Napoleon

The Nano-T suddenly snapped around to face her snarling its color changing to a blood red. Then it turned away and began pecking the same series of icons again and again and again. Jan leaned forward staring at the screen. The symbols being hit were the lightning bolt the drumstick and an entirely new one: a simplified representation of a female like the kind which marked the women's restroom. Project Napoleon was highly classified. Its staff was minimal. Jan was the only woman. Translated the message could only read: No. Eat You. No. Eat You. No. Eat You ... It stopped abruptly. Jan scooted her chair back. Jesus she whispered staring straight ahead. He's threatening me.