Cloud Hands

‘Try slowing it down.’

The technician adjusted a few settings on her console and the audio squeak changed to a whine. As the frequency dropped further, discrete pulses could be discerned.

‘Well, it’s not speech and it’s not music. Any ideas?’ said the General looking around the table.

A nervous cough caught the group’s attention:

‘I think we’re listening to a message in Morse Code.’

‘Why’s that, John?’

John looked down at his desk:

’It’s a bit of a hobby of mine. Although a lot of people think Morse Code is dead but lots of people like me …..’

‘Spare us the tutorial. Can you decipher it?’

‘It’s too fast. Can you slow it down some more?’

The technician obliged.

My name is Yulia, I’m fifteen years old. They invaded six months ago, ending my simple happy life. When they found me hiding in a cellar, they raped me and disfigured my face. They killed my brothers and my parents. I became a hollow shell that slowly filled with hate. Hate for the invaders and shame for what they had done to me.

It was now easy to hear the longer and shorter pulses.

‘Can you wind it back to the start and speed it up just a tad?’

John grabbed some notepaper and started writing as the code played.

After a long few minutes, the General gestured for the signal to stop,

‘What does it say John?’

John looked up from his scribbling, annoyed at being interrupted:

‘As far as I can tell, troop locations, movements, weaponry and general chit-chat in the ranks.

Comments from the meeting members could be heard above the excited murmurs:

‘This could be dynamite.’

‘Yes, but is it real?’

‘I think it’s a hoax.’

The General called for silence:

‘John, you’re not to leave this room until all the signal has been deciphered. Steve, check for any other transmissions and hand them to John if you find them. Most important, nothing of this leaves the meeting. If anyone is found even hinting about this to their departments, spouses, lovers or friends, I will personally see them locked up for a very long time.’

My new life is a lie. It helps me forget the old Yulia and the family she loved. I move freely among the occupying troops on my bicycle with magazines, chocolates; anything I can sell, including my body. The men tolerate ‘crazy Yulia’ maybe feeling some guilt before they get drunk and fuck me. All the time I’m listening and looking.

I allow myself one precious childhood memory. When I couldn’t sleep my mother would tell me to imagine I was a cloud moving across the bright blue sky. As I pass over water, I reach down to it with one hand and then the other, scooping the water up. I become full and I rain on the dry earth making forests, flowers and crops.

The group members filed out. Only the General and John remained, John finally put down his pencil.

‘What’ve you got?’

‘This is fantastic. We have what could be top class intelligence on troop movements, weapon deployment, troop morale and numbers. There’s also some very good gossip on future field tactics and strategy. I’d stake my reputation, such as it is, that this is not a hoax.’

The General pondered for a moment:

‘Any idea who’s sending it?’

‘None at all. The transmission isn’t encrypted unless you count speeding up the signal as encryption, and the call-sign is ‘Cloud Hands’ which I’ve never heard of. This has not come from the resistance or any other group we know. I’d guess that the originator is someone working alone.’

‘Lone operators seldom last long,’ said the General. ‘I’ll give this top priority and get any further transmissions to you as they happen.’

I’ve been caught and arrested and I await my fate. They found the equipment I use for recording and speeding up my transmissions. I can only hope the information got to someone. They haven’t discovered the transmitter yet which is hidden in my bicycle. Under torture, I will tell them everything I know. They won’t believe I was working alone. I hope my end comes quickly and I can once again be Yulia and join my family in Heaven.

©Steve Luckham
November 2022