You Know Me, Al

I woke up thinking of sealed authenticators.

Those, in case you've temporarily forgotten, were the thin plastic sandwiches which held a certain number of stray characters -- say, RUSKIS SUK -- that were used to authenticate launch orders for Minuteman (and cotemporal) launch system. You'd get the message, which would include a character string, open up the authenticator -- 'pop the cookie' -- and if they matched, three, two, one, dual keyturn time. We used them all the time in Minuteman launch training, though a real one -- fresh, never used -- was expensive, so we'd just get to use old taped-together ones you'd seen a hundred times before. My favorite was the one whose authentication string was IN YUR TVGUIDE.

Authenticators were hypersecret stuff. They were kept in a small packet which was in turn kept locked in a red case somewhere in the launch control center -- 'the capsule'. Before I went on crew, the case was bolted to the floor; while I was there, it was bolted to the frame over the deputy's console. You handled them very carefully, because, out of the packet, they were known on occasion to spontaneously pop open. This would be very, very bad news, as it meant that every single group throughout the military that was using that specific authenticator would have to get a new one sent out from storage, and then swap them. Tedious, time-consuming, paranoia rampant. Though some crews would play with them. I changed over with a crew once who had already unlocked the red case upon our arrival in the capsule. One lock was undone, the other was still there. As soon as we were ready to do the official changeover, they opened the lock, grabbed their bags, and left the capsule. Where's the cookies? I asked, and they just laughed. I heard the elevator go up, while we hunted around. Finally, I called upstairs, where they were just coming out of the elevator. Where's the damn cookies! Well, the exiting commander said, casually, where cookies ought to be. In the oven. We flipped open the stubby little oven, and there they were. Oh, crap.

The first time I tried to open one, when we were training, it wouldn't open. Bend, twist, whatever I would do, that damn thing would not open. My crew commander said Ah, the hell with it -- if we get one authentication, we're going. Screw the dual authentication.

Hey, this is SAC -- Peace Is Our Profession (War is our hobby). Works for me.