nderneath the twisting mass of cables, Jabba was sweating. Hewas still on his back with a penlight clenched in his teeth.He'd gotten used to working late on weekends; the less hecticNSA hours were often the only times he could perform hardwaremaintenance. As he maneuvered the red-hot soldering iron throughthe maze of wires above him, he moved with exceptional care;singeing any of the dangling sheathes would be disaster.

Just another few inches, he thought. The job was takingfar longer than he'd imagined.

Just as he brought the tip of the iron against the final threadof raw solder, his cellular phone rang sharply. Jabba startled, hisarm twitched, and a large glob of sizzling, liquefied lead fell onhis arm.

"Shit!" He dropped the iron and practicallyswallowed his penlight. "Shit! Shit! Shit!"

He scrubbed furiously at the drop of cooling solder. It rolledoff, leaving an impressive welt. The chip he was trying to solderin place fell out and hit him in the head.

"Goddamn it!"

Jabba's phone summoned him again. He ignored it.

"Midge," he cursed under his breath. Damn you!Crypto's fine! The phone rang on. Jabba went back to workreseating the new chip. A minute later the chip was in place, buthis phone was still ringing. For Christ's sake, Midge! Giveit up!

The phone rang another fifteen seconds and finally stopped.Jabba breathed a sigh of relief.

Sixty seconds later the intercom overhead crackled. "Wouldthe chief Sys-Sec please contact the main switchboard for amessage."

Jabba rolled his eyes in disbelief. She just doesn'tgive up, does she? He ignored the page.