Chapter 7: Rigged Blue Marble

(?)

"Here we are again," Mabel complained. "How'd we get back? What's the deal? Did you push a button?"

"I didn't push anything," Dipper said. "We just walked out of the hospital and into this room. Again."

It was the bare cubicle, nowhere, nowhen. Their hospital disguises had vanished, and once again they wore the featureless jumpsuits. "I'm hungry," Mabel complained.

"You had a doughnut," Dipper pointed out. "That's more than I had."

"Yeah, but my metabolism runs higher than yours. Hey, room, can we have some room-service food?"

The calm voice—a lot like that computer in the movie 2001—said, "No, but I can alter the past so you will have already eaten. There. Is that better?"

Mabel burped and made a face. "What did I have? Tastes like pine needles."

"You both had an adequate serving of Soylent Purple. I anticipate your question, and the answer is no, it is not made of people or pigs. It is synthesized from natural plant substances and contains the minimum daily requirements for protein, fats, minerals, vitamins—"

"Everything but flavor, huh?" Mabel started to shift from foot to anxious foot. "Uh, how about a little girl's room? On the double!"

"I am incapable of materializing such things, but I will alter the past so neither of you requires such a facility. There."

"You take all the fun out of it," Mabel grumbled, though she stopped doing the potty two-step.

"OK, now that's taken care of," Dipper said, sitting down in a corner. "What is this?" he held up the small blue marble they had taken from Stan.

"That is a sphere of undetermined composition, weighing 60.1 grams and measuring 35 millimeters in diameter. It is chemically inert and is not radioactive."

"Oh. So it's a sphere. Thanks so much," Dipper said.

"Your sarcasm is noted."

"He's good," Mabel said.

"It's a wall, Mabel! It doesn't have sex," Dipper snapped.

Mabel chortled. "Oh, so it's just like you, huh? Zing!"

"It looks like a marble," Dipper mused, pointedly ignoring his sister's remark. He bounced it on his palm. "It doesn't feel like one, though. Don't think it's glass. Or plastic, either. Is it transparent?" He held it up to his eye.

And immediately saw everything shaded a deep blue. Except for the symbols, which glowed white. "Ah-hah!"

"What ah-ha?" Mabel asked.

"It's . . . like a viewer. Looking through it I can see a cipher projected on the wall. Get my notebook out of my pocket. No, other pocket. And the pen. OK, I'll call out the numbers and you write them down. Be sure to put dashes on both sides of each number. Oh, and when I get to a word break, I'll say 'slash,' and you put in a slash mark. Ready?"

Mabel clicked the pen. "Oh, I'm so ready!"

"Here we go."

And deliberately and clearly he read,

-18-21-/-2-12-6-/-19-26-5-22-/-13-12-7-/-9-22-24-22-18-5-22-23-/-14-2-/-15-22-7-7-22-9-/-18-/-26-14-/-8-7-26-2-18-13-20-/-18-13-/-16-26-13-8-26-8-/-1883-

-18-21-/-7-19-22-/-7-18-14-22-/-11-26-9-26-23-12-3/-26-5-12-18-23-26-13-24-22-/-22-13-21-12-9-24-22-14-22-13-7-/-8-10-6-26-23-/-18-8-/-26-21-7-22-9-/-14-22-/-8-7-12-11-/-19-22-9-22-/-26-13-23-/-20-12-/-25-26-24-16-

-18-21-/-7-19-22-/-24-12-26-8-7-/-18-8-/-24-15-22-26-9-/-20-12-/-21-12-9-4-26-9-23-

-2-12-6-/-19-26-5-22-/-11-26-8-8-22-23-/-7-19-22-/-15-18-21-22-/-22-5-22-13-7-/-19-12-9-18-1-12-13-

-21-9-12-14-/-19-22-9-22-/-12-13-/-7-26-16-22-/-13-12-7-19-18-13-20-/-25-6-7-/-14-22-14-12-9-18-22-8-/-26-13-23-/-23-12-/-13-12-7-/-24-19-26-13-20-22-/-7-19-22-/-14-26-17-12-9-/-22-5-22-13-7-8-/-12-21-/-19-18-8-7-12-9-2-

-21-26-18-15-18-13-20-/-7-12-/-23-12-/-7-19-18-8-/-14-26-2-/-24-26-6-8-22-/-22-9-26-8-6-9-22-/-21-9-12-14-/-7-18-14-22-

-2-12-6-9-/-13-22-3-7-/-20-12-26-15-/-18-8-/-11-26-15-12-/-26-15-7-12-/-24-26-15-18-21-12-9-13-18-26-/-26-6-20-6-8-7-/-7-4-22-15-7-21-7-19-/-1981-

-21-18-13-23-/-21-18-23-23-15-22-21-12-9-23-/-14-24-20-6-24-16-22-7-/-26-13-23-/-26-8-16-/-19-18-14-/-7-12-/-24-26-15-24-6-15-26-7-22-/-11-18-/-7-12-/-12-13-22-/-7-19-12-6-8-26-13-23-/-23-22-24-18-14-26-15-/-11-15-26-24-22-8-

-7-19-22-13-/-8-7-26-13-23-/-25-26-24-16-

-25-15-22-13-23-18-13-

When he finished, Mabel moved the pen from her left hand to her right and shook the one she had written with. "Carpal tunnel! That was like War and Peace, the numbers edition."

"You could have shifted hands," Dipper murmured, taking the pad from her. "We're both ambidextrous."

"Pretty sure I'm not," Mabel said. "Pacifica doesn't turn me on, the way Mermando does you—"

"Means using both hands, Mabel!" Dipper growled.

"Ha! Gotcha, Broseph! OK, OK, time to serious up." Mabel peered down at the pad he was studying and handed the pen back to Dipper, who started to click it. "So now we have to guess the key word again, huh?"

Dipper tapped his finger on the last word. "I . . . don't think so. I think this one is simpler. No key word, just a little trick. Let me do some counting and if what I think he did is true, we should be on our way in about ten minutes."

"OK," Mabel said, sitting cross-legged on the floor and leaning against the featureless wall. "You do that. I'll amuse myself with a few soylent belches."