Code(39)

Shelton leaned forward. “How much time do we have left?”

Looking left, then right, I checked the iPad. T-minus twelve hours, and counting.

“If we don’t solve this by midnight, we lose. Whatever that means.”

“The Gamemaster told us what it means.” Shelton hugged his body with both arms. “Boom. Somewhere. Could be anywhere. Innocent people are gonna get hurt.”

His words chilled me. I’d lost focus on the danger. On what failure could mean.

We have to take this seriously. We have to win.

“Meet after school?” Hi suggested. “Unless you wanna ditch English and leave earlier. I’m fine with skipping old lady Mixon’s dramatic interpretation of John Milton.”

“It’s not worth the risk.” I bagged my trash and set the tray aside. “We don’t want to draw any extra attention. We have all afternoon. That should be enough time.”

“I don’t know, Tor.” Shelton eyed the iPad with apprehension. “I’ve tried a dozen ciphers. None worked, and I’m out of ideas. It might be time to tell the cops. If we can’t break the code, shouldn’t we give them a shot?”

Hi nodded reluctantly. “He’s right. We can’t just twiddle our thumbs while the clock runs out. What if the iPad itself is a bomb?”

“Agreed.” I’d come to the same conclusion. “We’ll give it one last shot at the bunker. If we strike out again, we’ll call the police.”

I glanced back down at the screen.


12:01:57. 12:01:56. 12:01:55 . . .





CHAPTER 21





“Give me your secrets, dammit!”

Hi slapped the iPad in disgust. Cooper’s ears perked, then he returned to gnawing his Greenie bone.

Two hours had gotten us nowhere. Time was slipping away.

“We’re done.” Shelton sat across the table from Hi and me. “Let’s bring in the law dogs before it’s too late.”

“We can’t break the rules.” Ben spun the computer chair to face us. “Talk, and the Gamemaster will detonate.”

“Since when do you care so much about rules?” Shelton huffed. “And the bomb’s going off anyway, if we can’t crack the puzzle. This picture could be anything!”

I stared at the image: the figure 18, surrounded by letters and numbers, inside a black circle. All within a blue circle, and topped by a K.

What does it mean? What are we missing?

“We need to try something else.” I stood and began to pace. “Another approach. Some new way of looking at the problem.”

“I’ve tried everything,” Shelton said. “There’s no structure. How are we supposed to decode words without a pattern?”

Hi’s gaze found the ceiling. “This is killing me.”

Ben swiveled back to the computer and resumed surfing.

I stopped. “Maybe there isn’t a pattern.”

“No pattern?” Shelton sounded at a loss. “Then forget decoding the message.”

I shook my head, unsure where I was going. “Maybe it’s not a message. At least, not a straightforward one like last time.”

Retaking my seat, I scribbled the letters and numbers on a blank sheet of paper: CH3OHHBRCH3BRH2O. And got nothing. Inspiration failed to arrive. “We should’ve skipped class.”

Hiram shot to his feet. “Chemistry!”

“Relax,” Shelton said. “The paper isn’t due till Monday.”

“No! No!” Hi finger-jabbed my notepad. “Look at the last three characters. H2O! What are we, idiots? That’s the chemical formula for water!”

“You’re right!” Shelton got it instantly. “It’s not a message, it’s a chemical equation!”

“Then let’s solve it.” Digging for my chemistry text. “This must be a list of different compounds. We need to identify them.”

Ben joined us at the table. “Finally, some progress.”

“Sixteen characters.” I drew a line creating two groups of eight. “If you cut the sequence at its midpoint, both halves start with CH3.”

“Methyl,” Hi said confidently. “But it’s usually bonded with something else.”

“O is oxygen, and H is hydrogen. Then another H.” I bit my lower lip. “That must begin a new compound, or else it’d be H2 instead.”

I drew a second line through the first group, dividing CH3OH and HBR.

“The equation has to balance.” Hi was pointing to the second grouping: CH3BRH2O. “Nothing’s lost in a chemical reaction.”

“And we know the last part is water,” Ben added. “H2O.”

Nodding, I drew a third line. “Then that’s it. CH3OH. HBR. CH3BR. H2O. The first two compounds must react to form the second two.”

“Balanced,” Hi agreed. “On paper, it works.”

“First is CH3OH.” I scanned the index of my textbook. Bingo. “Methanol. A simple alcohol—light, colorless, flammable. Used as an antifreeze, a solvent, and fuel.”

Shelton took notes as I spoke. “Next?”

HBR. “Hmmm. Not listed.”

“That’s hydrogen and bromine.” Hi ran a search on the computer. “Together they produce hydrogen bromide, a nonflammable gas. Forms hydrobromic acid in water. It’s used to make lots of stuff.”