be there? That you’re not supposed to be looking, or listening? Something that feels secret, forbidden? There was a time where you could turn on the radio, twist the dial, and discover something new and exciting. Pirate radio.

There were those famous boats in England, playing unlicensed music just off the coast in the 60s. And more recently, a pirate radio station in London started by a group of 16 year olds in 1994 was granted a commercial license. But for me, it was Hard Harry. Christian Slater’s character in Pump Up the Volume. I loved the idea that maybe I could be a DJ, that I could play music for people like me. People at home with their headphones on, listening to the radio while their parents were asleep upstairs. Instead of Hard Harry, they’d be waiting for me to choose the next song.

But the thing that I love the most about the idea of pirate radio, was that it felt mysterious, free, and authentic. Everything I hoped I might grow up to be in my adult life. How hard could it be? Why couldn’t my voice be the thing people stumbled across, and found comfort in, in the middle of the night?

Well, I never did start my own pirate radio station. And maybe this podcast is my way of making up for that. Speaking of this podcast, what do pirate radio and voices in the middle of the night have to do with the myth of Tanis? Well, like Tanis, pirate radio moved around, a lot. The stations would be raided or warned of a coming raid, and suddenly the signal you received clearly in your bedroom had moved. Now, you’d have to visit your friend on the other side of town in order to listen to your favorite DJ tell it like it is.

We’re going to tune in to what radio has to do with Tanis in just a moment. Last episode I told you we placed a Craigslist ad that read, “seeking Tanis, runner wanted.” We received a response a few days later rom a man named Geoff van Sant. His reply to our ad was brief. Four words of his own: “we need to meet.” So we did.

 [voice of Geoff van Sant]: are you recording already?

 That’s Geoff van Sant. He’s a thin man, about average height. His hair gives you the impression that he just woke up, but his eyes are sharp, no nonsense. You can tell immediately that he’s the kind of man who’s never going to talk about the weather.

 Geoff: did you already get a drink?

Nic: Uh, not yet.

Geoff: Well, we should get that taken care of. What do you want, beer?

Nic: Uh-

Geoff: Couple beers?

Nic: okay, yeah.

Geoff: Couple beers. Be right back.

 Nic: so like I mentioned on the phone, we’re making a documentary podcast.

Geoff: what kind of documentary?

Nic: Well, it’s actually – it’s a podcast? It’s kind of, um, like radio on the internet?

Geoff: I know what a podcast is.

Nic: [laughs sheepishly] oh.

Geoff: What’s the subject of your documentary?

Nic: Right! It’s about something called Tanis.

Geoff: Can you…stop recording for a sec?

 Geoff asked us to stop recording. He went on to explain why. It turns out that his brother Karl is the one that place the original Craigslist ad, or rather, had Geoff do it for him. Karl had been arrested on a hacking charge years ago, and was legally unable to use a computer. Karl passed away last month.

The thing that had Geoff more than a little freaked out about Tanis, and about our placing a similar ad, is that Karl passed away the day after he posted the words “seeking Tanis, runner available” on Craigslist. I ended up sitting in that bar talking with Geoff van Sant for six hours. After a lot of conversation, and quite a bit of Guiness, he decided I wasn’t a threat. And he agreed to let us visit his home in Everett, Washington, where he’d spent the last twelve years living with his brother.

 [sound of a door opening]

[voice of Geoff]: Not much, but it’s home, you know?

Nic: Oh, well thanks for being so generous with your time. I really appreciate it.

Geoff: What else am I gonna do? Come on in. Is this good, do you wanna sit here?

Nic: Yeah no, this is good.

 Nic: So did your brother ever mention the word ‘Tanis’ to you?

Geoff: Uhh, not that I can remember, but you know we didn’t really talk about that kind of stuff.

Nic: Sorry, that kind of stuff?

Geoff: His stuff.

Nic: Right, right. Um, what about the word ‘runner,’ did he ever use that?

Geoff: Well, he wasn’t a runner, I’ll tell you that. He’d get winded going up the stairs to get the mail. Guy loved his conspiracy magazines, he got like, two or three a month.

Nic: So, you and your brother, you’ve lived here for quite a while?

Geoff: Well, Karl didn’t live up here

Nic: Oh, no?

