anchises: (Default)
anchises ([personal profile] anchises) wrote2008-08-24 01:27 pm

VZPBZ VATUB ZRABJ (SG-1, Broken Wings-verse)

VZPBZ VATUB ZRABJ, by Anchises. Another tag for [personal profile] synecdochic's A Howling In The Factory Yard, with unsurprising spoilers, profanity, and really simple cipher decoding. Because Anchises is, at heart, a giant fucking geek.



They start communicating via the United States Fucking Postal Service, neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of fucking night, not that it ever fucking snows in Oregon, nor so much with the heat either. It's got the gloom down to a fucking T, though. Gloom of fucking day.



JMPWF ZPVBO EJNJT TZPVB OEJTX
FBSUP HPEJX JMMCF UIFSF BTTPP
OBTJQ VUNZT FMGCB DLUPH FUIFS


the first one reads, on a piece of eight-and-a-half-by-eleven stuffed into a re-used brown envelope that's Scotch-taped down, and Cam laughs his head off because he can decode it without even trying. With one hand feeding Ash, he scribbles his response on the back of a piece of paper towel, encoding it as he goes. There's a bit of math involved in making sure it's groups of five letters, and he gets a little verbose once he's into it, but he laughs as he stuffs it back in the envelope, tapes it up, sticks a blank label on the front, scribbles the address that he's googled for the monastery, and mails it back.



MPWFZ PVUPP JLOPX ZPVXJ MMBOE
JXJMM CFSJH IUIFS FXBJU JOHGP
SZPVT PXJMM UIFMJ UUMFH VZBOE
EPOUG PSBTF DPOEU IJOLU IBUJX
POUCF QJDLJ OHZPV VQGSP NUIFB
JSQPS UCFDB VTFZP VTUSP OHXJM
MFOET USPOH CFTMF FQJOH POUIF
DPVDI JGZPV KVTUU VSOVQ BUUIF
IPVTF


it reads, and JD reads it in Keller-roshi's office, over an omnipresent cup of tea. He's vaguely apologetic, although not really, and Keller-roshi knows both of those things, and knows that this is important to JD's healing. JD looks up after a minute; Keller-roshi sees his eyes with a light in them that hasn't been there since he left the monastery last time; knows that this is what will truly get JD back into a place of peace.



UWRGT UJWVV NGVQQ IQQFH QTWUP
QYOKV EJGNN DGUKF GUVJG HNKIJ
VUCNY CAUIG VKPCV JCNHC HVGTC
UUYJK EJKUU VWRKF DGECW UGQHV
JGNKV VNGIW ACPFK VUPGX GTQPV
KOGOC MGUOQ TGUGP UGHQT OGVQF
TKXGH TQOFH YJQOG DGECW UGAQW
CTGPQ VTGRG CVPQV OKVEJ GNNFT
KXKPI VJCVF KUVCP EGCVP KIJVQ
PVJCV FCOPG FKPVG TUVCV GKNQX
GAQWK OFQKP IDGVV GTKNN UGGAQ
WUQQP


Cam laughs at the cipher, because really, JD, Da-God-damned-Vinci-code, hell no, and reaches for his laptop. His Polish is dreadful, just kurwa mac dreadful, barely past Dzien dobry and Jak sie masz and he can't even really do the alphabet, but that's okay, because he's just going to Babelfish it anyway. What the hell did he do before the Internet? He's sure life was less funny then.

He churns it through the translator, although he's pretty sure that some of the letters don't correspond well to the cipher he's using, and he's not familiar enough with Polish to know where the L-squiggle and the A-squiggle come when you're rotating characters, and he keeps the stupid damn cipher chain going, because it's easy and it makes him laugh.

The envelope is starting to look the worse for wear, though, so he replaces it with the one the Austin Energy bill came in, tapes it up, sticks blank labels over the bits he needs to, and up goes the flag on the mailbox. He keeps the brown one safe in his desk drawer, next to one of JD's t-shirts.



