Lonnie Donegan, the Scottish skiffle singer, composer and guitarist, was born on January 29th 1931.

Doegans father was a Scot of irish descent, his mother Irish, they moved to London while the boy was still quite young, but he was not allowed to forget his heritage.

Considered by some to be our first pop superstar, James Anthony Donegan burst onto the scene in the mid-1950s with a distinctive, lively sound called "skiffle", which was based loosely on American folk music. His first big hit, Rock Island Line, achieved the then rare distinction of soaring up the US hit parade, and he was rarely out of the charts from then until "The Beatles" era.

Chase nods slowly. "Um. Thanks, Rachel. You've been very helpful."

"Glad I could be." Rachel gives a small smile. "If 10 really is alive, I'm glad I could help figure that out."

Jackie stands. "I guess we'll go now. Schneep, do you want a tour of the building or something?"

"That would be appreciated," Henrik says.

"Alright, let's go do that."

Henrik and Chase stand as well, with Chase tucking his journal beneath his arm.

"You guys go on," Xio says. "I'll stay and hang out with Rachel a bit."

"Oh you really don't have to do that," Rachel says.

"No, I want to."

"Oh, you guys were fast," Jackie says. "But I guess that makes sense, since we just figured out the weird time stuff. Though, uh...that's really weird."

"Hey doctor man, you worked there, right?" Xio asks. "Different department or whatever, but you worked there. What would it mean if even the highest clearance couldn't access a thing."

Henrik pauses in thought. "Well, I...I have never heard of that. But I assume that there would still be admin access. That belongs to the head of whatever department the file is part of."

"So...Ayer," Chase sums up.

"Ayer," Henrik confirms.

"A file only Ayer can access doesn't sound good." Jackie folds their arms. "Why 10 but not 11? If they died in the same test?"

"Well, 10 didn't die, apparently," Chase reminds them.

"Are you guys getting that weird brain feeling again?" Chase asks. "Wonder why that happens..."

"No, wait, Rachel, what did you say?" Jackie leans forward. "Do you know what this means?"

"Well...yes," she says slowly. "I don't know why it was so important, but I think I do."

"You think the message means Subject 10, right?" Xio guesses. "You remember them?"

Rachel nods slowly.

"Well...perhaps if you tell us about them, we will know why it was important," Henrik says.

"Makes sense." Jackie nods.

Rachel shrugs. "No idea."

"It has to be related to your Morse code messages, yes?" Henrik asks.

"You know," Jackie says slowly. "There is such thing as a keyword cypher. Maybe this Morse code message is doubly encoded with a cipher. What's the message, again?"

"Uhh..." Chase looks down at his journal. "U-E-M-E-B-G-N-G-M-E-U-B." He glances around. "Uh, since this doesn't mean anything on its own, I guess it makes sense if it was encoded."

"Sounds like you need two keywords," Xio says. "'Her last name' and 'the person she cares most about.' How do these keyword codes work?"

Everyone sits down, arranging the folding chairs around Rachel's bed. "So, uh...this is gonna sound weird," Chase says. "You know I was...also in there." He pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. "While I was, I found out that there were a bunch of secret messages under my bed's mattress, which Xio said probably came from the guy who was there before."

Xio nods. "Didn't we figure out it was a mind reader? Number sixty-something."

"Right. Thanks." Chase nods. "Well, uh, one of those messages was coded. It said, 'Rachel is Midas. Go ask her.' But, uh, we're not sure what to ask."

Rachel blinks. "Oh. Huh." She goes quiet for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Xio asks quietly.

"Yeah, I'm just...wondering what you'd want to ask me," Rachel says.

"Well, what's the Midas thing?" Jackie asks. "That could help narrow it down."

"Oh, that? They called me that sometimes. Cause of this." Rachel indicates her hair. "I produce gold. See?" She rolls up the sleeve of the shirt she's wearing. Gold flakes fall out, a layer of gold leaf over her skin being rubbed off by the sleeve as it's rolled.

"Fascinating," Henrik says, eyes wide. "It just appears on you? I wonder how. Gold is an element. Are you creating matter? From nothing? Without any energy byproduct?"

"I-I don't know. But, uh, it doesn't really matter." Rachel looks a bit uncomfortable.

Henrik leans backwards. "Sorry."