hil Chartrukian slammed down his receiver. Jabba's linewas busy; Jabba spurned call-waiting as an intrusive gimmick thatwas introduced by AT&T to increase profits by connecting everycall; the simple phrase "I'm on the other line, I'llcall you back" made phone companies millions annually.Jabba's refusal of call-waiting was his own brand of silentobjection to the NSA's requirement that he carry an emergencycellular at all times.

Chartrukian turned and looked out at the deserted Crypto floor.The hum of the generators below sounded louder every minute. Hesensed that time was running out. He knew he was supposed to leave,but from out of the rumble beneath Crypto, the Sys-Sec mantra beganplaying in his head: Act first, explain later.

In the high-stakes world of computer security, minutes oftenmeant the difference between saving a system or losing it. Therewas seldom time to justify a defensive procedure before taking it.Sys-Secs were paid for their technical expertise… and theirinstinct.

Act first, explain later. Chartrukian knew what he had todo. He also knew that when the dust settled, he would be either anNSA hero or in the unemployment line.

The great decoding computer had a virus—of that, theSys-Sec was certain. There was one responsible course of action.Shut it down.

Chartrukian knew there were only two ways to shut down TRANSLTR.One was the commander's private terminal, which was locked inhis office—out of the question. The other was the manualkill-switch located on one of the sublevels beneath the Cryptofloor.

Chartrukian swallowed hard. He hated the sublevels. He'donly been there once, during training. It was like something out ofan alien world with its long mazes of catwalks, freon ducts, and adizzy 136-foot drop to the rumbling power supplies below…

It was the last place he felt like going, and Strathmore was thelast person he felt like crossing, but duty was duty. They'll thank me tomorrow, he thought, wondering if he wasright.

Taking a deep breath, Chartrukian opened the seniorSys-Sec's metal locker. On a shelf of disassembled computerparts, hidden behind a media concentrator and LAN tester, was aStanford alumni mug. Without touching the rim, he reached insideand lifted out a single Medeco key.

"It's amazing," he grumbled, "whatSystem-Security officers don't know aboutsecurity."