Codebreaker
E Thomas

 

Cwen felt her interlink warn her of an incoming call. Glancing down she saw the name of Vojak Fahim, her Spymaster, flash on the datascreen.
“Excuse me a moment, gentlemen,” the leader of Ere told her ministers. She was currently in a committee meeting with representatives from the provinces discussing the economic effect of some new tax laws. Normally she wouldn’t interrupt a meeting like this, but Spymaster Vojak knew where she was and would never call her like this but for emergencies. Stepping away from the long, central table and into a corner of the plush room, she expanded her interlink so that the microphone and speaker appeared, and the datascreen enlarged to show a picture of the green-eyed Spymaster.
“What is it, Spymaster Vojak?”
“Bad news, your Majesty. We have just confirmed a plot to assassinate you. And there is evidence to suggest your royal cousin Jocelin had a hand in this,” said Vojak in his medium-pitched tenor. Jocelin, Queen of Schotten, was Cwen Empress’s first cousin, once removed. She had also been Queen of Cois for a short period of time, because of her marriage to the short-lived Fraco, King of Cois.
After his death she had fled the country, ousted by rival nobility who now reigned as regents for her two-year-old son, the heir to the throne. She turned back to Schot, hoping to find solace in the land of her birth. However, religious upheaval was taking place in this country. Nouveax were rapidly gaining a foothold in the predominantly Gammelt land and the tensions between zealous Nouveax leaders and the government were only increased when the Gammelt Queen returned. The explosion came a year later when a Noveaux rebellion forced Jocelin to once again flee from danger.
This time, though, the choice of where to flee to was limited. She could not go back to Cois unless she wanted to risk being used a pawn for the Cois ministers to gain control of the Schots throne. Ere, kingdom of her cousin Cwen, was her only refuge. Unfortunately, Jocelin had miscalculated the effects of her presence. Immediately, assassination plots began forming, all intent on removing the Nouveaux Cwen from the throne of Ere and placing the Gammelt Jocelin on it. Cwen Empress was finally forced to confine the rival Queen in a series of palaces and keep her under guard constantly. Yet the plots continued to form.
“You are sure Jocelin Queen had something to do with it?” whispered Cwen, not wanting the ministers to overhear. Sensitive information like this could not be broadcast without corroborating evidence.
“We do not have confirmation, your Majesty, but it is highly likely,” he replied.
“Highly likely is no good. We are going to schedule a briefing later tonight. Call who you think necessary and meet us at Conference Room 384a9 at nine o’clock,” Cwen sharply commanded.
“Yes, your Majesty,” said the Spymaster with a bow of his fair head. Terminating the link, Cwen turned back to face her curious ministers.
“Our thanks for your patience, gentlemen,” said she as she hid her concern over the news she had just received. “Now, shall we continue with the agenda?”

