The Unicorn and The Gramophone

The Unicorn and the Gramophone

The implant worked perfectly. Sounds could be controlled by thought and reached every corner of his brain without disturbing anyone. Not only could song choice be personalised but the volume, bass, treble and speed could be adjusted. Robert sat in his armchair for hours at a time with a contented smile on his face and pondered the prospect of no more arguments with his girlfriend Emma as they could both listen to what they wanted.

The drone of car engines could be blocked out during the drive to work and he would never again be disturbed by a disagreeable conversation from a nearby seat when catching the train. At work he could block out the idle office chatter and, if his boss wished to speak to him, he could mollify the grating Cockney accent, through accessing the voice modification tool, so that instructions were delivered in agreeable tones. There was even a facility to record conversations so he didn’t even have to pay attention when being talked to.

Saturday evenings, however, could still be problematic when he explored youtube with Emma. They took turns selecting videos and when one of her favourite songs appeared he would be dragged out of his chair to reluctantly dance around the living room. Although he would have to endure James Brown swinging his hips for some time longer, there were already rumours that an implant was being developed to control what you saw. When that happened Robert and Emma could sit beside each other with their unique audio-visual experience on a Saturday night and he couldn’t wait for this development.

Robert loved his implant, listening to it for hours on end. Sometimes Emma would sit beside him but on other occasions she would stay in her bedroom talking to friends on the phone. Her sister became a frequent visitor and the two women could be heard above the sound of the implant talking and laughing in the kitchen, whilst he sat in his chair.

It irritated him that their voices disturbed his private audio experience and he sometimes wondered what was going on around him. He would ask Emma who she was talking to on the phone but as time went by these people meant less and less as he barely knew the names in her address book and even fewer details about what was going on in their lives.

Then one Saturday afternoon he decided to switch off his implant and walk into the kitchen. The mood changed as he entered but the two women carried on talking. Robert stood there but discovered that not only was he unfamiliar with the content but even found it difficult to make out their words. He resisted the temptation to switch the implant on trying to stay with the unadulterated accents but it wasn’t easy.

It wasn’t long after that when Emma sat him down. Her look was serious so he adjusted her tone to ‘joyful’ to compensate for the painful words that appeared to be imminent.

   “Robert I think it is time you and I go our separate ways. We have become strangers living in the same house.”

   Robert was confused. “But we have everything we want. What more could I give?”

   “You could give me your time and your attention. When was the last time we had a good conversation?” Tears were rolling down her cheeks, though it was rather disconcerting to hear cheerful laughter coming through the implant.

   “But I will miss you.”

   “What will you miss Robert?”

Robert was unable to answer that last question. Emma was talking sense: he would miss little and as technology advanced this would just increase. The eye implant would not be long in development and at night a lifelike model could share his bed. He ruminated on the fact that one day he would be making love to Marilyn Monroe and the following night wooing Elizabeth Taylor. Emma was unnecessary, in fact she would probably just get in the way.

Before she left Emma presented him with a print of a painting. It was of a black and white terrier dog listening to a wind up gramophone: a not very subtle reference to Robert’s slavish devotion to the hearing implant, though he failed to understand the message. Initially he paid it little heed but as it was framed large and hung prominently in his living room could hardly avoid it. The dog seemed strangely interested in the sound coming out of the device and, for the first time in a while, Robert let his imagination wander as he thought of what could be causing such an intent attraction.

One afternoon he conducted an internet search of the title of the painting, which was entitled ‘His Master’s Voice.’ The implant told a tale of a dog named Nipper who listened to his master speaking long after he had died. The voice had been captured on discs and exited through a conical horn towards which the dog’s ear was devotedly directed. The painter was fascinated by how the familiar tone of the owner never failed to attract Nipper, no matter that the dog had little comprehension of what was being said. It was just the comforting tone of someone he had once loved that captivated the animal.

What would life be like if you could hear like a dog? Not just the high pitched tone of one of those whistles from the pet store but all manner of high frequency vibrations across vast distances. Perhaps even a secret message from his master from beyond the grave was being transmitted to Nipper?

What would it be like being a dog and hunting through the woods attuned to everything that was going on? Of course hearing would work in tandem with that other powerful canine sense of smell to produce a sensory experience that humans could barely imagine. An olfactory implant would be many years away but Robert could experience the sounds of a hunt through the ears of a dog if he purchased an upgrade to his hearing implant.

