CHAPTER 13
James had borrowed Rodney's computer magazine to read in bed, for something different to think about. The article on the code program intrigued him, but he fell asleep before he finished it, and spent half the night dreaming of very important secret messages, which, when he put them into the computer, came out as extremely rude - and he had to tell his mother what they said!
He woke with a start just as he was facing her wrath at telling her the worst one of all - and with an idea! What was the time? Oh no, it was 4.00 am. He couldn't wake Rodney now.
Making sure the door was shut so that the light would not seep into the corridor, he switched on the lamp by his bed, and re-read the article on Caesar's Code.
'This form of cipher, which is a very famous one' ("Really, I hadn't heard of it!") 'was invented by Julius Caesar,' he read. 'It has been widely used down the ages, and is very simple. The method is to displace each of the letters of the message you want to code a certain number of letters down the alphabet from where it should be. In this form of cipher, the displacement is the same for each letter of the message.'
Oh.
So, say 'James', and move the letters four down the alphabet, you get... He couldn't work that out in his sleepy state. However, he was beginning to see the point.
Now, if the code was all that old, maybe Abbot William had used it!
The article went on, as Rodney had mentioned earlier, to describe a computer program that would work out the shift for you and so decipher the code. Here it was, listed on this page. Tomorrow, after church, they would type that in and try it!
He went back to sleep with the light on, satisfied he had found the answer. The magazine fell to the floor with a thud.
Over breakfast the next morning, he told Rodney his idea. Rodney was a little peeved at not having thought of it himself - it was his magazine, after all - but agreed that they should try it. Why not now?
"No," said James. "We may need help from the Vicar, and anyway, I want to look at the chapel again without rousing too much interest from the grown-ups!"
"Going to church will probably rouse enough," muttered Rodney, whose mother was still stunned at his sudden conversion to religion.
So at 10.15 off they set down the road, Rodney in his best clothes and James looking not too disreputable in a clean shirt of Rodney's (fortunately not too tight) and his own spare trousers - his jeans were rather muddy from the well. He had brushed down his anorak and the dried mud had mostly come off. He thought he looked tidy, anyway.
The lady at the church door handed each of them two slim leaflets with glossy covers and a hymnbook.
"Where can we sit?" asked James.
"Anywhere you like," she smiled. "Nice to see you."
They went down the front and sat where there was a view into the chapel. Today the winter sun was brighter - it shone through the stained glass, livening up the Victorian children playing with daisy chains around Jesus's feet, brushing up the fleeces of the lambs, and glowing through Abbot William's glass Madonna with her mysterious smile. Trees and little buildings shone around and above her, as she kept her secret to herself.
"At least it's warm today," mumbled Rodney. "Not like when it's not used."
James agreed. He looked all round him. There were quite a few young people here, he saw, and - interesting this - some youngsters had set up a small orchestra to one side of the chancel arch and were tuning up their guitars.
The choir filed in - there were a few boys of their own age there, Rodney recognised one from their school - and the service began.
It was easy to follow from the leaflet - which was printed with colour pictures on each page ("For kids, of course!" whispered James to Rodney, but he looked at them all just the same). They sang two hymns from the hymnbook (with the organ), and two songs from the other leaflet, backed by the orchestra - and they went with a swing! And finally they sang "Onward Christian Soldiers" complete with a rousing beat from the drums and trumpet sounds from the organ.
"You know, I really enjoyed that!" said Rodney to James. "I didn't know church was like that!"
"Mandy did say the vicar was 'trendy'," said James, "but if that's what it means, I don't mind at all!"
When everyone was getting up and milling around, the two boys wandered off into Abbot William's chapel, where the Vicar found them.
"Good to see you!" he beamed. "Still interested in old William then?"
"Yes, we are," replied James. "We've still got your book and we've been doing a lot of research when we can." (One way of putting it!) "We just thought we'd have another look in here."
"You're welcome," said the Vicar, and off he went about his own business.
"I knew I'd find you here!" said a voice. They turned to see Mandy standing beneath the chapel screen.
"You were here too? I didn't see you."