Geoff: This is my place. He, uh, lived in the basement suite.

Nic: Oh.

Geoff: I mean, I don’t go down there really, ever.

Nic: So, would you say your brother was a private person?

Geoff: …I’d say he was a crazy person.

Nic: Oh.

Geoff: Yeah. He moved in after his divorce. She kicked him out because he’s…obsessive. A few months after he moved in I had to let an electrician into the basement suite? That’s pretty much the last time I went down there. Til I had to, uh, take the police there, when he died.

Nic: He…he died here? Or, downstairs?

Geoff: Yeah. He hung himself with his belt.

Nic: Jesus. I’m sorry.

Geoff: Thanks.

Nic: Um…well…so, what was it that Karl was doing downstairs?

Geoff: I don’t know. I didn’t want to know. I mean, to call the guy a hoarder would probably be too kind.

Nic: Oh.

Geoff: Yeah, he was really into electronics, short wave radio, computers of course, but that was before his arrest. He was a naval communications officer. Before he was discharged he spent a lot of time in Russia.

Nic: Russia? Hm…and Karl was older?

Geoff: He was eleven years older, yeah.

Nic: Would it be possible to take a look downstairs?

 Geoff agreed to take us into the basement, after one more beer.

 Geoff: So there’s really no way to prepare you for this, so I’m just gonna open it.

Nic: Okay.

Geoff: [opening door] After you.

Nic: Wow.

Geoff: Yeah.

 It was probably larger than it felt inside. To say it was cluttered would be severely understating it. The first thing I noticed were the walls and ceiling, because they were on the floor, in pieces. Somebody, presumably Karl van Sant, had stripped all of the drywall and plaster from the walls and ceilings, leaving bare wood and wires. What was left of the walls and ceiling was on the floor, or piled into buckets.

The second thing I noticed were the cassette tapes. They were everywhere. Hundreds of milk crates filled with numbered cassettes littered the floor, and the walls were covered floor to ceiling in cassette tape shelving. It looked like there were tens of thousands of them. There were also hundreds of radios. Short wave, AM, FM, radios of all ages, shapes, and sizes. And there was writing on the walls. Maps, numbers, and hastily scribbled notes. It was extremely dirty and chaotic. But it was also fascinating, like stepping into somebody’s secret, and extremely messy, world.

 Nic: This is amazing.

Geoff: Is it?

Nic: [laughing] Yeah!

Geoff: Not the word I’d use.

Nic: Um, what uh, so…what are all these tapes?

Geoff: I don’t know man. Sat in front of his radios, day and night, recording these tapes for years. Never really left the house.

Nic: Um…do you mind if I take a look at some of this stuff?

Geoff: Oh yeah knock yourself out, I’ll be upstairs. You want another beer?

Nic: Thanks, uh, maybe in a bit.

Geoff: ‘Kay.

 I spent just over an hour in Karl’s apartment. Geoff was kind enough to let me take some of Karl’s cassettes home, along with a few boxes of documents. We took photos of the writing on the walls, as well.

We’ve been going through everything, but there’s just so much audio. It would take us fifty years to do this on our own. I asked a new friend for advice.

 [voice of Meerkatnip]: Ninety thousand tapes?

Nic: Yeah, best guess.

MK: Jesus.

Nic: Yeah, it’s a lot.

MK: No shit.

Nic: Um, any thoughts?

MK: Analog’s not really my thing.

Nic: Right.

MK: What’s on the ninety thousand tapes?

Nic: Well, apparently he was recording radio broadcasts from all over the world. A lot of short wave and unlisted, private stations. I’ll play a sample for you, this one’s from Slovakia. He’s numbered the tapes, this is from one of the tapes numbered 47. There are a lot of 47s, for some reason.

[sample from Karl’s cassette tape plays. It’s a woman’s voice, saying numbers in Russian]

MK: Wow, great song.

Nic: Yeah, it’s certainly interesting.

MK: If you say so. Sounds like typical numbers station bullshit to me.

Nic: Numbers station? That…so those were numbers?

MK: Obviously. And they’re Russian, by the way, they’re not Slovakian. …you do know what a numbers station is, right?

