Now Elias lived in a converted storage unit behind a defunct radio tower in the Mojave. His only companions: a Tascam 388 reel-to-reel, a crate of NOS vacuum tubes, and a stack of out-of-print Journal of Psychoacoustics from the 1970s.
His hands were shaking. He looked at the tape reel. The oxide pattern had changed—the magnetic domains had rearranged themselves into a spiral, a fingerprint, a signature. the undertone bd9
The undertone stopped.