Step on the Sun

by Doug Plamping

  “Paul, tell me more about the priest and the staff.” Master Rees waited patiently.

  “The staff is a badge of office for the priest. Unfortunately, he died before he could complete his instructions to us, but we do know where to return the staff.”

  “Please describe the staff.”

  “The staff looks heavy but it isn’t. It is about three quarters of an inch wide at the top to maybe an inch and a half at the bottom. It is dark brown, polished without being shiny, and about five feet long. Carvings cover the staff from top to bottom except for a band of symbols around the center of the staff. It feels solid, and there is a definite difference in weight from the narrow end to the thick end. The carvings allow you to grip the staff without slipping.”

  “Thank you, Paul. Is there any weakness in the staff?”

  “I don’t know if it’s a weakness, but there’s a mechanism in the wide end of the staff that allows the priest to place eight metal beads within the end of the staff.”

  Master Rees looked thoughtful, and then bowed from his waist, before saying, “This ties to something else. Please wait while I check my library. Please enjoy the garden while I am away.”

  Paul took the opportunity to stretch his legs; he wasn’t used to sitting cross-legged. He was impressed by Master Rees, something that did not usually happen this quickly, mostly due to his suspicious nature. The garden was beautiful, no flowers, but bushes of different colors and leaf shapes. Paul saw Master Rees coming from the house, and he went back to the mat and sat down.

  Master Rees joined him and passed Paul a photocopy of a page from a book. It was a drawing of a staff with parts of the carvings shown in detail. “Paul, this is a secret that I ask that you not share with anyone else, except your two friends. I trust you to honor this request. Does any part of the drawing look similar to your friend’s staff?”

  Paul was shocked, but kept that from his face. The drawing was almost exactly the same as Simon’s staff. What should he answer? He studied the drawing for a few seconds before he decided that admitting the two staffs were the same would not be telling too much. “Master Rees, the length, shape, and carvings are like those on the priest’s staff. The carvings around the center of the staff are slightly different, but they have this same shield-like shape around each one. I will honor your request for secrecy, but where did this come from?”

  Master Rees sat quietly considering Paul’s question. He reached out and took back the photocopy, folding it, and putting it up his sleeve. “Paul, that is a secret I can’t reveal to you now. You have secrets too, and secrets are sometimes necessary. Later there may be an opportunity for us to exchange mutual secrets.” Master Rees gave him an ironic smile.

  Paul wasn't sure about this, but Master Rees had trusted him, and he felt he could trust Master Rees in return. No one on Earth should know about a staff, but here Master Rees had a drawing of one. He'd have to tell Amy and Frank about this.

  Master Rees continued, “I agree to teach you how to fight with a jo. Your desire to have an option that reduces injury to your opponent is honorable, but you recognize that the option is not always possible.”

  “We do, and thank you Master Rees.” Paul was pleased, he had enjoyed learning some staff fighting techniques from Firstscout, but he was sure that the techniques of the school would be superior.

  “I will send a message to your Institute. They will agree; they have asked many times that I teach their students. You’ll need opponents for practice, so I will request two other students to accompany you. This will also allow me to teach you techniques for fighting in threes.” He paused looking at Paul. “In Chinese shamanism, the staff represents what some call the power of the universe. In Greek and Roman mythology the god of healing holds a staff entwined by a serpent.” Master Rees smiled, “As you can tell, the jo and fighting with the jo are my passion. The Shinto Muso-ryu, the name of our school and technique within the Japanese martial arts, has its own forms and fundamentals, and is based on teaching the use of the jo, the short staff, against a sword-wielding attacker.”

  Master Rees was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “The jo's greater length is its main advantage against the sword, but the standard length of 128 cm is shorter than the staff you are returning, so we may have to adjust the training. The training of Shinto Muso-ryu is done through kata, two-partner forms, but we will adjust that too. You’ll have no protective padding; you and your fellow students must therefore be accurate and focused. We have limited time before you graduate so we will focus on the ‘kihon no uchi tsuki waza’, that’s the twelve basic techniques, which can be performed alone or with a partner using a sword. I have a class now so we will discuss this more at your first lesson.”

