The box itself lacked a lock, or a key, its latches proved purely decorative. There was a functionality to that, as well, and it was fashioned in a nearly nihilistic way: there was no point to locking it, thought Chilton. The electronic tablet encased was encrypted. It was logical to calculate the slimmed likelihood of anyone coming into close enough proximity to even touch the box, much less hack into the mainframe -- the narrow line of exception, however, rested solely on Danger's shoulders.

Subconsciously, at least, Chilton knew that Danger was capable of hacking into his personal profiling of his patients. Within that white, crisp tablet was all of his observations, analyses, and facts about his patients that couldn't be put to official documentation -- coalesced.

Including Danger's project.

"Return that!"

Chilton jumped to action, his fingers leaping for Danger's wrists.

"Give that back to me! Now!"