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Revolution

Welcome to Mr J's Puzzle room 3.0 the Revolution!
Where should your journey be?
 
Chapter one

15th April

Induction day today, plenty of oak trimmed orientation, lecture halls (with selective lighting) and over polished busts of previous professors. I was signed in and herded between halls and houses, theatres and canteens, locker rooms and lounges, all had that over-cleaned feel. Perhaps I will learn to adore these things over time, but for now, for today, they feel like other people's histories not mine.
beer brewing town at J13
 
Chapter two

16th April

Spent most of my time in the library today with the orientation sessions still herding through. But the sanctuary and seclusion students seek is obviously here, all around, everyone is in books and papers, headphones on, ear pods in, tuning out from the hustle all around. I found it hard to find a place, I ended up using a shelf near the speculative fiction section.
A portrait in white, reveals with the X-ray of light. But Class, First and Autumn are cursed. Which leaves only one for the keyword turf.
 
Chapter three

17th April

Took my cans in today, really fabulous noise cancelling head phones to dial out those tours. Bring back the shushing mentality please, it's like a crèche in here at times! Still super busy though, I found a toasty little spot on the carpet by an iron radiator but struggled to get the noise cancelling function working. No matter what, I could still hear background chatter, never had that issue before.
Freeda is hiding a secret but where did she visit on her grand tour?
 
Chapter four

April 18th

Bit quieter in the library today, a few of the characters with big head phones that wouldn't be out of place on a demolition site weren't in. Great for me though, I actually got a desk with lamp and charger socket. Though had to take my head phones off, they still seem to be picking up chatter rather than cancelling it out. It was quieter without them on, crazy.
Words from the fire.
 
Chapter five

19th April

About a dozen free desks today, so I had my pick of the place and the tours seem to be finally illustrating a modicum of social distancing! I found a spot over in the corner by the philosophy, the comfiest chair and usually a bearded guy sits here pretending to read. I know that look, he was just listening to the sport or something on his phones I'm sure. No sign of him today though, so I nabbed the spot with a convenient charger slot too. Though, when I plugged in I could hear dialogue quite clear. Something about the Maharaja and the Indian ruling classes.

Found a great little pathe film which I've put on the iPad, worth a watch though don't think it's related to what's going on here.
Name of the author for the keyword below.
 
Chapter six

20th April

Only a handful in today and every one of them with phones or buds in their ears. I am calling them 'the listeners' since they are obviously not here to read. I nabbed the leather chair again and plugged in, but as I settled in I watched a librarian tap one of the listeners on the shoulder. I don't know what she said but he quickly gathered up his kit and was ushered out by security guards and judging by the look on his face, it was as if she were taking him to a firing squad or torture chamber!

As I left today, I passed his desk and noticed, 9.14 was scribbled on his jotter.
What is the CHARLES FROHMAN'S PRODUCTION ? The answer will move the story forward.
 
Chapter seven

21st April

So today I slipped past the local history section, I've watched a few of the listeners furtively slip a book from that stack and was curious what they were hunting. I saw a small green book being slipped off yesterday more than once and then quickly returned. The book was obviously out of place, fiction amongst facts, like a real gem amongst paste stones.

I could see a few twitching listeners collectively holding their breath as I ran my fingers along the spines, I instinctively knew which one to stop on, as if my fingers were a compass and the book spine magnetised. I withdrew it from the shelf with my back to the floor. Inside the front cover was the booking imprint, a sticker with metal coil inside. Every book had one of these, even the reference only, they were for automating the booking out although this one seemed fatter than normal, as if two had been stuck in by mistake.

I flicked through a few pages and could hear my headphones switch between static and audio as if I were dialling a station. The pages then naturally opened at a slim paper bookmark with a short, hand written list. A string of a dozen dates and times were followed by a dewey decimal ref numbers which I took a swift photo of before slipping the book quickly back.

The librarian was on the move again and a security guard was talking into his radio. I weirdly lost my nerve and slipped outside for some fresh air trying to comprehend what was happening here.

But one thing is for sure, tomorrow I will be back, 22nd April was on the list with 9.14 am next to it, just like on yesterdays joker but what will I find!
what3words location?
 
Chapter eight

22nd April

I memorised the numbers, and deleted the picture on my phone. I'm getting a bit paranoid, I know something is up as there were no listeners at any of the desks when I arrived. The librarian watched me come in today, she's never even noticed me before and now I could feel her eyes boring at me. I'd kept my cans in my bag, but it was if she were staring at them regardless.

I tucked myself in at the end of a stack, out of sight and with one eye on the front desk and with varied means of escape. The broadcast was coming I knew, the chatter the head phones picked up was just talk, conversations dialled in through the atmospherics of the library somehow. I knew the RFID coil had something to do with it too along with the dewey decimal number. Together all these parts, along with perhaps the very heating and electrical system of the library enabled you to, (in some crazy clandestine Netflix narrative style) to dial in.

At 9.14 it began, the broadcast was quite clear and obviously, there was no preamble, no segway or chatter, this was stand alone. The first words were simple, but they struck me, and resonated to the core, it began with the last bars of Gill Scott-Heron, The revolution will not be televised.

You will not have to worry about a germ on your Bedroom
a tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl
The revolution will not go better with Coke
The revolution will not fight the germs that cause bad breath
The revolution WILL put you in the driver's seat
The revolution will not be televised
WILL not be televised, WILL NOT BE TELEVISED
The revolution will be no re-run brothers
The revolution will be live

A second voice then began.

Thank you for dialling in, for our friends across continents and behind boarders, in libraries, in war zones, in mobile homes, in sleepy towns, in basement apartments, in public bandstands. Once you have the dewey code, dial in and listen out, for

But at that moment I felt a hand on my shoulder and behind me the librarian straddled by two security guards. . . . .