Nic: Um, it’s like a cold war spy signal thing, maybe?

MK: That’s one broad theory. You’ve never heard of the Boardman or Bulgarian Betty?

Nic: They don’t ring a bell, sorry.

MK: Wow. Okay. So, these short wave stations broadcast numbers. They’re encrypted messages to somebody, somewhere. There are thousands of number stations in almost as many languages using extremely high powered antennas. They broadcast globally.

Nic: Any idea why they’re doing it?

MK: No, they never say who they are or why they’re doing it. It’s a mystery. You’ll probably love it.

Nic: You may have just found my next show!

MK: [deadpan] Yay.

NIc: [laughs] Uh, so that’s all they do, just broadcast numbers?

MK: Well, normally there’s an interval signal to help tune in. Then there’s the header, which is usually followed by some sound or um, like a series of sounds that let you know the header is over. Then it’s just numbers. Over and over. Like the sample you played me, unless that was the header. I’d have to hear the entire tape to tell you for sure.

Nic: You seem to know an awful lot about numbers stations.

MK: Yeah, well, I know a lot about everything. Numbers stations were part of an unsolvable encryption challenge when I was in high school. These broadcasts are one-time pad cyphers. Totally unbreakable. Each pad is used once and then destroyed. Only the sender and receiver sees the pads. It’s a perfect system.

Nic: Oh, okay. So…?

MK: So what?

Nic: So, did you break the unbreakable cypher?

MK: How could I? I just said it was unbreakable.

Nic: Oh.

MK: But I did win the contest.

Nic: How?

MK: Trade secret I’m afraid.

Nic: Okay, fair enough. I’m guessing you haven’t been able to dig up anything else on Tanis?

MK: Well, I’m working on a few things, I’ve got some leads.

Nic: Great!

MK: So it’ll be later today, maybe tomorrow at the latest.

Nic: Okay, cool. I’ll give you a call later to check in.

MK: Cool. I’ll wait by the phone.

Nic: [laughs] okay.

 It turns out that recording numbers stations is a very common practice. There are a large number of short wave radio fans and conspiracy theorists interested in these mysterious private messages sent over such a public medium. Was Karl van Sant simply recording numbers stations? And, if so, was that recording related to a search for Tanis, in some way?

We found something else. Something interesting in the documents we received from Karl van Sant’s brother. It was a framed letter addressed to a Seattle man named Edgar Haze, asking if Haze had found the SSS, and if so, could he receive he and Anna early next month. It was sent from London and dated March 6th, 1925. It’s an interesting letter, not because of the content specifically, but rather, because of who it was from. It was signed by a man named Charles Fort.

You may or may not be aware, but there’s a well-known American researcher of the same name. The term “Fortean” is often used to accompany the search for anomalous phenomenon. I showed the letter to Geoff van Sant, and he told me that this letter was indeed from that Charles Fort, and that it had been one of his brother’s most treasured possessions. Apparently, Karl van Sant bought it at auction back when he still had a job. Well before he went on disability and moved into his brother’s basement. Well before he began his obsessive recording project. I took the letter to Morris Stevenson, an expert in all things Fortean, to see if it was genuine.

 [voice of Stevenson]: It’s the real thing. Or at least the best forgery I’ve ever seen.

Nic: what about the details, the dates?

Stevenson: All correct. Charles Fort was living in London with Anna in 1925.

Nic: And, what about this, uh, SSS?

Stevenson: The Super-Sargasso Sea.

Nic: Sorry, the Super-Sargasso Sea?

Stevenson: Charles Fort believed, or pretended to believe, or joked, depending on who you ask, that there was a dimension into which lost things go. The name alludes to the Sargasso Sea, which sits next to the Bermuda triangle. Most people believe that Fort proposed this ridiculous theory as a kind of Socratic dialogue, just something to get people talking. But Theodore Dreiser didn’t think so. He believed Fort had been looking for the Super-Sargasso Sea for most of his adult life, and that he proposed his theory as a way of kind of hiding in plain sight. Do you mind if I take a photograph of this letter for my collection?

Nic: Not at all, go ahead.

Stevenson: Thanks.

NIc: No problem. And thank you so much for taking the time out to do this. I really appreciatee it.

Stevenson: Anytime.

