Donovan adjusted his headphones and twisted the frequency dial on his scanner, hunting for signals in the static. His worn notebook lay open beside him, pages filled with frequency maps and signal logs—seventeen confirmed hits this year, each one carefully documented. The gray cat worked his connections, trading information with other Rangers who understood the value of old-world tech. What he really wanted, what kept him scanning frequencies every night, was to find a legendary pre-war military encryption device. The old radio tech repair building had become his workshop. Its tan and red facade still showed white lettering from before the war. Inside, Donovan had set up everything he needed—tables for his equipment, shelves for his manuals, space to work. This would be his headquarters for the search. He'd finally have a proper place to organize his frequency logs and equipment instead of working out of his barracks. He mounted the vintage signal receiver on its wooden stand near the window. The brass dials caught the light as he connected it to his main scanner array. Sun-bleached panels gave the receiver character. This beauty could intercept old military signals that his standard equipment might miss. Donovan's tail swished with excitement as he calibrated the settings. A weathered hollow rock sat on his desk, waiting. The narrow slit opening and wind-worn surface made it perfect for what he needed. His contacts could leave messages about the encryption device there, and he could reply without meeting face-to-face. Some Rangers preferred it that way. Donovan logged the rock's location in his notebook, then returned to his scanner. The search was just beginning.