Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Our main contractor was NASA and I had high clearance into working with and developing their audio equipment that they use with astronauts in space and on the International Space Station. I often worked alone and late into the evening. There was a lot of security, but very few NASA employees that late at night. On one such evening I was asked to listen to an audio file recorded by a physicists monitoring incoming signals from the University of Berkley's Radio Astronomy Laboratory.

He pulled me into a room and placed headphones onto my ears. Listen, he said. Tell me what you think. What you will hear is impossible. We have no one on Mars. No one. He kept repeating this. I listened to a few of his recordings. They were impossible.

The physicist was excited and made a call. I scanned his equipment and noted the frequency. When he returned he was very nervous and sweaty and asked me to leave. He said he should never have involved me and asked me not to say that he did.

The next day I was followed by two men in a Black Crown Vic on my way to work. That morning I was laid off from ADL. They said there wasn't enough work to keep me on. The Crown Vic was in the parking lot. When I returned to my apartment, it was ransacked. Someone was looking for something.

But the thing I never featured on my resume was that I had a photographic memory and I remembered that specific frequency. The frequency.

That was the reason for all this. Whatever the hell was going on I needed to find out.

My identity shall remain anonymous.

My location unknown.

The frequency unidentified.

But let's start at the beginning. Here then, is the first recording received. I shall proceed to record and publish these messages because the future depends on it. Your future depends on it.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.