able to break the code to a certain point, they’ll get a whole lot of misinformation.”
“So once you get something that looks like a real message, it’s not?”
“Exactly. The real message is a further two lines down. You have to keep decoding it. Ginjo thinks that most people are inherently lazy and won’t commit to continuing to decode when it appears they’ve got a legitimate message staring them in the face.”
“It must take real talent to embed a false message within the code.”
Tanka sighed. “Talent? I guess so. But most of us think that old Ginjo might be getting a bit touched in the head in his old age. And frankly, it’s a pain in the backside to have to handle such a decoding. It would be far easier to not make it this complex.”
“But less secure, too,” said Ran. “Seems like Ginjo might know best in this case.”
“I suppose. I’d just like to see him have to decode one of his own messages sometime and let him feel what a delight it is to sit here for the better part of an hour.” Tanka refreshed the ink in his quill and began writing again.
Ran watched as the script continued to flow, recognizing certain characters and not knowing others. As Tanka worked, tiny beads of sweat pooled on his brow. Ran poured him a cup of water and brought it over. Tanka took it with a grin.
“Thanks.”
“You look like you need it.” Ran pulled a chair up again. “Almost done?”
“Not just yet. One more series to go through and I should have it complete.” Tanka nodded at the candle above them, which had burned down low. “It’s already taken far too long as it is. If this was some sort of emergency, imagine trying to decode it. Sometimes the precautions get to be a bit overkill. We need a quicker alternative.”
“Do you have to encode them the same way?”
Tanka sighed. “Thankfully not. We use a simpler method, which helps in the event of a crisis or something urgent. I wonder if Ginjo simply does this to keep all of his former students up to the task of dealing with his codes.” He set the quill down. “There. Finally.”
Ran peered over his shoulder. “Well?”
Tanka read the message and then handed it over. “I’m sorry, Ran. I know how much you wanted to leave with the caravan.”
Ran looked down and read:
Agent hereby ordered to proceed north and fully investigate claims of forthcoming invasion.
Ran frowned and handed the message back. Tanka took it and held the parchment to the candle flame. The fire licked its way up and over the edges, curling the paper up as it did so. Ran watched the ink bubble again and then dissolve into dark ash. Tanka held it until the last possible second before dropping it onto the table, where it burned itself out. Tanka dutifully gathered the ashes, carried them to the window, and sprinkled them upon the breeze.
“Well, so much for that.” He turned away from the window and nodded at Ran. “When will you leave?”
Ran shrugged. “Tomorrow is as good a day as any, I’d expect. Can you set me up with some supplies?”
Tanka nodded. “I’ve got a store of dried-food provisions. You’ll have to acquire any cold-weather gear on the way. It would look a bit suspicious to send you out of town wearing heavy garb and boots.”
“Good point. I’m sure there are towns along the way north I can stop at.”
Tanka went to his shelf and drew out a map of northern Igul. “There’s Kalang-yao, which is about the last outpost of civilization before the Shard Mountains. No doubt you can find what you need there. If I were you, I’d make my trip north as quick as possible. From what I’ve heard, Kalang-yao is not the most hospitable place. The locals are wary and a hard folk to get along with.”
“Why so?”
“The proximity of the mountains makes them hard. Living up there is nothing short of a struggle year round.”
“So why stay?”
“The locals hunt the ice tigers that live in the snowy mountains. Ice tiger pelts are prized by
“So once you get something that looks like a real message, it’s not?”
“Exactly. The real message is a further two lines down. You have to keep decoding it. Ginjo thinks that most people are inherently lazy and won’t commit to continuing to decode when it appears they’ve got a legitimate message staring them in the face.”
“It must take real talent to embed a false message within the code.”
Tanka sighed. “Talent? I guess so. But most of us think that old Ginjo might be getting a bit touched in the head in his old age. And frankly, it’s a pain in the backside to have to handle such a decoding. It would be far easier to not make it this complex.”
“But less secure, too,” said Ran. “Seems like Ginjo might know best in this case.”
“I suppose. I’d just like to see him have to decode one of his own messages sometime and let him feel what a delight it is to sit here for the better part of an hour.” Tanka refreshed the ink in his quill and began writing again.
Ran watched as the script continued to flow, recognizing certain characters and not knowing others. As Tanka worked, tiny beads of sweat pooled on his brow. Ran poured him a cup of water and brought it over. Tanka took it with a grin.
“Thanks.”
“You look like you need it.” Ran pulled a chair up again. “Almost done?”
“Not just yet. One more series to go through and I should have it complete.” Tanka nodded at the candle above them, which had burned down low. “It’s already taken far too long as it is. If this was some sort of emergency, imagine trying to decode it. Sometimes the precautions get to be a bit overkill. We need a quicker alternative.”
“Do you have to encode them the same way?”
Tanka sighed. “Thankfully not. We use a simpler method, which helps in the event of a crisis or something urgent. I wonder if Ginjo simply does this to keep all of his former students up to the task of dealing with his codes.” He set the quill down. “There. Finally.”
Ran peered over his shoulder. “Well?”
Tanka read the message and then handed it over. “I’m sorry, Ran. I know how much you wanted to leave with the caravan.”
Ran looked down and read:
Agent hereby ordered to proceed north and fully investigate claims of forthcoming invasion.
Ran frowned and handed the message back. Tanka took it and held the parchment to the candle flame. The fire licked its way up and over the edges, curling the paper up as it did so. Ran watched the ink bubble again and then dissolve into dark ash. Tanka held it until the last possible second before dropping it onto the table, where it burned itself out. Tanka dutifully gathered the ashes, carried them to the window, and sprinkled them upon the breeze.
“Well, so much for that.” He turned away from the window and nodded at Ran. “When will you leave?”
Ran shrugged. “Tomorrow is as good a day as any, I’d expect. Can you set me up with some supplies?”
Tanka nodded. “I’ve got a store of dried-food provisions. You’ll have to acquire any cold-weather gear on the way. It would look a bit suspicious to send you out of town wearing heavy garb and boots.”
“Good point. I’m sure there are towns along the way north I can stop at.”
Tanka went to his shelf and drew out a map of northern Igul. “There’s Kalang-yao, which is about the last outpost of civilization before the Shard Mountains. No doubt you can find what you need there. If I were you, I’d make my trip north as quick as possible. From what I’ve heard, Kalang-yao is not the most hospitable place. The locals are wary and a hard folk to get along with.”
“Why so?”
“The proximity of the mountains makes them hard. Living up there is nothing short of a struggle year round.”
“So why stay?”
“The locals hunt the ice tigers that live in the snowy mountains. Ice tiger pelts are prized by
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