Little is known about Konstantin Tschechow, the first and last time we met was around the turn of the millennium in the small city of Koenigsbrueck in the far east of Germany. It was during one of my regular night strolls through the countryside, when I ran into him accidentally. He was standing there in the middle of nowhere leaning on the fence of a train yard where he was, as he said "recording silence". I found that very interesting and we got to talk to each other. After a long conversation about everybody and his dog we found out that we were both Grandsons of Afrika Bambaataa. We planned to hang out more often so we exchanged phone numbers and he gave me a CDR with some of his recordings before he disappeared. A couple of weeks later I called him up to ask if we could meet, but he told me that he had to leave the country because the local authorities found out that he illegally immigrated from Aldebaran. Before I could say "to hell with this fascist stat