The twigs cracked beneath the dog’s paws and the leaves made a swooshing sound as they rubbed against fur. Breath was heavy from the exertion of the walk and the anticipation of the chase. Occasionally a small drip of saliva fell on the earth making a plopping sound. Robert could hear the nose sniffing the air or ferreting through the undergrowth investigating interesting scents. Upon reaching a stream the noisy gulping drowned all other acoustics from the location but was punctuated by even heavier breathing at intervals as the canine paid off the oxygen debt accrued.

The breathing stopped momentarily as a small squeak was heard. Was this a mouse, squirrel or some other kind of tasty rodent? The pace of the paws increased, he could hear the sound of  the dog’s heart beating faster and more drops of saliva fell from the flews of its lower jaw. The small animal seemed to sense it was being chased as a scurrying of small feet accompanied by more panicked squeaking could be made out. The sound of these feet scratching against something hard seemed to indicate that the animal had found a tree to hurriedly climb. This was confirmed by the pace slowing and then an angry barking as the canine became frustrated at seeing its meal disappear.

The disappointment could be sensed in the slow walk and the noise made as it brushed bushes and trod on undergrowth not seeming to care now that its body was relaxed and inattentive. Then all of a sudden everything stopped. Nothing could be heard except the sound of breathing and a heart beating. There were no other sounds in the forest, no small animals squeaking, no birds fluttering their wings, even the wind had subsided so that the leaves did not rustle. All was still for half an hour before the hunt resumed but Robert had become bored by that point and had switched the implant to something more interesting.

Robert could scarcely contain his excitement when the visual implant arrived. He surveyed the view from the summit of Mount Everest without leaving his armchair and attended a Beatles concert without having to buy a ticket. During the latter event he was particularly impressed with how the visual and audio implant synchronised. He stopped driving his car to work, preferring the bus so he could travel through green meadows, the African savannah or the bustling streets of Zanzibar’s stone town. Unfortunately he could not do his work with it continually switched on but looked forward to returning to Marilyn Monroe or Elizabeth Taylor every evening.

His virtual world provided everything he ever wanted, though he sometimes felt frustrated that he couldn’t contribute more to the events that unfolded in front of him. It would be good to debate with President Kennedy or sing along with Elvis’ backing group. Developing responsive virtual worlds that could cater to every individual’s thoughts, however, would require the invention of an almost infinite number of parallel universes and he doubted if it could ever happen.

But what happened at the end of the dog’s hunt? What caused the animal to stop in its tracks and for everything, even the weather itself, to suddenly become so hushed. Robert decided to replay the hunt but this time with video.

It was a squirrel that had evaded the dog but the audio was more interesting than the images as little could be seen through the growth of vegetation and the canine sense of vision is no better than a human’s. Robert fast forwarded until the point where the dog had wearily given up the chase and mounted a small hill to ascertain the lie of the land.

It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to fall to the line of the horizon so that a gentle light cast long shadows across a hollow clearing in the forest. In the centre of the clearing was an animal with a brilliant white coat grazing on the long grass. At first sight it appeared to be the most beautiful horse Robert had ever seen. Nature itself appeared to stand in awe and reverence on witnessing such a creature. It was only when it turned its head towards the viewpoint of the camera that the magnificent single horn could be seen standing on the horse’s poll just where a delicate white forelock began and brushed over its eyes. Robert was struck by a feeling of awe at seeing the unicorn pawing the ground in its characteristic elegant manner.

But it shouldn’t have been there. Robert checked the mental index and confirmed he had not asked to see creatures from mythology. There was clearly a fault with the upgrade he had purchased and the indexing system needed to be better calibrated. Unfortunately, since the visual implant was synchronised with the hearing implant, it would have to be removed as they both needed to work together.

It wasn’t too difficult to cope without the visual implant as he was used to turning it off during the day. The absence of the hearing implant was more challenging since all auditory interactions had been filtered in a voice and pace of his choosing. He found he really had to concentrate to understand what was being said and even relearn the skill of using a pen and paper to make notes in order not to forget instructions.