 I borrowed a bunch of material on Charles Fort from Professor Stevenson. The only thing I could remember about Fort myself was something about frogs falling from the sky. Some of Stevenson’s research indicated that before Fort died, he’d been working via letters with Dreiser, on a book. Stevenson believes that Fort and Dreiser were convinced they were close to finding the location of the Super-Sargasso Sea. Stevenson also believes, based on what he’s been able to piece together over the years, that Fort’s late period research indicated that the Super-Sargasso Sea wasn’t necessarily located in water, at all.

[tanisisdreaming]

Episode 101: Seeking Tanis, Runner Available

Part 2 of 2

Thank you to Alex Reagen for taking the time out to read that story for us.

Professor Adams believes that Tanis was the inspiration for Dante’s ninth circle of hell. The name Tanis is actually mentioned in a few stanzas of an unfinished work by romantic poet and visual artist William Blake, called Songs of Sorrow, discovered more than a century after its author’s death:

“Tanis, from the heat and fire, from the sand and spire, her light to bed, her darkness fled, across the sea, eternal, she….”

Professor Adams believes Blake is referring to the last time Tanis moved, when it vanished from Europe where it had existed for centuries from the Renaissance to Napoleon.

 [Professor Adams’ voice]: The migration of Tanis was always monumental. There are references throughout history if you know what you’re looking for. But all sources agree, right around the time of Blake’s poem, during the dawn of the 19th century, Tanis just disappeared.

Alex: Disappeared?

Adams: Tanis simply…vanished. Even those who knew where to look could no longer see it. Tanis was simply…gone.

Alex: Where did it go?

Adams: I believe it was some time in 1823 that Tanis moved from Europe to North America.

Alex: Wait, so…there are reports of Tanis in North America?

Adams: Not at first. But you have to remember, at that time, North America was very sparsely inhabited. Separated by an ocean from the civilized world.

Alex: Right.

Adams: There was very little record keeping. And I believe that’s precisely why there’s no mention of Tanis for decades. Not until the Haida.

Alex: The Haida?

Adams: The Haida tell stories about it. They use the name Zanu. But it’s Tanis. There’s no question. The first hint at the new location appeared in 1834. It was a fur trapper working in the Puget Sound area of Washington, in Fort Nisqually, a Hudson’s Bay trading outpost. The trapper wrote a letter detailing a story he’d heard from the Haida. He described a kind of demonic will-o-the-wisp that lured people in, and drove them to acts of insane brutality. Abrupt, unspeakable violence.

Alex: Sorry, just so we’re clear. Are you saying that you believe Tanis is currently located in Washington State?

Adams: Definitely. Somewhere in the Puget Sound area.

 Professor Adams passed away a few years ago. I was, however, able to track down his former assistant, who was kind enough to forward whatever he was able to salvage before the university and Adams’ family sold or destroyed it. Aside from the material on Blake and Atlantis, there were only a few pages related to Tanis. But those few pages were very interesting.

They were pages from the Fort Nisqually fur trapper’s journal, written the day before he brutally massacred nine of his friends and colleagues.

 [Nic reading fur trapper’s journal]: April 7th, 1834. I woke up, my mouth filled with blood, trying to scream. I could hear the horses, restless outside. I stood up and spit the blood onto the ground. There were no wounds in my mouth. My head was aching, and there was a low ringing in my ears. I stumbled outside into the forest, trying to get away from the sound which seemed to be coming from everywhere at once. And that’s when I saw her. Her light gossamer nightgown seemed to spill out around her like smoke. She turned and walked deeper into the forest, and I knew she wanted me to follow. I tried to catch up, but she was always ahead, just out of reach. I finally caught up with her in a clearing. She was beautiful, but I can’t remember exactly what she looked like. And I don’t remember how it happened, but I think I noticed her lips, and then she was kissing me…and then she was killing me.

I was on my back, unable to move and she was on top holding a knife. Slowly she cut me open, removing one organ after another. I tried to scream but I couldn’t make a sound. I tried to move but there was nothing I could do. Cut, cut. She was smiling and singing some kind of nursery rhyme. Cut, cut, cut. I knew death was coming. It was dark and terrifying, like slowly sinking into a thick black pain. I was being erased, forever.

