Day 5: The Logarithmic Vault
Act I: Infiltration
Location: GrinchTech Backup Facility, Speicherstadt
You push through the heavy doors into the backup facility. It smells of ozone and… stale kale smoothies?
The room is a cavernous brick warehouse, but the center is dominated by The Vault. It’s an obnoxious cylinder of glass and chrome, glowing with a smug green light. Inside, you see the Holy Grail: The Master Plan. Physical files. Hard drives. A half-eaten sandwich labeled “Property of CEO.”
You approach the terminal. It doesn’t beep; it sighs. A holographic projection of the Grinch appears—not the scary version, but the annoyed, “this meeting could have been an email” version. He looks at you with deep exhaustion.
System Message from CEO
“Oh, for the love of… You’re still here?
I honestly thought the quadratic equations would bore you to death. Literally. I had the oxygen scrubbers set to ‘Ennui.’
Fine. You want into my private vault? You want to see how I plan to ‘disrupt’ your precious little holiday into a high-efficiency void of silence?
Then prove you aren’t just counting on your fingers. This is Logarithmic Encryption. It scales exponentially. Unlike your IQ, which seems to have plateaued somewhere around ‘hamster.’
Unlock these four tumblers. Or don’t. I have a trapdoor scheduled to open in five minutes, and my crocodiles are hungry.”
– GR
The Challenge
The keypad glares at you. The Grinch has renamed the security layers to mock you.
Lock 1: “The Toddler Test”
The system demands a basic evaluation to see if you’re worth its CPU cycles.
\[\text{Evaluate: } \log_2(32)\]
Grinch’s Note: “If you need to count on your fingers for this, I’m activating the trapdoor early. The crocodiles haven’t been fed for a while.”
Enter the value:
Lock 2: “Redundancy for Idiots”
The Grinch assumes you’ll mess up the addition rule.
\[\log_3(9) + \log_3(27)\]
Grinch’s Note: “If you try to use a calculator for this, a small electric shock will be administered to your keyboard. I’m watching.”
Lock 3: “The Panic Inducer”
A red countdown timer appears. It’s moving uncomfortably fast.
\[\text{Solve for } x \text{ before the crocodiles are released: } \quad 5^x = 125\]
Grinch’s Note: “The clock is real. The crocodiles are real. Tick tock. They can hear your heartbeat through the floor sensors.”
Enter x:
Lock 4: “The Ego check”
The final lock uses Base 4, just because the Grinch prefers it.
\[\text{Compute: } \log_4(64)\]
System Note: “Most people fail here. Try not to be most people.”
Status Update
You punch in the final code. The vault lets out a disappointed groan, as if it can’t believe you actually got it right. The glass slides open.
You grab the Master Plan. It’s worse than you thought. * Protocol “Silent Night”: Using drones to absorb sound waves from carolers. * Project “Coal”: Converting all chocolate Santas into 99% dark cacao (the bitter kind). * The Algorithm: A code designed to auto-cancel holiday flight reservations randomly.
Suddenly, the giant screen flickers. The Grinch appears again. He’s holding a green juice and looking at his watch.
Live feed - GrinchTech Executive Suite
“Ugh. The alarm. It’s so loud. Can you hear that? I composed it myself. It’s called ‘The Sound of Your Futility.’
So, you have my files. Bravo. You figured out logarithms. Would you like a participation trophy? I 3D-printed some, but I threw them in the Elbe.
Look, you have the data, but you don’t have the keys. My supply chain is encrypted with math so annoying, so tedious, that you’ll wish you were back in algebra class.
Go ahead. Try to fix Christmas. I’ll be here, shorting the stock market on tinsel companies.
Toodles.”
– GR
The screen cuts to black. You have the files. You have a headache. And you have a very angry Grinch to stop.
Critical Intel Acquired:
- ✓ The Grinch’s Ego (It’s massive)
- ✓ Master Plan Files
- ✓ Knowledge that he drinks Kale Smoothies