Kathy Reichs - Code

The timer was counting down to midnight. For the first time, I began to doubt we’d actually solve the puzzle.

What would happen if we failed? Who would pay the price?

“Miss Brennan?”

My eyes shot to the front. Mr. Terenzoni was stroking his thin, black beard, irritation etched on his face. “We are waiting.”

“Twelve?” Stock answer. I had no idea what the question was.

“No, Miss Brennan. The answer is not twelve. The answer is Green’s theorem.”

Snickers floated around me. Mr. Terenzoni wagged his head slowly.

Red-faced, I pushed aside my concerns and focused on not sounding like an idiot twice.

I caught my next target just before lunch.

“Ben?” Pulling him aside. “I need to ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“My debutante ball is next Friday night.”

No reaction. Ben sometimes made conversation difficult.

“I’m supposed to invite escorts. Marshals for the ceremony, and stags, too.”

Still nothing.

“Would you like to be one?” I said. “A marshal, I mean. Escort me.”

For a moment, Ben just stared.

“Don’t strain yourself,” I snapped. “You’ll need a tux, and you’ll have to behave around dozens of Bolton trust-funders. Can you handle that?”

Not the approach I’d planned, but his apathy got under my skin.

Ben remained quiet for another long moment. Then, “Sure.”

“Okay, good.” I nodded once, as if agreeing to a treaty. “That’s settled then.”

We began walking toward the cafeteria.

“Who else is going?”

“Shelton and Hi will be my stags. And Jason. He’s co-marshal with you.”

Ben stopped. “Jason?”

“Kit’s girlfriend likes his family,” I said swiftly. “She’s the one making me debut. Plus, Jason knows the ropes, and he’d already asked if he could escort me, so—”

“Hold on.” Ben’s eyes were dark. “Jason asked if he could go? When?”

“At a cotillion thing this summer.” What did that matter? “I never responded, but Whitney’s pushing me hard, so I had to choose.”

I threw my hands up, exasperated. “I don’t even wanna go to this stupid thing!”

Ben’s lips parted, but then he seemed to reconsider. Without a word, he strode off in the opposite direction.

“Ben, wait!”

He halted, but didn’t turn.

“Will you be my marshal or not?”

“Yes.”

Then I was alone outside the cafeteria doors.

“Juuuust great.”

“I need a tux?” Shelton’s eyes widened behind their thick lenses. “What about dancing? I don’t have to dance if I don’t want to, right?”

We were at our usual table, secluded in the far corner by the emergency exit. The area closest to us was empty, which is just how we liked it. Hi and Shelton munched sandwiches while I ate a bowl of she-crab soup. Whitney had started preparing my lunches, an insult I couldn’t bring myself to reject.

Curse her effective bribes! And me for taking them.

Ben was nowhere to be seen.

“Of course not,” I said. “You two don’t have any official functions. Basically, you just show up and hang out. And I’d really appreciate if you did.”

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!” Hi wiped his mouth with a napkin before continuing. “Free food, free party. What’s not to like? I can break out the robot.” He gave a quick demonstration while sitting at the table.

“Very nice,” I said. “I wasn’t aware break dancing was back in style.”

“Now you are.” Hi tore open a bag of Bugles. “I also do a killer mime.”

“So Ben and Jason are coming, too?” The wide eyes looked naked as Shelton removed and wiped his glasses. “That could get … messy.”

“Jason seems cool, but Ben …” I trailed off. What more to say?

“We’ll smooth him out,” Hi said. “Plus, Ben would never embarrass you on the biggest, most special night of your life. Your one shot to marry well.”

“You’re a riot.” I flung a carrot stick, but Hi dodged.

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!”