  Master Rees stood up, and Paul stood up, stepping off the mat. “Thank you Paul. The Institute will advise you of your schedule.” Paul watched Master Rees enter the house. Was that too easy? Paul felt that he could trust Master Rees, but he would still be careful.

  * * *

  Paul was requested, as if that wasn’t an order, to come at his convenience to the office of Commander of the School of Application, a traditional title that didn’t translate easily into English, to talk to the soldier who ran the Institute, the famous General Cadorna of the Italian Army, a formidable man. Paul hoped that this interview wasn’t because he was in trouble. Paul marched in, came to attention before the desk, and saluted. “Sub-lieutenant Fortezza, Sir”

  “At ease Sub-lieutenant.”

  Paul waited, perfectly still. This office was in the oldest of the Institute’s buildings and Paul noted the intricate carvings and panels on the walls all around the room. Paul saw that the Commander seemed relaxed.

  “Sub-lieutenant Fortezza, Master Rees sent me this parchment.” The Commander held up a folded sheet of rice paper covered with what Paul guessed were Japanese characters. “Once we had it translated, I learned that he has agreed to teach you and two other Institute students how to fight with a jo. The Institute is also to have, manufactured from a certain rare wood, six staffs of an unusual size and shape for your lessons, and those six staffs are to be the fee for the teaching offered. This was expected?” The Commander paused to look at him, a puzzled expression on his face.

  Paul didn’t answer, feeling that it was a rhetorical question.

  The Commandant continued, “Sub-lieutenant Fortezza, this Institute has approached Master Rees many times, asking him to teach our students. I even made a request personally. Master Rees has always politely declined. I understand from this that you went to his school to make a personal request. I would appreciate it if you would tell me what that request was.”

  Paul knew he could refuse, but that would create trouble. He needed to say just enough to satisfy the Commander. “Yes Sir. I approached Master Rees for some personal lessons, outside of my school schedule, on fighting with a staff. Sir, I told Master Rees that I have two friends that I will be traveling with after graduation. One of them, Amy, has been given a staff by a priest and has been asked to deliver the staff back to his temple school. I told Master Rees that all three of us will carry staffs on this journey, and although we will carry sidearms, we wish to have the option to defend ourselves without the violence of sidearms. Master Rees told me that that was an honorable request, and said he would contact the Institute.”

  There was silence. Had he stepped out of line? Then the Commander leaned back in his chair and laughed. Paul had a hard time keeping a straight face. “Well, Sub-lieutenant, that is one request I never thought to make! An honorable request!”

  The Commander leaned forward on the desk. “Sub-lieutenant Fortezza, you haven’t told me everything. You have the right to some privacy. I won’t ask where this journey will take you as you clearly don’t want to say.” The Commander opened a file. “This is a great opportunity for the Institute. We'd hoped to attract instructors of the caliber of Master Rees. We can build on this. Your lessons with Master Rees will replace all other p
hysical training and a new schedule is being prepared for you. I suggest you select two cadets, the same gender and size as your friends. This will make it easier for you to train your friends later. As a favor to the Institute, please choose first year students. The first year students can complete their training with Master Rees over the next two years, and I hope we can build a relationship with him during that time. You only have a few months, just enough for the basics before you graduate.”

  The Commander looked intently at him. “Is there anything the Institute can help you with?”

  “Actually, Sir, there is,” Paul responded hesitantly. The Commander nodded for him to go ahead. “Part of our travels will take us through Mexico. Only the Mexican military and police are allowed to carry firearms, but I heard that our Italian officers have carried firearms in Mexico. Would it be possible to get a permit for me to carry firearms?”

