hall.
Wirenut and I situated ourselves on either side of him on the beds. TL ran his finger across the laptop’s touch pad, and the screen flickered on.
Chapling’s, Beaker’s, and David’s faces appeared, transmitted via satellite.
David looked right at me, and his eyes crinkled. I smiled as my stomach jingle-jangled.
Chapling waved. Next to him, Beaker remained blank-faced.
She’d dyed her green hair black, and I wondered, as I had many times before, what her natural color was.
A five-pointed crown popped up on the bottom left corner of the screen.
“Here’s the crown you’re after tonight,” Chapling began. “This belonged to the first king of Rissala. It’s currently located in the Museum of History and holds the next encrypted message. GiGi, tell us what you found out.”
I slipped on my glasses. “I input the crown’s dimensions into the SNI system and coded the chemical makeup I found on file. I interpreted the history and prohibited rendering of visual framework. Attributes of the ID class were discouraged, but I forced a break by controlling the elements. Traditionally, intrinsic scripts render subsequences. But after only a few moments, I addressed the stylistic treatment of pontdu. So that’s no longer an issue. However, with quote blocks marching ores, we secured a designated source document. Abbreviated text shows—”
“Uh,” David stuck his finger in the air, “you lost me way back at the crown’s dimensions.” He patted his T-shirt pocket. “And I forgot my secret decoder ring. Can you make it simple for me? For us?”
This happened all the time with me. “Oh, right. Sorry.”
Chomping her gum, Beaker snorted.
Chapling perked up. “I understood you.”
I gave him a thank-you-but-of-course-you-understood-me-you’re-a-nerd-too smile.
He bounced his bushy red brows, and I silently laughed. I adored Chapling.
TL shifted. “You’re doing fine, GiGi. Finish up.”
I took a second to ungeek all the mumble jumble in my brain. “After digging through various online archives, I discovered crowns have been used for centuries to hide objects. The encrypted message should be located in one of the jewels decorating the crown’s five points. We don’t have time to remove thejewels and break them all open. Beaker, this is where you come in.”
With a nod, Beaker took the gum out of her mouth. “Each crown point has a ruby and an emerald. One drop of barium gentrea will expose any imperfection in a ruby. Two drops of carmine nitrate will take care of the emeralds. I suggest you try the rubies first. My research revealed that more people embed messages in those than in emeralds because rubies are easier to manipulate. Once they’re transparent you can see which one hides the message. Voilà. Nothing fancy about it.” She tossed her gum back in her mouth.
“What about the encrypted message?” I asked. “The fading. Anything on that yet?”
“Oxygen activates it.” She shook her head. “That’s all I know. I don’t know how to stop it. Sorry. You’ll just have to work quickly.”
“That’s all right,” TL said. “GiGi did it last time. She can do it again.”
Nothing like pressure.
“Where do we get these chemicals for the gems?” asked Wirenut.
“We have a local contact. I’ll take care of it.” TL reached for the laptop. “Still nothing on the burglar’s identity?”
Chapling shook his head.
“Okay. Signing off.” TL pressed the escape key, and the screen went black.
I didn’t even have a chance to look at David one last time.
That evening, Wirenut and I knelt behind a gravestone, scoping out the back side of the Museum of History. Three entrance possibilities: front door, side window, rear door. No other entry points existed on the one-room stone structure.
To the untrained, the building had the lure of an easy job. The old looks can be deceiving held true in this instance. I’d learned a lot from Wirenut during this morning’s
Wirenut and I situated ourselves on either side of him on the beds. TL ran his finger across the laptop’s touch pad, and the screen flickered on.
Chapling’s, Beaker’s, and David’s faces appeared, transmitted via satellite.
David looked right at me, and his eyes crinkled. I smiled as my stomach jingle-jangled.
Chapling waved. Next to him, Beaker remained blank-faced.
She’d dyed her green hair black, and I wondered, as I had many times before, what her natural color was.
A five-pointed crown popped up on the bottom left corner of the screen.
“Here’s the crown you’re after tonight,” Chapling began. “This belonged to the first king of Rissala. It’s currently located in the Museum of History and holds the next encrypted message. GiGi, tell us what you found out.”
I slipped on my glasses. “I input the crown’s dimensions into the SNI system and coded the chemical makeup I found on file. I interpreted the history and prohibited rendering of visual framework. Attributes of the ID class were discouraged, but I forced a break by controlling the elements. Traditionally, intrinsic scripts render subsequences. But after only a few moments, I addressed the stylistic treatment of pontdu. So that’s no longer an issue. However, with quote blocks marching ores, we secured a designated source document. Abbreviated text shows—”
“Uh,” David stuck his finger in the air, “you lost me way back at the crown’s dimensions.” He patted his T-shirt pocket. “And I forgot my secret decoder ring. Can you make it simple for me? For us?”
This happened all the time with me. “Oh, right. Sorry.”
Chomping her gum, Beaker snorted.
Chapling perked up. “I understood you.”
I gave him a thank-you-but-of-course-you-understood-me-you’re-a-nerd-too smile.
He bounced his bushy red brows, and I silently laughed. I adored Chapling.
TL shifted. “You’re doing fine, GiGi. Finish up.”
I took a second to ungeek all the mumble jumble in my brain. “After digging through various online archives, I discovered crowns have been used for centuries to hide objects. The encrypted message should be located in one of the jewels decorating the crown’s five points. We don’t have time to remove thejewels and break them all open. Beaker, this is where you come in.”
With a nod, Beaker took the gum out of her mouth. “Each crown point has a ruby and an emerald. One drop of barium gentrea will expose any imperfection in a ruby. Two drops of carmine nitrate will take care of the emeralds. I suggest you try the rubies first. My research revealed that more people embed messages in those than in emeralds because rubies are easier to manipulate. Once they’re transparent you can see which one hides the message. Voilà. Nothing fancy about it.” She tossed her gum back in her mouth.
“What about the encrypted message?” I asked. “The fading. Anything on that yet?”
“Oxygen activates it.” She shook her head. “That’s all I know. I don’t know how to stop it. Sorry. You’ll just have to work quickly.”
“That’s all right,” TL said. “GiGi did it last time. She can do it again.”
Nothing like pressure.
“Where do we get these chemicals for the gems?” asked Wirenut.
“We have a local contact. I’ll take care of it.” TL reached for the laptop. “Still nothing on the burglar’s identity?”
Chapling shook his head.
“Okay. Signing off.” TL pressed the escape key, and the screen went black.
I didn’t even have a chance to look at David one last time.
That evening, Wirenut and I knelt behind a gravestone, scoping out the back side of the Museum of History. Three entrance possibilities: front door, side window, rear door. No other entry points existed on the one-room stone structure.
To the untrained, the building had the lure of an easy job. The old looks can be deceiving held true in this instance. I’d learned a lot from Wirenut during this morning’s
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