The meeting was held in one of the many conference rooms in the Government Base located in Ere‘s capital city, Mont. Soundproofed, synthetic mahogany walls and doors protected from prying ears. No windows were in this room at all, protecting from the double threat of spies or assassins. Guards of Raven Level, the only ones allowed to have laser eyes, patrolled the outer hallway. They had just run a sweep of the room to make sure no bugs had been planted in the room. Conference Room 384a9 was as impenetrable as the most advanced technology in the galaxy could make it.
Here were assembled some of the closest confidants of the Empress of Ere. Her Prime Advisor, leader of all ministers, was here, but currently communicating via his interlink with his secretary. Security required him to keep his datascreen closed so that his secretary could not see where he was. The Royal Ilsoal was also there scanning through some messages on the partially interlinked table. He was second-in-command in the kingdom and the right hand of the Empress. Off in a corner was the Keli’i of Security. He had also brought up some files on the table and was busily writing a message. The Stoix, Publius Ghoshal, was working on perfecting a speech for the Word Gatherers. His job as the main link between the Empress and her people required him to give daily reports to them to report back to the populace. Finally, at one end of the table sat the Spymaster, arms folded, calmly waiting for the beginning of the conference. Cwen herself hadn’t show up yet, but the people assembled hardly voiced complaint. Their Empress would take extra care that she wasn’t followed to this meeting.
At 9:16, Cwen Empress finally appeared. She gave a mischievous smile of apology to those in the room, confirming their thoughts. Gliding to her chair at the head of the table, she gracefully sat down. Spymaster Vojak started his presentation as soon as Cwen had taken her seat.
“We are here concerning the foiled assassination plot against our Empress.” As he spoke, a datascreen lifted from the table and hung suspended in the air. “The known facts stand as this. A Barbery Imrah instigated this plot.” The picture of a brunette man appeared on the screen. Of stocky build, he was nonetheless comely with his wide, rakish grin. “ He is five and thirty years of age and is a fanatical Gammelt. His grievance against us is that we executed his father and older brother for disorderliness when he was a lad.” The picture had shifted now to two other men in restraining gear. Guards were swarming around them as they were lead off. “Since then he has studied in Cois, where his desire for revenge was fed by the Gammelt government. He returned to Ere by all accounts a respectable, self-contained man whose wealth was based on maintaining his family business. However, now we have found out that in his spare time he would gather with other Gammelts in local inns to discuss politics. Working on the resentment felt by most to our Nouveaux government, he incited many of the men to form a plot against her Majesty. They were planning a coup in which they would attack her Majesty on her way to Saron next month, free Jocelin Queen, and place her on the throne. We have numerous witnesses to their treachery, as well as documents and recordings of their illicit meetings. We have arrested them and are now questioning them as to whether Jocelin Queen was aware and involved in the plot.”
“What leads you to suspect Jocelin Queen?” questioned Prime Advisor Derring Aubrey. As the head of the Ministers of State, he was concerned about the political consequences of accusing the Queen of Schot of abetting this plot.
“Jocelin Queen has an extensive spy network. She has ties to the governments of Cois and Nol, whose Gammelt leaders are eager to put Jocelin Queen in Cwen Empress’s throne. They communicate by a hidden way. Ministers of Cois or Nol send messages through an intermediary, one Hogyn Amraphel. He is a wealthy yeoman and has a Gammelt background. He even studied at the Tisan headquarters. The method of hiding the message is quite ingenious, really. Every time Hogyn receives a message, he goes down to the Schlub Inn.” The display had changed to a nondescript inn, only the sign marking it as different from the dozens of inns dotting the country. “That is the place that provides Beverage for Jocelin Queen. Sometime during his visit, he hands off the messages to one of the waitrons. The waitron takes the message to the owner of the inn, a Gammelt. He in turn takes the message and puts it in a waterproof pouch, which he then attaches in a container of Beverage. The Beverage is shipped to whatever palace Jocelin Queen is held in and one of her ladies-in-waiting removes the pouch from the container and takes it to the Queen. The same thing for message going the opposite way,” enumerated Vojak.
“How do you know all this in such great detail?” questioned the Royal Ilsoal, Jaeger Amorous. He was a close personal friend of the Empress’s, some said more, and worry lines were prematurely wrinkling his young face from the stresses of his position.
Glancing at Jaeger, the Spymaster allowed himself a small smirk. “What Jocelin Queen and her contacts do not know is that Hogyn is a double agent. I hired him a while ago and I am the one who suggested he take the role as intermediary. Thanks to him we have most of the messages sent back and forth between Jocelin Queen and Barbery,” he said.
“Well then, why can’t you proved Jocelin Queen’s involvement?” asked the irked Krieg Billie, Keli’i of Security. His highest priority now was to get rid of this threat to his Empress’s safety.
“The letters are all in code and we have not been able to decipher them,” Vojak stated flatly. “For all we know, Jocelin Queen was exchanging tips on lama breeding.” At the Spymaster’s obvious impatience, Cwen gave a snort of laughter.
“We understand Spymaster. What do you require to crack that code?” she asked.
“I have already contacted an eminent cryptanalyst your Majesty. I have a meeting with him tomorrow. I’m pretty sure he’ll do the job.”
“Fine, but remember, we’re not taking this to the tribunals until you have concrete evidence. We do not like the idea of executing a Queen. It might give others ideas,” said Cwen and with that she rose from her chair and slipped out of the room. She still had paperwork to do and there were spies to lose. The remaining gentlemen continued on without her, going over the details their Empress had entrusted to them.

