Chiana slides into the room.  “Rygel,” she hisses in a whisper, “what are you doing in here?”

“There is no security.  The door is never locked.”

“What are you doing?” she asks again.

“This device is connected to their databanks.  I am conducting research.”

“What kind of research?”

“None of your business.  Go away!”  He turns off the display until she leaves.  

“Now, Crichton,” he says once he is alone.  “I will finally learn the truth.”  

He types the word ‘Buckwheat’, stubby fingers searching out the unfamiliar characters one by one,
then presses the key that will unlock the secrets.  


                                                         
* ~ * ~ * ~* ~ *
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