"A pentagon ought to be able to give me permanent cryptanalysis expertise," Bella reasons. "Maybe the square can do a temporary version of the same thing, even if it can't answer direct questions." She tries this.

The square disappears, and she blinks, and dives for her notebook. "I have no idea how long this lasts - pen, pen - where's a - there -" She finds a pen and starts flicking her eyes rapidly back and forth between cipher symbols and her growing list of notes.