And then…I managed to move. I stood up and looked down. The woman was below me. She was dead. Her organs scattered on the grass like flowers. I dropped the knife. My hands were shaking. My mouth was full of blood. Her blood. Then the world began to spin, and I passed out. When I woke up, I was alone. But I knew she’d be coming for me.

 We’ve heard questionable testimony from Professor Adams, an excerpt from a mad trapper’s journal, part of a mysterious short story written by an aspiring magician/rocket scientist, and one stanza of a lost poem by William Blake. So, what now? Well, now, we’re heading back to the deep web, where Meerkatnip says she found something.

 [voice of MK]: I’m sending it now

Nic: Is it something significant?

MK: What do I know?

[pause]

Nic: Okay, so what am I looking at?

MK: [sigh] it’s an old classified ad from the 50s, there’s a corroborating digital reference that was deleted 13 seconds after it was created.

Nic: So…how were you able to get this?

MK: …by using a rolling cache system? A catch-all parsing algorithm I actually helped create? There’s a net set up for those who can find it. A large percentage of text is cached and encrypted.

Nic: A large percentage of text…what text?

MK: Everything.

Nic: E-everything? That sounds…

MK: Impossible?

Nic: Kind of, yeah.

MK: No, text is nothing. It’s tiny. Text is actually a microscopic percentage of all the shit online. In this case, in 2001 somebody converted a small percentage of classified ads from the 50s into text for a cultural research project.

Nic: So…okay, so what did you find?

MK: There were a few things. A series of letters, a group of people all over the world communicating via classified ads. They’re talking about something secret, something they thought was pretty damn important, that’s for sure. They use the word ‘Tanis’ 75 times. But it’s weird, my program says it was encrypted.

Nic: If it’s encrypted, how do you know it’s Tanis?

MK: Well, encryption was different in 1952. It’s a simple substitution cypher. My program decoded it automatically. The same cypher used in a bunch of old pre-enigma shit from Germany. My system just does it and makes a note.

Nic: Wow. Sounds like a good system.

MK: Yeah, you bet your ass.

Nic: Uh, so the classified ads are from the 50s?

MK: That’s right.

Nic: And they were being deleted? Do you have any idea why?

MK: No, it’s not my department.

Nic: So, could you forward that stuff to me?

MK: Will do. There’s another interesting message here, this one’s a bit more recent.

Nic: Tanis?

MK: Yeah, definitely.

Nic: Where’s it from?

MK: Well, it’s from another flash archived cache. This one was deleted after…1/6th of a second. They’re getting faster.

Nic: Who’s getting faster?

MK: Whoever doesn’t want you to find this message.

Nic: Me?

MK: No, not you. Like, the collective ‘you.’

Nic: Ohh, okay. Does this happen often, this super-fast deletion?

MK: Yes, it happens all the time. Constantly.

Nic: Oh.

MK: But this level of sophistication and speed, it’s…interesting. Like, I don’t think even the NSA could pull that off.

Nic: No?

MK: No, no way.

Nic: Okay, so this second message, the 1/6th of a second reference to Tanis, where was that message from?

MK: Website in North America.

Nic: What website?

MK: Craigslist. Seattle, Washington.

 Forty miles north of the fur trapper’s outpost at Fort Nisqually, in the middle of the Puget Sound, sits Seattle, Washington. A coastal sea port, and the fastest growing city in North America. Seattle is where Jimi Hendrix was born, where Nirvana helped dramatically increase flannel shirt sales in the 90s, and home to the Tanis Podcast.

 Nic: So, you were able to download the content of that Craigslist ad?

MK: Obviously.

Nic: [laughs] Okay. Um, could you read it to me?

MK: I emailed it to you.

Nic: Okay, thanks, um, thank you, but it’s more dramatic if you read it.

MK: [sigh] Okay, it’s your nickel.

Nic: Thanks :)

MK: It’s a short one. It’s only four words.

Nic: Okay, ready.

MK: [reading ad] “Seeking Tanis, runner available.”

Nic: That’s it?

MK: That’s it. Seeking Tanis, runner available.