  The Commander laughed. “You could have asked for something more difficult you know. When you graduate you’ll automatically be an officer and a reservist, and based on that status, I can get the permit you’re looking for. I’ll have it in a few days.” The Commander stood up behind the desk and reached out to shake Paul’s hand. “Sub-lieutenant Fortezza, you’re one of our top students and you’ve done well for the Institute. We won’t forget this.”

  * * *

  Frank admired Jan’s study group contributions. The latest session was over, and Jan asked Frank to join her at the coffee shop. Jan was tall, an inch taller than he was. Frank liked girls who were taller than him, and when they put on heels, party time! Jan was tall and slender enough to be a model but even though she was attractive, she didn’t have that model quality. Frank enjoyed her company. He’d met her in a course he was taking for his masters, but she was on the degree track.

  Frank found he was spending most of the time answering her questions, but her answers to his questions were vague. Some people don’t like to talk about themselves, but Frank was uneasy; there was some problem here. Likely it’s none of my business, he thought, bringing fresh coffees to the table. Frank noticed that Jan had moved his chair so they would now sit shoulder to shoulder. Nice touch!

  “Thanks Frank. There’s something else to ask. I was told that I should encrypt all the files on my laptop, especially my private stuff. You’re a computer wiz; should I do that?”

  Frank had protected all his computers with encryption, even before the videos and photos from other planets. Frank smiled, thinking that it’s always weird to think about other planets! Seeing that Jan was still waiting for an answer, he suggested, “Yeah, you should. One in ten laptops are stolen; they can read all your files, all your personal stuff, especially credit card numbers.”

  “I use a password!”

  “That’s for honest people! They take out your hard drive and attach it to another computer, then they can read everything. Get a laptop with a fingerprint reader, or a reader that plugs in, and set it to encrypt the hard drive. That’s better.”

  “Is that what you use?”

  Frank was worried about this line of questioning. Half the power of security was in people not knowing what you did. Frank was using three levels of security, only two of which were normal. Frank always hauled around an old USB stick. It was round and bulky, and he plugged it in each time he used the laptop, and that got him a ribbing from the other techies for being out-of-date. What they didn’t know was that hidden it in the USB stick was another layer of encryption. The stick still worked, so it was a good disguise. Someone trying to read his files was not likely to plug in the USB stick, and that would stop them cold. Frank answered cautiously, “I use both the fingerprint reader and a password to encrypt the hard drive. The fingerprint reader should work for you; it protects the password file so a hacker can’t change it.”

  “Wow, you’re serious! What do you have in that laptop?” Jan must have seen his expression as she quickly added, “Sorry, none of my business!”

  “That’s OK,” Frank lied. “I’ve been asked before.”

  Jan put her hand on his arm and smiled appealingly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t pry. My friends tell me I ask so many questions that I should have gone into journalism.”

  Who says ‘pry’ thought Frank? Jan had an adult way of talking sometimes, and Frank realized that she also dressed more maturely than her peers. She wore the same sort of clothes as other students but better quality, better coordination. Her make-up was subtle, showing more sophistication than other students. Frank felt suspicion cool his interest in her, having now put the pieces together. Jan was not who she said she was. Did it matter? Yes, Frank thought.

  Frank smiled, “No worries.”

  Jan’s shoulder rubbed his arm, but it didn’t have the impact it might have had five minutes ago. “OK, just one more geeky question, I promise. I’ve read that you should mix letters and numbers in your password, but I don’t see how you remember it? I’m always forgetting my passwords to websites.”

  Frank wondered why she was fishing for his password, but even if she had the password it wouldn’t do her any good. “Use a phrase or saying, one you won’t forget, and then instead of typing a space, type a number or a character, it doesn’t matter which. It’s easy to remember and very secure.”

  “Good idea. Thanks, that helps.” Jan’s leg pressed against Frank’s. “Listen, we have some time, so why don’t I come up to your room for a while. My roommate is studying so we can’t go there. I just need to freshen up, so I’ll go first, just give me ten minutes. How about it?”

