Page 58 of Boxed In

He touched each of them on the keyboard, committing them to memory in the right order. Decorah43.

His eyes blinked open, and he stared at the screen.

“Did you just type Decorah43?” Olivia whispered.

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“I told you I worked for Decorah Security.”

Luke didn’t know why that had turned into the password or how. But it had done the trick. Before they could discuss it further, a circle appeared in the center of the screen. The word above it said, “Enter.” Only it wasn’t in English—or any language he had ever seen. The letters weren’t Roman, or Greek or Cyrillic. They were something much older. A language that had originated on the Indian subcontinent thousands of years ago.

He moved the cursor to the button on the screen and clicked the mouse.

And suddenly he was past the first screen and into the Web site—not that it would have done Luke Garner any good.

The words that marched across the screen were written in the language that had appeared over the button.

“What’s that?” Olivia whispered.

“Let me read it.”

“You can read that?”

“Not on my own,” Luke answered. “But the big Z can.”

“That’s the language the . . . Moon Priests speak?”

“That’s their native language. Yes.”

oOo

Olivia watched as Luke read the words on the screen. They were overlaid on pictures--a mountain shrouded in mist. The moon shining through the clouds. A drop of rain glistening on a leaf.

She stared at the text, unable to make heads or tails of anything.

“What does it say?” she asked.

“It’s for Zabastian.”

“Specifically?”

“Yes.”

“How did they know you’d find the Web site?

“They couldn’t be sure. But they were hoping I would be able to do it.”

“And?”

“They want to know if the box is safe.”

“How do you tell them?”

He laughed. “Well, there’s a button for—‘get in touch with us.’” He pointed to one of the small rectangles on the left side of the screen.

“How could an ancient cult use the Web and e-mail?”

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