 Seeking Tanis, runner available. Four words. Four words from somebody who must have read the short story Where is Tanis?. Meerkatnip explained that there’s no way to reverse engineer contact for whoever placed the ad. The Craigslist ad was interesting, but essentially, it was an interesting dead end.

So I decided we would place an ad of our own. Instead of ‘seeking Tanis, runner available,’ our ad would read, ‘seeking Tanis, runner wanted.’

We ran that ad everywhere we could, and it didn’t take long to get a response. A response that changed everything.

I’m Nic Silver. This is Tanis. We’ll be back again next week. Until then, keep looking.

[tanisisdreaming]

Episode 101: Seeking Tanis, Runner Available

Part 1 of 2

Some stories have layers. History. Detailed recorded mass sightings, grainy videos, blurry photographs and countless witnesses. Are these stories, with their multiple firsthand accounts, years, decades, and sometimes even centuries of so-called evidence more likely to be true? Sometimes we come across something different. A genuine mystery. Something that appears to have no recorded history, no website and no public record at all. Something uniquely strange and mysterious.

This is one of those stories.

The city of Pasadena has a long and colorful history. The name ‘Pasadena’ means ‘key of the valley,’ and the area was part of a Mexican land grant in 1843. From its early roots as a haven for teetotalers, a recovery resort, and a citrus grower’s paradise, Pasadena flourished. A number of colorful characters made their homes and fortunes in the area, but perhaps nobody was as colorful as Jack Parsons, a rocket scientist who moved to Pasadena from Los Angeles as a young boy. It was Parsons’ interest in science fiction that led him into rocketry, and by 1941 he had founded Aerojet, to sell technology Parsons himself had developed. At the time, Parsons was living in a large ornate mansion on Orange Grove Avenue. Oh, and there’s one more thing. Parsons was the leader of the Ordo Templi Orientis, Aleister Crowley’s brand new religious movement, the religion known as Thelema. Thelema had another infamous member living under the same roof. A pulp science fiction writer named L. Ron Hubbard. After Parsons and Hubbard allegedly failed to summon the goddess Babalon to earth, and after Hubbard (again, allegedly) made off with Parsons’ entire life savings and his wife, Parsons continued his work in rocketry until his controversial death in 1952. The police ruled it accidental, but people who knew Parsons at the time of his death suspected assassination.

There are a lot of interesting angles to explore there. So what is this story about? Well, this story is about a mystery. And Jack Parsons’ part in our mystery wasn’t revealed until decades after his death, when some of his writings and poetry were published by a small magazine in San Francisco. That magazine was called Strange Worlds. Parsons’ writing really wasn’t unique or remarkable in any way. His stories were…too personal. Barely sketches, really. And his poems were simple, but not simple in an elegant way. Hubbard was the writer in the mansion, not Parsons. But one thing Parsons did do better than Hubbard, better than almost anybody if you ask those who knew him, was research. Parsons was a paper-trail Lisbeth Salander way before anyone had dragon tattoos. An unremarkable short story called Where is Tanis? was the fourth story credited to Parsons in that magazine. It was written in the second person, and it was short, almost reading like a documentary sketch. It was certainly the most poorly written and sorely lacked cohesive narrative structure. But that short story is the entire reason we created this podcast.

From the Public Radio Alliance and Minnow Beats Whale, it’s Tanis. I’m Nic Silver. We’ll be right back.

 Cultivating and protecting a sense of mystery feels like something from the past – a relic, from the analog age. It’s like knowing a phone number by heart or directions to your uncle’s house. There’s no need. We have our contacts and extremely accurate GPS in our hands or pockets at all times.

In the age of google, and Reddit, and Wikipedia, are there any genuine mysteries left in the world? We can pause a movie to look up an actor, and we know every single film and television project they’ve ever done. Who they’re married to, who they were seen kissing in the French Riviera, and of course, the cold-pressed juice they had for lunch is right there on Instagram.