Early the next morning, Spymaster Vojak could be seen slipping out of his chambers and stealthily into the streets. In a beat up old solar cruiser, he passed unnoticed through the crowds of people streaming onto the walks. Eyes darting left and right behind his pollution mask, Vojak assessed his surroundings. This early, it was mainly partiers who had yet to go to sleep who were littering the streets. Drunk on cheap knock-offs of Beverage, they stumbled back to their beds.
Finally arriving at the door he wanted, Vojak paused while a body scan was initiated. Properly identified, he slunk into the open portal and wound his way up the staircase. Hesitating at the top, he finally made his way into a room after the command of “Enter!” had been issued.
Glancing around him, Vojak’s eyes made contact with the surrounding vidlinked walls. Various charts and tables were pulled up, currently reflecting a historical context from the bygone eras. Poring over something in the middle of the left wall was the master code breaker, Brack Sabir. Careful to avoid the floating instruments around the room, Vojak made his way to this figure.
“What is it?” queried Vojak, peering at the strange symbols the wall was displaying.
“Sanskrit,” replied Brack. “I believe some of its grammar patterns are now being used in Nol’s codes. So what do you want?” Handing over his packet of letters, Vojak sat in a chair while Brack perused them. A gleam of interest could be detected in Brack's eyes now, and Vojak almost smiled knowing how easy it would be to ensure the expert’s cooperation. Slowly, so as not to disturb the man’s thinking trance, Vojak began to explain the presence of the letters.
“Those are letters from the Jocelin Queen to diplomats in Cois and Nol. We suspect they have something to do with an assassination plot against her majesty, Cwen Empress, but we need to understand the code for proof. Cwen Empress is...reluctant to sign the death warrant of her royal cousin,” Vojak explained.
“Humph,” was all the reply he got. Running a quick eye over the documents again, Brack turned back to the lounging man. “When do you want this?”
“At the earliest hour,”
“75,000 mercurium plus expenses”
“Done,” said Vojak as he gathered himself up and exited. Now to report back to the Empress. After that there was nothing to do, but wait. The Spymaster was content to do just that as minor plots had been piling up while he had focused on this case. Catching his thoughts, he smiled to himself. There was time enough for that later. Tonight there was a party to attend.

The rooftop garden of Hatfield Palace shone with the many lights placed along the paths. It was one of the largest gardens in the world. The fortune rumored to have been spent on the precious earth would have bought a small country. Roses, carnations, baby’s breath, and many other exotic flowers perfume the air. Lords and their Ladies in splendid costume wandered about talking animatedly and enjoying the sociable environment.
Cwen Empress shone like a bright star tonight. Her burning red hair and glowing golden dress lit up the night, while her rich, melodic laugh echoed throughout the paths. She fit perfectly into this sumptuous scene, reveling in the beauty and wealth. Pretty clothes and extravagant parties were two of the few pleasures she allowed herself. In addition, these events helped her to showcase her other passion, music. The private quartet in a shaded corner was from the last remaining music school in the solar system. No one was really interested in music, now that machines could simulate it. The quartet was playing one of the Empress’s compositions. Cwen Empress even planned to play herself later on in the evening. Yes, music was a central part of the Empress of Ere.
Tonight, as all the Lords and their Ladies mingled, talk turned to one subject, the Jocelin Queen. By now many had found about the foiled assassination plot and those who did not know were quickly told. Now gossip inquired as to whether Jocelin Queen had been a part of the plot. One of the bolder Lords, Lord Hazard confronted Prime Advisor Derring on the subject.
“So, what’s the verdict, Derring? Is she guilty of treason or not?” inquired Hazard.
Making an impatient noise, the Advisor replied,
“I do not know yet, Lord Hazard. We are still gathering evidence. We do not wish to be brash in this matter.”
“No, no, of course not. But Jocelin Queen’s aspects don’t look good, do they?” commented Hazard.
“As long as she did nothing wrong, Jocelin Queen's aspects are as secure as yours or mine,” returned Derring. Uncomfortably aware of the attention bestowed upon him by the ambassador from Cois, he changed the subject to more neutral ground. “Have you heard about that audacious thief going around pillaging databanks?”
Meanwhile, Cwen Empress herself was aware of the crowd’s preoccupation with the rumor of Jocelin Queen’s part in the affair. However, there was nothing for her do about it. She had to keep a pleasant face and pretend not to hear. At least she had the support of her Royal Ilsoal, Jaeger Amorous. This childhood friend was the only one she had trusted to occupy such a high ranking and personal office. He had never once disappointed her. Actually it had come to the point of people whispering of a romance between them. Ah, but how could she blame them? She really did play favorites.
Smiling at that thought, Cwen glided toward the spot where Jaeger stood. Tilting her head up every so slightly she whispered, “And is my Royal Ilsoal enjoying himself at this social function?” She never used the royal “our” with him.
“Of course. Has her Majesty, Cwen, Empress of Ere, learned to call an old friend by his given name?” teased Jaeger. Cwen hid a smile at that. No one else would have dared talk to her that way.
“Amorous, I just do not wish for anymore rumors to spread about,”
“Cwen, why do you care so much? The court thrives on gossip. You know that. If not one thing, it will be another. There is no point in restricting our relationship over what a few Ladies who have nothing better to do say,”
“I know” Cwen replied, resting her head on his shoulder for the briefest of seconds.
“How are you handling the Jocelin situation?” he said, switching to another subject.
Sighing she shrugged and gave him a weak smile, as if to say “what can you expect?”. With one last look she drifted off to mingle with other dignitaries. However, there was no escape from the subject. Wherever she turned, someone was subtly trying to draw information out of her. Resigning herself to the inevitable, Cwen Empress deflected the probing inquiries as well as she could until the last of the guests left, leaving a tired Empress ready for rest.