"No, I was at the back. But I don't want to be left out of this, you know."
"How are things at home?" asked James warily.
"Oh, OK," said Mandy non-committally.
James was really too interested in his surroundings to notice that Mandy was keeping something back, but the mysterious designs yielded no new clue that he could discover.
As they walked back to Rodney's house, James explained his idea to his sister. Mandy, of course, wanted to be there when they tried it out, and it was arranged she would come over after lunch.
"You realise, James," she said as she left them at Rodney's gate, "you must come home tonight!"
That remark cast a shadow over James for a while, but lunch soon cheered him up. Another of Mrs Omatola's great successes - roast beef with (for James) some quite unusual trimmings and a deep - and gooey - treacle tart to follow. It was two satisfied and well-fed boys who settled down at the computer that afternoon.
Mandy arrived and came to join them. Finding Rodney tapping in a letter at a time, picking at the keys, she offered to type in the listing.
"I am getting on really well with typing," she said.
So they let her do the hard work and soon the program was all typed in, checked carefully and saved.
"Here goes then!" said Mandy.
"RUN"she typed, and pressed Enter.
A message appeared:-
"Syntax error in 100".
Another check revealed that a colon had become a semi-colon. ("Ha, thought you were a good typist, Mandy!") This was corrected, saved and then:
"RUN"
This time it worked.
"Type in word and press Enter" said the computer.
"You have to put capitals on," said Rodney, studying the magazine.
"Then you put in one word from the coded message, and it gives you lots of samples of what it looks like as you go down the alphabet," added James. "But which word do we use - if there are any words here?"
"How about the first three letters of the code," suggested Mandy. "That should give us some idea."
Rodney fetched the copy of Abbot William's code.
Mandy typed in "MUJ".
The computer came up with "NVK".
"No," said Mandy. She pressed the down arrow key.
This time it flashed up "OWL".
"That's a word," said Rodney. "Now press Enter. Then type in all of the code."
Mandy said, "There's no point in putting all of it in. See where the dots separate the letters? I'll just type the first three sections."
They all crowded round to see what the screen would come up with.
"OWLEAJPEW0AP0OYEAJPEW"
There was a general gasp of "Oh!"
"That's no good. Try again!" ordered James.
So Mandy once more typed in the first three letters, but this time pressed the down arrow more times, producing:-
"NVK" "OWL" "PXM" "QYN" "RZO" "SAP" "TBQ" "UCR" "VDS" "WET"
"We found it in a well!" cried Rodney. "'Wet' may be right!"
However, this time they were confronted by "WETMIRXME".
"Foiled!" Mandy sighed.
"One more go," said James. "Let's put in all of the letters before the first dot this time. Maybe, as you said, the dots separate words. P'raps we won't get much sense unless we put in the whole word."
"MUJCYHNCU" typed Mandy.
"NUKDZIODV" "OWLEAJPEW" "PXMFBKQFX" "QYNGCLRGY" "SAPIENTIA" said the computer.
"Stop, Mandy," yelled James as she was poised to press the arrow again. "That's a Latin word or I'm an alien!"
"You are!" muttered Mandy, but she did not press the arrow - she pressed Enter instead.
"Now put in the whole of Abbot William's code!" ordered James.
"Slave driver," sighed Mandy, reaching for the piece of paper to copy the code from. "Tell you what," she said, "I'm going to put a space where he has a dot. I was right, these are separate words."
Everyone held their breath, glued to the screen.
When she had typed all the strange words, Mandy pressed the Enter key. The response was instant.
"SAPIENTIA ET SCIENTIA DICUNT IN DOMO DAVID LUMEN DIVITIASQUE INVENITE"
Their first feeling was of disappointment. It made no more sense to them than the original code.
"The only word that means anything is 'David'," groaned Rodney.
"It is Latin!" shouted James after staring at it for while. "We have cracked it!"
"But we don't know any Latin," wailed Mandy. "So how can we ever know what it means?"
"Haven't you any brains?" demanded her brother. "We ask the vicar, that's how!"
"Won't he wonder where we got it from?" asked Rodney.
"I expect I'll think of some way round that," said James.