Before the break, I mentioned a short story published way back when in Strange Worlds magazine, called Where is Tanis?. This is where our story really begins. Now I’m not talking about the Tanis of 20th dynasty Egypt, the ancient city mentioned in Raiders of the Lost Ark, although there may be a connection. I’m talking specifically about the myth of Tanis. Tanis as mystery. Maybe one of the last pure mysteries left in the world. One last chance to be truly surprised. I’m talking about the Freemasons, the Templars, the illuminati and the Doukhobors, about the deep web, tor browsers and black sites. I’m talking about old VHS tapes passed from college dorms to conspiracy nuts in brown paper bags. Notes surreptitiously left in old phone books, and stories told over decades via classified ads. I’m talking about whispers in the dark, standing next to a stranger waiting for a subway train in the middle of the night. One word. Tanis.

The Hebrew story of Moses, discovered floating in the Nile river from Exodus, is usually located at Tanis. However, historians agree, those stories are most likely spiritual allegories, as no supporting archeological evidence has ever been uncovered. It’s widely accepted that the ancient Egyptian city of Tanis was flooded by the Nile around the 6th century AD. So, all we really know is that Tanis was a city in Egypt. But the myth of Tanis actually begins much earlier. What if the ancient Egyptian city was named after the myth, and not the other way around?

[playing a clip of Professor Adams]: What you need to understand is that, as far as human history is concerned, the Tanis of the Egyptians is brand new.

That’s Carl Adams. A historian and religious studies professor at Oxford University. This interview was recorded for an episode of Pacific Northwest Stories from 1999, way back when we were on Terrestrial Radio, for a documentary exploring three mysterious places – the Bermuda triangle, Easter Island, and Atlantis. The producers decided against including Professor Adams’ interview in that show, because they were unable to confirm the voracity of the content of that interview. Basically, they were unable to find any corroborating evidence to support his claims about Tanis.

[playing a clip of Professor Adams]: If you know where to look, Tanis has been there from the beginning. The Bronze Age, ancient Greece, Rome, the Aztecs and the Mayans. There is mention of Tanis in the first compiled gospels that would eventually comprise what we now call the bible. And it’s mentioned again in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Although, some of those sections have yet to be released for public study.

Alex Reagen: So, Tanis is a city?

Adams: Sometimes. Maybe, but not that city.

Alex: I don’t understand.

Adams: It’s not an easy thing to understand. Tanis is…something else. Deeper and more, fluid. Some say Tanis is the location of the Garden of Eden. Others describe Tanis as God him or herself. It’s been called Gaia, or if you believe Robert Devourant and Joseph Deraymaty {translator’s note: yo I’m so sorry but I honestly have no idea how one would spell those last names, if anyone knows hmu} Tanis is actually the Holy Grail. Sometimes Tanis is a place. Sometimes it’s a concept. Sometimes, it’s even a person. The ancient Egyptian city was named to honor Tanis, the mythic legend, not the other way around.

Alex: Sometimes Tanis is…a person?

Adams: Or a god, or as one Egyptian high priest was convinced, a cat.

Alex: So…nobody knows exactly what Tanis is?

Adams: I don’t believe you could say that.

Alex: Why not?

Adams: Because in every recorded mention concerning the myth of Tanis, there are common through lines.

Alex: What kind of through lines?

Adams: Well for one, Tanis moves. It seems to migrate every 400 years or so. And it changes. It’s kind of hard to explain the many facets of this myth without serious study.

Alex: I’m starting to get that sense.

Adams: When it comes to Tanis, they say you always know it when you see it. Even if, by that point, it’s too late.

 Thank you to Christina Reyes and Alex Reagen, who produced that segment, for allowing us to share it with you on this show.

Professor Adams claimed that Atlantis was actually an avatar for Tanis, active for about 400 years before sinking into the ocean. In fact, in ancient Sumerian, the glyphs for the words Atlantis and Tanis are almost identical. And perhaps even more telling, the Sumerian symbol for Tanis predates Atlantis by at least 10 years.

Professor Adams went on to describe other possible incarnations and other potential cultural references, and then he started talking about the feeling and fear associated with the Tanis myth itself. An overwhelming sense of religious awe, or a soul-shattering foreboding, depending on who was telling the story. According to Professor Adams’ reading of the ancient text, some say Tanis is evil, a dark pocket of mind-altering terror and pain. Others say Tanis heals completely, body and soul. But all reports appear to agree on one thing: when you experience Tanis, one way or another, you are forever changed.

So why are we here? Why Tanis? Why did this myth mean so much to me that I created a show to try and figure it out?