Robert was forced to cope once more with the sound of traffic and the conversations of those around him. To his surprise he found himself straining to hear what was being said and was sad to discover just how out of touch he was. His speech was slurred as the implant had affected how he sounded to himself. He felt lonely and yearned for the return of the implants.

He began treasuring quiet moments and would take lunch in a nearby park. One day after finishing his sandwiches he took a walk along a row of shops that bordered the greenery. He liked this environment as the buildings were quiet antique enterprises and he could lose himself in the multitude of trinkets crammed into the many shelves found in each. In this environment there was visual stimulation, however low the level of lighting, but the audio input was calm and peaceful.

On turning the corner of one aisle, he saw a model unicorn resting against a pile of old music magazines. The colour was pure white just like the one he had seen during his last virtual visual experience. It seemed to be made from porcelain giving it a smooth lustrous sheen except for the tip of its one horn which ended in a sharp thin metal spike. Robert had developed a shyness from his difficulty in communicating but eventually gathered up the courage to ask the store keeper its price and age.

It had been manufactured in the 1960s and was part of a record player. The needle of the unicorn’s horn rested on rotating vinyl to play a tune. Robert asked for a demonstration and to his surprise the turntable still worked. It was decades since he had seen a record player and it was almost a magical experience to observe how sounds could be generated through the interaction of the needle and plastic. The small black disc rotated at forty five revolutions per minute as the unicorn bowed it head almost in homage to the music being produced.

It was James Brown playing, the song Emma had loved. He was hearing the sound as if for the first time and the freshness of the music struck him. Although he immediately recognised the tune it seemed more interesting than he remembered even though the sound was more raw than when played on youtube. In fact he was surprised that he actually enjoyed it.

Suddenly he pictured an image of Emma dancing round the living room to the music and pulling him out of his chair. They were laughing and staring into each other’s eyes. He placed his hands around her hips and she playfully pushed him away. They danced and danced before falling into each other’s arms on the couch. There was a joke between them but nothing was said it was communicated entirely through their bodies and the looks they gave each other. As Robert stood in the dusty antique store, tears began to collect in his eyes.

He took the strange looking record player home. Apparently vinyl was making a resurgence, as if people all over the world were avoiding sound on the internet and lovingly spinning black discs as their parents had once done. He found a device that allowed him to make records in his own home and worked on improving his speech and hearing as he made and listened to vinyl creations. When he felt his speech was good enough and, when he thought that the message he was able to create conveyed everything he wanted to say, a record was sent to Emma.

Emma was at home when the unfamiliar black disc arrived. She was feeling depressed as the latest in a long line of unsatisfactory relationships had just ended. She replayed in her mind the list of shortcomings itemised by her latest boyfriend that had culminated in her reluctance to have a breast implant. The fact that she was leafing through a magazine on cosmetic medical procedures showed that the criticism had stung.

Although intrigued by the delivery, she wondered how she could listen to it. It would be wasteful to purchase a record player but then she remembered there was one at her grandmother’s house she had listened to as a girl. It was worth a try to see if it worked and at least it would remove her from the present train of thought.

Emma’s grandmother was surprised by her request but happy to test her small record collection including The Kinks, Manfred Mann, Elvis and The Beatles. Surprisingly the machine worked, transporting the old lady back to discos in church halls and huddling round a radio with excited schoolfriends at a hopeful time when anything seemed possible.

Emma suggested they raid her sideboard cupboard for sherry and biscuits. The passage of years had resulted in the old woman not being able to move but it didn’t seem to matter as she watched her granddaughter twirl her body in rhythm to the familiar tunes.

Eventually it became time to listen to Robert’s record. The voice was slow and deliberate but immediately recognisable as the one Emma had once loved. It started with an apology. He must have thought he was somehow not sufficient in his own skin and now wanted to live his life as himself and hoped he would be accepted on such terms. There was a resolution to never accept any more implants and a determination to try and grow the relationship together if she would have him back.

The words flooded her mind although their meaning barely registered. Like Nipper, Emma was not so much interested in the message as the sound of that voice, trembling with emotion and sincere in its tone. It reminded her of their first awkward meeting, the time they had first kissed, a walk on the beach, a long road trip together and so much else she hadn’t realised she had missed. She left the sherry and the biscuits and went round to his house.