Pirate attacks
Ruby fell asleep without difficulty and slept soundly until an hour before dawn when her dream took a puzzling turn.
She found herself in her music class. Clancy was tapping out a message with a drumstick. Ruby was frustrated: she knew Morse code well, but she couldn’t decipher this, it just made no sense. What are you trying to tell me Clance? He was just looking at her like she was super dumb and continued to tap. Was it nonsense or was she not as smart as she thought?
She woke up, but the dream continued… or at least the tapping did. It was coming from the bathroom. Ruby fumbled for her glasses, got up and switched on the light. It was the cold tap, not quite turned off, and a steady drip was drumming onto a plastic cup that was sitting upside down in the sink. Ruby switched on the radio, which was still tuned to Chime Melody, and a reassuring old tune wafted out of the set, the kind of golden oldie that Mrs Digby adored.
As Ruby listened, she began to think about the recent interruptions, the strange unmusic-like music playing on the radio, music more suited to the classical radio channel Cerebral Sounds. The kind of music that had no business being played on Chime. Suddenly Ruby froze and she felt those tiny hairs on the back of her neck prick up. She could see it now, this thing that had sounded like a jumble of notes, a mess of sounds; she had heard it with her own ears, but failed to understand.
She ran to the wall of books that covered one side of her room and pulled at the quarterly code magazines that dated back several years. She remembered reading an article about something, something that might help her chase down the thought she couldn’t catch. She spread them out across the floor until she caught sight of the one she wanted. In this old edition was an article on musicians who had encrypted music and so passed secrets across the airwaves without anyone ever suspecting that these tunes were not just tunes. One of the most famous was a composer called Arvo Pärt, but there were many others: the highly successful composer and double agent Sarå H Stein, and Roberto Bowerbeck and Tristan Delaware to name a handful. At the back of the magazine was a 7-inch plastic record: low quality but it should still play.
Ruby put the record on the turntable and the needle automatically lowered itself onto the disc. The piece was by I Zac-Gardner: Preamble in Three Equally Divided Halves.
It sounded very much like the kind of thing Chime had been playing – music without melody.
Ruby pulled on her sweatshirt and ran down the stairs right to the bottom of the house. She moved lightly and almost soundlessly and only Bug heard a footstep.
She tapped lightly on Hitch’s door – she could hear him put something down on the table, a cup or a glass.
‘Ruby?’ he said quietly. ‘That you?’
She opened the door; he was still dressed from the night before, or maybe he was freshly dressed for the coming day. He looked only mildly surprised to see her.
‘Hey kid,’ he said. ‘What got you up before dawn?’
Ruby sat down in one of the two easy chairs that furnished the compact yet stylish apartment.
‘I figured something out,’ she said. ‘At least I think I figured something out, I just got to prove it is all.’
‘I’m all ears kid.’ He sat down in the opposite chair.
‘This Chime Melody thing I’ve been working on for Froghorn – I suddenly get it. It’s not interference, it’s not someone disrupting the airwaves – it’s more than that.’
‘More how?’ asked Hitch.
‘Well, old Froghorn dumped me with the job of studying each tape, each piece of music, trying to listen for a voice masked by the music, but that’s not what’s going on here.’
‘It isn’t?’ said Hitch.
‘No,’ said Ruby. ‘The music isn’t covering up the communication, the music IS the communication. It’s a code.’
‘You know this?’ said Hitch.
Ruby shook her head.
‘But you’re pretty sure?’
‘Eighty per cent. I figure each note is a letter. Could be more complicated though. You know, like when a note lasts for two beats, you skip a letter, or it changes into a number, or something.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Hitch. ‘But if you say so, I believe you.’
‘So I gotta listen to the tapes so I can figure out how it works.’
‘That all? You can go in and listen to them any day you like.’
‘I mean I want to bring them home; it would give me more time.’
He paused, considering the request; it wasn’t strictly protocol, but it was practical. He took a deep breath. ‘I can get them.’
‘What about Froghorn? Is he gonna make trouble?’
‘No, leave Froghorn to me. I can handle anything he cares to throw.’
‘And maybe…’ said Ruby, ‘don’t let’s say anything until I’ve got proof. I’d hate to give him the pleasure of knowing I’d got it wrong.’
‘I’ll keep it zipped kid. You can count on it.’
They went up to the kitchen and sat there for a while drinking tea and talking things over until they were interrupted.
‘Well, knock me down with a feather!’ Mrs Digby said. ‘This child is up before the sun – I must be dreaming.’
An unblemished record
RED CALLED ROUND JUST AS RUBY was about to leave the house on Thursday morning. ‘I thought I’d come by and see how you were doing – I tried calling, but you didn’t pick up.’
‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ said Ruby. ‘It all got kinda busy, you know.’
Red nodded. ‘You must be so relieved. I mean how dreadful thinking you’d never see your mom and your dad again, neither one of them.’
Red’s own dad had gone missing one day, just up and left, and she had never laid eyes on him since, so she knew what she was talking about.
‘It was pretty bad,’ said Ruby. ‘Kinda the worst day of my life, you know?’
Red nodded again. ‘So you wanna grab some breakfast at the Donut?’
‘Sure, why not,’ said Ruby. ‘Might as well celebrate.’
* * *
It was nice to join her friends for breakfast just like always.
‘So,’ said Clancy, ‘my record is
