hat if someone else is looking for the ring?" Susanasked, suddenly nervous. "Could David be in danger?"

Strathmore shook his head. "Nobody else knows the ringexists. That's why I sent David. I wanted to keep it that way.Curious spooks don't usually tail Spanish teachers."

"He's a professor," Susan corrected, immediatelyregretting the clarification. Every now and again Susan got thefeeling David wasn't good enough for the commander, that hethought somehow she could do better than a schoolteacher.

"Commander," she said, moving on, "if you briefedDavid by car phone this morning, someone could have interceptedthe—"

"One-in-a-million shot," Strathmore interrupted, histone reassuring. "Any eavesdropper had to be in the immediatevicinity and know exactly what to listen for." He put his handon her shoulder. "I would never have sent David if I thoughtit was dangerous." He smiled. "Trust me. Any sign oftrouble, and I'll send in the pros."

Strathmore's words were punctuated by the sudden sound ofsomeone pounding on the Node 3 glass. Susan and Strathmoreturned.

Sys-Sec Phil Chartrukian had his face pressed against the paneand was pounding fiercely, straining to see through. Whatever hewas excitedly mouthing was not audible through the soundproofedglass. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"What the hell is Chartrukian doing here?" Strathmoregrowled. "He's not on duty today."

"Looks like trouble," Susan said. "He probablysaw the Run-Monitor."

"Goddamn it!" the commander hissed. "Ispecifically called the scheduled Sys-Sec last night and told himnot to come in!"

Susan was not surprised. Canceling a Sys-Sec duty was irregular,but Strathmore undoubtedly had wanted privacy in the dome. The lastthing he needed was some paranoid Sys-Sec blowing the lid offDigital Fortress.

"We better abort TRANSLTR," Susan said. "We canreset the Run-Monitor and tell Phil he was seeing things."

Strathmore appeared to consider it, then shook his head."Not yet. TRANSLTR is fifteen hours into this attack. I wantto run it a full twenty-four—just to be sure."

This made sense to Susan. Digital Fortress was the first everuse of a rotating cleartext function. Maybe Tankado had overlookedsomething; maybe TRANSLTR would break it after twenty-four hours.Somehow Susan doubted it.

"TRANSLTR keeps running," Strathmore resolved. "Ineed to know for sure this algorithm is untouchable."

Chartrukian continued pounding on the pane.

"Here goes nothing." Strathmore groaned. "Back meup."

The commander took a deep breath and then strode to the slidingglass doors. The pressure plate on the floor activated, and thedoors hissed open.

Chartrukian practically fell into the room. "Commander,sir. I… I'm sorry to bother you, but the Run-Monitor… I ran a virus probe and—"

"Phil, Phil, Phil," the commander gushed pleasantly ashe put a reassuring hand on Chartrukian's shoulder. "Slowdown. What seems to be the problem?"

From the easygoing tone in Strathmore's voice, nobody wouldever have guessed his world was falling in around him. He steppedaside and ushered Chartrukian into the sacred walls of Node 3. TheSys-Sec stepped over the threshold hesitantly, like a well-traineddog that knew better.

From the puzzled look on Chartrukian's face, it was obvioushe'd never seen the inside of this place. Whatever had beenthe source of his panic was momentarily forgotten. He surveyed theplush interior, the line of private terminals, the couches, thebookshelves, the soft lighting. When his gaze fell on the reigningqueen of Crypto, Susan Fletcher, he quickly looked away. Susanintimidated the hell out of him. Her mind worked on a differentplane. She was unsettlingly beautiful, and his words always seemedto get jumbled around her. Susan's unassuming air made it evenworse.

"What seems to be the problem, Phil?" Strathmore said,opening the refrigerator. "Drink?"

"No, ah—no, thank you, sir." He seemedtongue-tied, not sure he was truly welcome. "Sir… I thinkthere's a problem with TRANSLTR."

Strathmore closed the refrigerator and looked at Chartrukiancasually. "You mean the Run-Monitor?"

Chartrukian looked shocked. "You mean you've seen it?"

"Sure. It's running at about sixteen hours, ifI'm not mistaken."

Chartrukian seemed puzzled. "Yes, sir, sixteen hours. Butthat's not all, sir. I ran a virus probe, and it'sturning up some pretty strange stuff."

"Really?" Strathmore seemed unconcerned. "Whatkind of stuff?"

Susan watched, impressed with the commander'sperformance.

Chartrukian stumbled on. "TRANSLTR's processingsomething very advanced. The filters have never seen anything likeit. I'm afraid TRANSLTR may have some sort of virus."

"A virus?" Strathmore chuckled with just a hint ofcondescension. "Phil, I appreciate your concern, I really do.But Ms. Fletcher and I are running a new diagnostic, some veryadvanced stuff. I would have alerted you to it, but I wasn'taware you were on duty today."

The Sys-Sec did his best to cover gracefully. "I switchedwith the new guy. I took his weekend shift."

Strathmore's eyes narrowed. "That's odd. I spoketo him last night. I told him not to come in. He said nothing aboutswitching shifts."

Chartrukian felt a knot rise in his throat. There was a tensesilence.

"Well." Strathmore finally sighed. "Sounds likean unfortunate mix-up." He put a hand on the Sys-Sec'sshoulder and led him toward the door. "The good news is youdon't have to stay. Ms. Fletcher and I will be here all day.We'll hold the fort. You just enjoy your weekend."

Chartrukian was hesitant. "Commander, I really think weshould check the—"

"Phil," Strathmore repeated a little more sternly,"TRANSLTR is fine. If your probe saw something strange,it's because we put it there. Now if you don'tmind…" Strathmore trailed off, and the Sys-Secunderstood. His time was up.

"A diagnostic, my ass!" Chartrukian muttered as hefumed back into the Sys-Sec lab. "What kind of loopingfunction keeps three million processors busy for sixteenhours?"

Chartrukian wondered if he should call the Sys-Sec supervisor.Goddamn cryptographers, he thought. They just don'tunderstand security!

The oath Chartrukian had taken when he joined Sys-Sec beganrunning through his head. He had sworn to use his expertise,training, and instinct to protect the NSA'smultibillion-dollar investment.

"Instinct," he said defiantly. It doesn't takea psychic to know this isn't any goddamn diagnostic!

Defiantly, Chartrukian strode over to the terminal and fired upTRANSLTR's complete array of system assessment software.

"Your baby's in trouble, Commander," he grumbled."You don't trust instinct? I'll get youproof!"