What’s a Scramblepad? It’s a type of number pad in which the numbers aren’t in fixed locations, and can only be seen from a narrow viewing angle. Every time the pad is activated, the buttons have different numbers. That way, a constant numerical code isn’t telegraphed by either button wear, or finger positions when punching it in. [Glen Akins] got his hands on one last year and figured out how to interface to it, and shared loads of nice photos and details about just how complicated this device was on the inside.
Patented in 1982 and used for access control, a Scramblepad aimed to avoid the risk of someone inferring a code by watching a user punch it in, while also preventing information leakage via wear and tear on the keys themselves. They were designed to solve some specific issues, but as [Glen] points out, there are many good reasons they aren’t used today. Not only is their accessibility poor (they only worked at a certain height and viewing angle, and aren’t accessible to sight-impaired folks) but on top of that they are complex, expensive, and not vandal-proof.
[Glen]’s Scramblepad might be obsolete, but with its black build, sharp lines, and red LED 7-segment displays it has an undeniable style. It also includes an RFID reader, allowing it to act as a kind of two-factor access control.
On the inside, the reader is a hefty piece of hardware with multiple layers of PCBs and antennas. Despite all the electronics crammed into the Scramblepad, all by itself it doesn’t do much. A central controller is what actually controls door access, and the pad communicates to this board via an unencrypted, proprietary protocol. [Glen] went through the work of decoding this, and designed a simplified board that he plans to use for his own door access controller.
In the meantime, it’s a great peek inside a neat piece of hardware. You can see [Glen]’s Scramblepad in action in the short video embedded below.
Don’t feel bad if you don’t know what Cistercian numbers are. Unless you’re a monk of the Order of Cistercia, there’s really no reason for you to learn the cipher that stretches back to the 13th-century. But then again, there’s no reason not to use the number system to make this medieval-cool computer number pad.
If you haven’t been introduced to the Cistercian number system, it’s actually pretty clever. There are several forms of it, but the vertical form used here by [Tauno Erik] is based on a vertical stave with nine glyphs that can be attached to or adjacent to it. Each glyph stands for one of the nine numerals — one through nine only; there’s no need for a zero glyph. There are four quadrants around the stave — upper right, upper left, lower right, and lower left — and where the glyph lies determines the multiplier for the glyph. So, if you wanted to write the number “1234”, you’d overlay the following glyphs into a single symbol as shown.
[Tauno]’s Cistercian keypad, admittedly more of an art and history piece than a useful peripheral, somehow manages to look like it might have been on the desk of [Theodoric of York, Medieval Accountant]. Its case is laser-cut birch plywood, containing a custom PCB for the 20 keyboard switches and the Xiao RP2040 MCU that runs the show. Keycaps are custom made from what looks like oak combined with a 3D-printed part, similar to his previous wooden keycap macro pad. Each of the nine Cistercian glyphs is hand-carved into the keycaps, plus an imaginary glyph for zero, which wasn’t part of the system, as well as operators and symbols that might have baffled the medieval monks.
The native Cistercian system is limited to numbers between 1 and 9,999, so we’ll guess that the keypad just outputs the Arabic numeral corresponding to the Cistercian key pressed and doesn’t actually compose full Cistercian numbers. But the code to do that would be pretty easy, and the results pretty cool, if a bit confusing for users. Even if it’s just for looks, it’s still a cool project, and we doff the hood of our monkish robe to [Tauno] for this one.