While the inhabitants of the palace were merrymaking, Brack Sabir was poring over the encoded message of Jocelin Queen. He had not bothered to feed the text into the vidwalls. He knew that the Spymaster’s men had already tried computers means. That lead him to the conclusion that this was either a totally new form of code or, it was so old human memory had ceased to mark its existence. That was why the government couldn’t figure it out. They were too dependent on computers. The kept their databases updated to the millisecond and cracked all spy codes by it. Also, there had been no new encoding methods for a decade, at least. Now that a code had come along that their precious machines could not figure out, they did not know what to do with themselves.
So Brack would have to rescue them from their own ineptness. He was betting on this being an ancient type of encryption. Well, the only way to handle this would be to do a bit of background research. Creaking over to an unused section of the vidwall, Brack started the painstaking research into ancient methods of code breakings.
As the dawn sun rose, Brack was half dozing as he traced the links of the past. He had gone all the way back to the P.T. eras without finding a single clue. Who knew how much farther this hunt would take him? Finally slapping himself into consciousness, Brack dragged his tired body upstairs to his personal chambers. Fixing himself a bitter cup of Caf to wake up, Brack contemplated what to do next. Glancing at his watch he discovered it was 5:23. ‘Six, yes, I’ll keep going until six o’clock and then I'll call it a night,’ he thought to himself. Trudging downstairs, he resumed his work.
And this time he found what he was looking for. A primitive means of encoding called nomenclature. It was roughly based on a symbol alphabet with a few words that were separately encoded. To increase the difficulty of decryption, the writers often added nulls and other throw offs in the message. Luckily there was a way to solve this problem. The answer was a technique called frequency analysis.
Rubbing his hands together in anticipated delight, Brack felt his second wind coming. He spent the next day decoding the messages, without rest or food. Only when he was done with every last scrap of paper did he allow his mind and body to have the rest they demanded. As he fell into dead sleep, Brack made a mental to inform Vojak of the recent events.

Sure hope raced through Vojak as he scanned the message on his datascreen. He was on the verge of speeding to Brack’s residence at the very moment, but he refrained. He could not afford anyone to become suspicious. He must wait until the early morning, as he had previously, to respond to Brack’s request for his presence at his home.
He glided down the streets in the same solar cruiser; hood pulled over his face. Waiting while the bodyscan checked him at Brack’s door, Vojak fidgeted with impatience. He finally gave way to it and rushed up the stairs, bursting into Brack’s workroom without even knocking. Unlike the time before, Brack was not peering at some historical text. Instead he was calmly waiting for Vojak in a lounging chair. He smiled as the man rushed in, taking a sip of his fifth cup of Caf. The gesture accentuated the tired air about his being.
“Did you...?”questioned Vojak uncertainly.
“Yes,” so saying Brack tosses the Spymaster a packet containing the documents and their translations. Ripping it open, Vojak quickly begins devouring the words, eyes lighting up with animal’s triumph. Suddenly he darted a quick, searching look toward Brack. Looking back at the documents, he made a decision.
“Tell no one,” and with that he tucked the information into one of his pockets and leaves. After all, he had no time to waste in pleasantries. He had a case to prepare for the Empress.