  A few minutes before Frank would have said yes. Now there was no chance that he would allow her to be in his room alone with his computers, even for ten minutes. “Sorry Jan. I’ve a study group for another course. Thanks for the invite.”

  “Your loss Frank.” Jan’s hand squeezed his thigh briefly. “The invitation’s open any time. I like you, and you just have to ask. See you at the Valentine's Day party!”

  Jan left the coffee shop and Frank admired her body until she was out of sight.

  * * *

  Frank would have been interested in the cellphone conversation now going on.

  “Ethica Partners Private Investigations, how can I help you?”

  “Hi Candice, this is Legs.” Each of the firms’ investigators used a codename so that irate clients couldn’t easily track them down. “Can you put me through to Tiger?”

  “Hi Legs. He’s not on his phone right now. I’ll put you through. Hold on.”

  Jan waited while the extension rang.

  “Hi. Tiger here.”

  “Tiger, it’s Legs. I’m not making much progress here. I’ve tried what we discussed.”

  “OK Legs. It was a long shot anyways. Did you get anything on the laptop?”

  Jan made sure that no one was close enough to overhear her. “Frank told me that he likes to use a phrase or saying that he likes, and then instead of typing a space, he types a number or a character. Does that help?”

  “Yeah it does. It confirms that the password from our electronic surveillance is good. The problem is that it didn’t work. He’s got some other type of protection as well. Did he tell you more?”

  Jan smiled; Frank hadn’t told her everything, smart guy! “Nothing more, Andy. Don’t forget that Frank, at 21, has two degrees, and is finishing a masters; he’s as smart as they come. The university is giving him a grant to do his doctorate.”

  “You sound impressed?” Tiger sounded concerned. “Getting involved?”

  “Yeah! Don’t worry. I can keep the job separate; I always have. Frank is both intelligent and smart, I like him. He doesn’t appear to be the bad guy here. I’d worry more about our client, as they haven’t told us much.”

  “Maybe not. Saying he copied financial transaction files sounds a little thin, but they’re our client for now. Finish the semester and stay friends with Frank. We’ll have the geeks continue to work on the copy of his hard drive; maybe they’ll break the encryption.”

  * *
*

  Amy was late for the study group. She found that she was appreciating Dave’s intelligence and broad view of the planet. Dave Higgins had joined their American Government course study group late, but had made some interesting suggestions on the government agency model they'd been reviewing. Dave wanted to be more than friendly to Amy, but she wasn't interested. She wasn’t sure why, but as a friend he was close enough. Maybe he was pushing too hard? As he had a room at the other end of her dorm corridor, they saw each other every day anyway.

  They were using one of the common rooms in Amy’s dorm building as most Poli-Sci students were in this dorm, and Amy saw that everyone was there before her. “Hi Amy,” shouted Dave. He’d saved a chair next to him. “So where’s the limp?”

  Amy was confused; what limp? Then she remembered. She’d played tennis last night, and scraped her knee. She’d limped back to the dorm, and Dave had offered assistance. “It was just a scrape, and I heal fast.” To clue everyone else in, Amy added, “Scraped the skin on my knee playing tennis.”

  Amy’s mind wandered back to yesterday. It was a bad scrape and she’d washed the gravel out of it when she got back to the dorm. She wasn’t sore this morning, and it didn’t hurt now. In fact she’d forgotten all about it. Casually lifting her skirt above her knee Amy checked where the scrape should be. There was no sore and no scar. Weird! What had Simon said about the staff and healing? She couldn’t remember, but she worried about what the staff might be doing, this wasn’t normal. Distracted, Amy didn’t contribute much to the discussion.

  * * *

  From: Frank Wiseman

  Sent: Friday, 6:03pm

  To: Amy, Paul

  Subject: Keep laptop secure

  Some people here persistent in getting at my laptop. Suggest we all be careful with travel information. Tell you more when we video.