Remember when I said the world was wanting for mystery? Well I believe I may have found one. A big one. Tanis, an ancient legendary myth. Maybe the original Garden of Eden. The cradle of humanity. Maybe the original source material for Camelot. Maybe hell itself. Some say Tanis is where Lucifer landed when he originally fell from grace. Yet others claim Tanis holds the key to eternal life. But no matter what it is, or was, or where it is or will be, outside of vague hints and whispers, there are only a handful of articles written on the subject of Tanis, almost every one of them by Professor Adams. Aside from the ancient Egyptian city, there’s absolutely no mention of Tanis on the internet, at all. At least, not until I ventured into the deep web. And that’s coming up, after the break.

 [voice of Meerkatnip]: Tanis? I thought you said tennis. Yeah, this thing is five letters, it could be Tanis. Yeah, that actually makes sense.

 That’s Meerkatnip. I’m guessing not her real name. She’s an expert in illicit underground internet commerce, among other things. It took me three weeks and a whole lot of bitcoin to get her to agree to a five minute skype conversation.

 Nic: So, what I’m looking for is anything related to the myth of something called ‘Tanis.’

MK: And you said you want me to exclude the ancient Egyptian shit?

Nic: Right.

MK: Well, there’s not a lot.

Nic: Yeah, I’m not surprised.

MK: Think this stuff you’re looking for might be pre-digital?

Nic: Uh, I have no idea what I’m looking for.

MK: You’re sure this is some kind of famous thing?

Nic: I’m actually not sure about anything.

MK: [sighs] It’s your money.

 We’ll get back to Meerkatnip in a moment. I promise. But first, a bit more background. Just about a year ago I was researching a story on 50s pulp fiction, and I picked up a copy of Strange Worlds magazine from a used bookstore in San Francisco. While reading the short story Where is Tanis? I remembered Professor Adams’ interview. It was the combination of that interview, and the short story Where is Tanis? that inspired me to start asking questions. I haven’t stopped.

I’ll include a link to the PDF version of Where is Tanis? on our website. I was going to read you the story myself, but I decided to bring in a ringer.

 [sound of a door opening and closing]

Nic: Well, here we are at Pacific Northwest Stories studio, and we’re going to track down my friend and producing partner Alex Reagen, who’s working on her podcast…

[he knocks on a door]

Alex: Hey, come in!

Nic: Hey :)

Alex: Give me one sec. How’s it going?

Nic: I am working on the new show. And to that end, I was wondering if you might be willing to read something for us.

Alex: Oh, sure!

[voice of Alex]: okay, so I’m gonna tell a story comme ça.

[some adjusting of microphones]

[voice of Alex reading Where is Tanis?]: Your uncle told you that the runner knows the way, or will remember the way. But first the runner must find the map. Then, and only then, can the search begin. The last runner to locate Tanis had been young, but strong. He was also trained by your uncle, who had been trained by his father before him. And so it has been, and so it shall be.

Now it’s your turn. You are the runner. You know the last was almost killed. You will come to understand that this is common. Even the most experienced runner risks losing his life every time he steps onto the path. Tanis is eternal, forever. But it’s only existed here, in these woods, for a relatively short time. Most likely less than 200 years, but nobody knows for sure. Tanis is always moving, or you’re moving. And it’s always changing, or you’re changing.

Once, the last runner told you that he remembered something, which is very rare. He told you that he led his seekers through the deep evergreens, towards the sound that only the runner can hear, the constant throb and hum of what they call ‘the calm.’ The beating heart of Tanis. His seekers came out of the woods into a clearing and the runner, who was looking at the red rock, knew that if he turned back around, the calm was now behind him.

The quest was over for his group of seekers. In the calm, time stops, or slows, or disappears altogether. You know that the runner never enters the calm. You know that the runner brings those who are looking, the seekers. You know that the seekers, and only the seekers, may enter the calm. In Tanis, if they’re lucky, your seeker’s dreams can become reality. If they’re not, the seeker enters a nightmare world. An unimaginable hell of their own creation.

Your father had a saying he taught to your uncle once, a long time ago. “So as it was, so shall it be in Tanis, eternal. In Tanis they’ll see.”