EJSUC HNOLQ DWRMH VWHPX VCNDG
CDMDQ LHNUH WBQLF DOHMD URELC
WBPZK DOHMH VWFHO MHMCD ZVCHO
NDFHQ HWDNS RPDJD MDPQL HERJE
HGHZL GCLHF ZDVPL QXWDS UCHNO
LQDPG REUCH PRCHQ DZHWM HCHOL
MDPXV LSRVX ZDFVL HSRUW RZDCL
HPLDZ BELHU DFZDV NRFKD MDZDV


JD laughs, once, his shaved head rolling back and looking at the ceiling of Keller-roshi's office. Keller-roshi smiles faintly, knowing that JD can't see him, and knowing that this is one of the really good roadhouses along the road to recovery. Keller-roshi has seen it before, and will see it again.

JD chuckles at the last group of five letters, and wishes that it had ended with a U. Circles it, puts a big ! next to it and a :S next to that. Back it goes.



DTZWU TQNXM NXFGX TQZYJ QDFYW
THNTZ XMFAJ DTZHT SXNIJ WJIFH
FWJJW NSXYF YJFSI NKNYB NQQRF
PJDTZ KJJQG JYYJW NBNQQ HFQQD
TZFSI QJYDT ZUNHP RJZUK WTRYM
JFNWU TWYIT JXYMN XRFPJ RJYMJ
UZXXD BMNUU JITSJ


Cam unfolds the piece of rice paper and smiles. He wonders, idly, if JD will be back for Labor Day, and whether a weekend down at the beach at Galveston or somewhere would be nice. He turns his attention back to Ash, who is making little burping noises on his shoulder, and bounces him on the table.

"JD's coming home, JD's coming home." He makes a little song out of it until he catches himself self-consciously, then grins. Ash grins gummily back at him.

Theo's at the door, lets herself in, and Cam grabs for the delivery menu he's been using as his codesheet, folding it up and sticking it wetly in the pocket of his sweats. "I made way too much minted halloumi," she calls as she makes her way over to him, and deposits a tupperware container on the table. Ash gurgles happily to see her.



WPLWV WBMDM VABIZ BEQBP UMRLV
QMTAW VLIUU QBXTM IAMMF KCAMB
PMAXQ BCXWV BPMKW LMAPM MBQLQ
LVBKI BKPPQ UQVBQ UMQRC ABKIV
VWBEI QBNWZ GWCBW JMPWU MPMZM
EQBPU MEQBP CAQTW DMGWC


Keller-roshi knows that it's not going to be long now. JD only smiles when he gets the notes these days.

This time, though, Keller-roshi's stomach rumbles at the sight of a Chinese restaurant menu, because he remembers what potstickers used to taste like, and he suddenly has a hankering for some, and this afternoon is going to involve some time in the kitchen with fake pork and an awful lot of chives.

JD is folding his response, written alone on a piece of the monastery's letterhead. He smiles and turns to Keller-roshi. "Can I borrow your phone? I think it's time to book a flight."



VZPBZ VATUB ZRABJ

it reads, simply, starkly. It's a contrast to the messae "Vzpbz vatub zrabj!" Cam says excitedly to Ash, then chuckles at the sound of the nonsense. "Vzpbz vatub zrabj!" Cam pauses and rotates it in his head. "Wqfpbz vatub zrabj, Ash, Wqfpbz vatub zrabj!"

When they get in from the airport two days later, a handmade wooden frame is sitting on the countertop, with a cross-stitch sampler in it. The pieces of knotted, befouled and discarded cross-stitch silks, soaked in Cameron's blood from tiny needle-pricks (his craft art is so knitting) are nowhere to be seen.

1-1-2-3-5-8-13 -- UBZR FJRRG UBZR -- VZPBZ VATUB ZRABJ -- VYBIR LBHQB AGRIR -- ESHPX VATYR NIRZR -- UBZR FJJRG UBZR -- 1-1-2-3-5-8-13


JD sees it, blinks, and bursts into laughter. Cam's arms wrap around him from behind.

It is good to have him back.

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