I decided the cards must be encrypted. Normal programming might look like impenetrable nerd jargon, but there are still words like print, include, true, false, void. Unfortunately, while administrative records and event photography from ARPA may have made their way onto the Web, encryption codes from the government’s top technology division had not. I sent a copy of the cards’ data to a web developer I knew, who was also a hobbyist cryptographer. In the meantime, I returned once more to the cards.

The paper was tarnished with the subtle browns of age, overlapping grease-stains, and sunlight. I studied high-res scans, and their swirl of creams and sepias between #CFAF93 and #794f1f . I examined every inch of the cards, identified the fonts used in their printing, and emailed a chemist I knew from college to try and gain access to an X-ray spectrometer to analyze their elemental composition.

This is the sound the cards make when you bend them: