>"Anon, could you recalibrate the photodiode responsivity on 13 to an ambient temperature of 23C"?
>_ciredit -diode p13 -temp 23
>_calibrating diode 13 to ambient temp. 13 Centigrade
>_diode 13 cabilbrated
"Done"
>"Hmmm, these readings can't be right. The infrated radiation emitted by this device should be cooking us alive."
"Maybe it's not infrared. Maybe it's an electromagnetic field inducing a charge in the circuitry behind the diode."
>"We checked for electromagnetic radiation. It can't be that. The sensor is reading 0.0"
>Twilight runs some calculations on her terminal, and turns to you
>"Try calibrating all photodiodes for a temperature of... 137C"
"You're the boss"
>_ciredit -diode p* -temp 137
>_calibrating all diodes "p*" to ambient temp 137 Centigrade
>_diodes "p*" calibrated
>Immediately your electrical sensors start picking up a huge constant current
>"There it is! But what could it mean?"
"Hang on, let me try something."
>"Wait, what are you-"
>_ciredit record -mode dc
>_recording electrical current in DC mode
>Instead of reading a constant AC current, the machine is now recording a series of rapid DC currents followed by dips toward 0
>"Anon, I didn't say to change anything."

"I know, just trust me, I think we're on the right track."
>"Well change it back. We can't mess with the data!"
"Alright, I got it."
>_ciredit record -mode ac
>_recording electrical current in ac mode
"Alright. Now, I want to look into something. I think I can get us some results."
>You open the DC recording into a spectrograph program
>Twilight joins you at your terminal
>"You'd better be onto something"
"We'll see."
>You check the properties to determine the highest voltage peak, and set the reference point to half of that
>Now the peaks and dips go above and below the middle line, just like
"It looks like a waveform."
>Her expression remains as cold and calculated as ever, but you've known her long enough to see a glimmer of hope peeking through
>"You're right."
>You export the waveform as a .wav file and play it through the terminal's speakers
>"-OPERTY OF THE EQUESTRIAN THRONE. RETURN IT TO YOUR NEAREST MAYOR OR GOVERNOR IMMEDIATELY... THIS DEVICE IS PROPERTY OF THE EQUESTRIAN THRONE. RETURN IT TO YOUR NEAREST MAYOR OR GOVERNOR IMMEDIATELY... THIS DEVICE IS PROPERT-"
>You and Twilight stare at the screen for what feels like ages
>You chance to turn to look at your boss and see a genuine smile
>It's small, it's subtle, but it's there
>This means a major breakthrough has just occurred
>"Well," she says in her usual neutral tone, "I believe I should trust you more often."
>She walks around to the testing area and begins reexamining the device
>"Set the recording mode back to DC current."
"On it."
>_ciredit record -mode dc -verbose -interval 10
>_recording electrical current in DC mode with verbose text outputs in 10 second intervals
"Done. I've also enabled verbose output at 10 second intervals."
>"Good idea. Monitor the average and maximum current intensity. That should tell is if the audio has changed."
"Understood."
>As you monitor the outputs from the program, Twilight ventures something she hasn't done so far
>Donning thick rubber gloves and a protective tinted face shield, she gingerly touches one of the circles on the outside of the device
>At first, the miniature flying saucer, or perhaps clamshell amulet, doesn't respond
>But then, the six illuminated dots on the outside change from red to six colors:
>Purple, blue, white, pink, yellow, and orange
"Twilight, we've got a change in the signal. And now, it's gone."
>She rushes over to your terminal where you are already repeating the same steps as before
>You open the sound file and
>"Please enter the passcode within the next 30 seconds."
>You immediately check the clock on your display
"We have 10 seconds left."
>"The blast room."
>The two of you rush into the blast room, a sealed chamber made of solid lead-lined reinforced concrete with 6 layers of 2-inch thick cadmium-treated bulletproof glass with nitrogen gas filling the spaces
>A lead-filled steel barrier stands ready to fall in the event of ionizing radiation levels exceeding the capacity of the glass
>Of course it won't stop an atomic bomb detonation, but it can prevent you from being fried by a runaway fission reaction
>The rest of the building is, of course equipped to handle such a meltdown
>As the two of you prepare for the worst, the device simply returns to its red state, and the current returns to its "Government Property" message
"Alright, there doesn't seem to be a penalty for entering nothing. It just went back to the default message."
>"Even still, we probably shouldn't enter anything then. There may be a penalty for entering the wrong code."
"Should we research the colors of the lights?"
>"Make a note of it. For now, we should monitor and study it more."
"Maybe find out about this mysterious cold infrared radiation?"
>'That's what I was thinking."
>She exits the blast room and heads back into the testing chamber
>"You know me so well."
"Well, we've only known each other for 16 of the last 22 years. I'd imagine we should be intimately familiar by now."
>"Is that your way of asking me out?"
"Of course not. I know better than to date the boss "
>She smirks a little at this
>"Shame."
>You smile as well
>You may be a pair of science obsessed, workaholic genii, but who's to say you can't have a little humor in the office
>It doesn't hurt that you and Twi have been the best of friends since age six
>Competitive, rivalling, but always friends
>Seems like she's the winner, since she owns the lab
>And here you are, working for her as her underling
>And there's nowhere you'd rather be
>"We should head home and get some sleep. Leave the computers running, but change the output intervals to 300 seconds."
>A few quick taps on the keyboard and
"Done."
>"Alright, Anonymous, I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bright and early."
>The two of you part ways to retrieve your personal effects and head to your vehicles
>The other employees have long left, their time clocks maxed out for the day
>As always, you turn and look at the imposing building where you work everyday
>Twilight has worked so hard to get where she is now, and so have you
>That sign, with its bright letters stands as a reminder of what you've built together over the last decade
>One of the nation's leading research companies, dealing with all sorts of science, but specializing in electromagnetic radiation
>The work you and you teams do here is revolutionizing energy, commerce, information transfer
>And it's only going to get better from here
>A company with investors all over the globe
>A lab with the highest tech and most loyal security to be found
>All started ten short years ago by two twelve-year-olds with a dream
>Ten years of blood, sweat, and tears are memorialized in those giant white letters:
SCILIGHT LABORATORIES, INC