The Visitor (A Light Away From Home, Chapter Four)

Last time, Cal left his tripod on the summit, switched off his headlamp and walked down into the dark. He passed the orange posts and the warning signs, lay flat while a patrol truck’s headlights slid over him, and crawled under the fence to the edge of the hangars. A side door was propped open. When he pushed it wider, he had the strangest feeling that he wasn’t alone.

This is chapter four of A Light Away From Home, a story told in six songs and six sets of graphic-novel panels. The mountain is real. Everything that happens in the story is made up.

Tonight Cal finds out what was waiting at the end of that corridor. It’s the quietest and strangest chapter so far, and it’s where the story really starts to turn. It’s also where a new colour arrives in the panels. Keep an eye on the turquoise. It belongs to only one character.

“The Visitor” is the quietest song in the series so far. Almost nothing moves at first: a low hum, deep, echoing space, a soft brushed beat and the theremin so close it feels like it’s in the room with you. Glitchy textures flicker like failing lights. Cal whispers, or sings in a thin falsetto, and for the first time another voice answers him: a processed, machine-like vocoder voice for the Visitor. Late on, a reverb-soaked guitar slowly swells into a solo, and then everything falls away to footsteps in a far corridor.

At the end of the corridor, a light

The corridor goes on and on, past tall racks of blinking, humming equipment.

Racks of machines, humming to nobody

The offices are empty, as if everyone left in a hurry.

Every office empty. Coffee still warm.

At the very end, there’s a heavy door with a small window, and a soft light flickering through it.

Turquoise, through the wire glass

Inside, the room is dim and cold. Along the far wall, someone has laid out scorched, shimmering pieces of something that isn’t from any plane.

Pieces of something that fell from the sky

And beside them, something is curled up on the floor.

Something small, curled by the wreck

It’s hurt, and it’s frightened. Then it lifts its head.

Eyes like black water

It doesn’t open its mouth, but Cal hears it anyway.

Who are you?
A voice that isn't a sound

He puts the camera down, shows it his empty hands and answers the only way he can, in a whisper.

Just a man who watches the sky

It looks at him for a long time. Slowly, its light stops flickering.

You are not one of them.

Then it reaches towards him. Out in the corridor, someone walks past the door.

Listen on Suno:
https://suno.com/song/d6bd89d9-2082-44e6-93fa-3c6ee02eb090

The Visitor is about to show Cal why it’s so afraid. Chapter five, “A Light Away From Home”, arrives on Wednesday 28 October at 8pm UK time. Subscribe to the blog so you don’t miss it.

More Kaiser Maschine on Suno: https://suno.com/@kaisermaschine
Kaiser Maschine on Bandcamp: https://kaisermaschine.bandcamp.com

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