The court was crowded with spectators for the trial. The nobility sat in the front rings while the less privileged had to be content with the farther rings of seats. The courtroom itself was sunk below the seats, which rose up into the ceiling. The judgers were already in their places, as was the prosecutor. Yet the plaintiff and defendant had not yet appeared.
Finally, almost late to her own trial, Jocelin, Queen of the Schotten appeared in the court. People noted the regality of her presence, her demure attire and pious appearance. With her ladies-in-waiting she calmly went to a throne set in the court and sat in it. Only to be removed a second later. The guards pointed her to another chair, also indicating where her ladies were to sit. It seemed the throne was not for her, but was set there to represent Cwen Empress, who would not be attending the trial. This ascertained, the trial began.
Spymaster Vojak was the prosecutor. He started out with citing certain indiscreet and rebellious comments of Jocelin Queen had made in the presence of some of Vojak‘s spies. To these, the accused responded with, “We were frustrated at the time. We were being imprisoned, constantly guarded, and we had no communication with anyone.”
“No communication with anyone, your Majesty?” commented the Spymaster. Her words had provided him with the perfect opportunity to delve into her secret messages. With a ruthlessness that he was infamous for, Vojak proceeded to detail the secret communication between Jocelin and her supporters. He left out no detail, making sure to put a scornful tint on the illicit activities. Jocelin Queen had not given any indication of surprise at the Spymaster’s knowledge, but kept a calm and humble mien. When Vojak finally asked for her defense on this matter she answered saying, “We had to resort to desperate measures, but there was no malice in our actions.”
“I beg to differ, your Majesty. After all, you encouraged the rebels in their heinous plot,” countered Vojak.
“On what do you base these false accusations?” demanded Jocelin, her face freezing in a queenly pose.
“Why, your messages, your Majesty.”
“Oh and what do our messages say?” said the Queen with strong sarcasm.
“Why, they say you agreed to Barbery’s plot and, among other things, requested that you be freed before or at the same time as the attack on her Majesty, Cwen Empress. It seems you were afraid that if your guardsmen found out about the assassination, they would kill you before you could escape.” Vojak said, reading from translations of the coded messages.
“Could we see these message we have supposedly written?” demanded Jocelin. Vojak handed them to her and she gave a short peal of laughter. “What are these? Nothing more than strange symbols on a portscreen.”
“Actually, they are an ancient form of code called nomenclature. We have had a cryptanalyst decode it for us. Brack Sabir, would you please come to the center?” A seat from the first ring detached itself and floated to the pit in the center. As soon as he had properly settled himself, Brack was subjected to a barrage of question from Vojak. Answer by answer he detailed how he had broken the royal code and deciphered the messages.
“While these have been proven to be treasonous paper, it has not yet been proven that we wrote them,” rebutted the sorely beset Queen.
“Actually we have eyewitnesses who have testified that they saw you write the message,” Vojak calmly responded. “Some of your ladies-in-waiting regretted being accessories to treason.” Vojak said this last bit with a feral smile, calling in four ladies who then testified before the judgers of Jocelin Queen’s guilt. Jocelin herself watched them closely, but betrayed no signs of anger or defeat.
Finally, after all the ladies had finished, Vojak rested his case by saying, “I have shown the honorable judgers the depth of Jocelin Queen’s guilt. After fleeing to our country and begging Cwen Empress to protect her, she repays her Majesty by betrayal. She conspired to kill Cwen Empress and claim her throne, as sufficiently proven by witnesses and her letters to the leader of the plot, Barbery. We cannot let her attempt this again.”
As her defense, Jocelin only said, “God hears us and knows our innocence.” The judgers left to decide the fate of this case. In an hour they were back. The leader of the three rose and cleared his throat. Jocelin Queen stood and looked expectantly at him. Vojak remained seated, but he was also watching the judger with rapt attention
“We, the Judger’s Tribunal, find Jocelin, Queen of the Schotten, guilty of treason against Cwen, Empress of Ere. We condemn her to execution by cryoburial.” The Queen closed her eyes briefly at that, but otherwise was composed while guards led her away, her ladies-in-waiting trailing behind. The Spymaster left his papers for his assistants to gather. Right now he had to inform her Majesty about the tribunal’s ruling.


      

 

 

Copyright © 2003 E Thomas
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