UNDERGROUND

book, no small task since Mendax was an avid reader, and held each one upside down looking for hidden computer passwords on loose pieces of paper. They grabbed every bit of paper with handwriting on it and poured through his love letters, notebooks and private diaries. 'We don't care how long it takes to do this job,' one cop quipped. 'We're getting paid overtime. And danger money.'

The feds even riffled through Mendax's collection of old *Scientific American* and *New Scientist* magazines. Maybe they thought he had underlined a word somewhere and turned it into a passphrase for an encryption program.

Of course, there was only one magazine the feds really wanted: *International Subversive*. They scooped up every print- out of the electronic journal they could find.

As Mendax watched the federal police sift through his pos- sessions and disassemble his computer room, an officer who had some expertise with Amigas arrived. He told Mendax to get the hell out of the computer room.

Mendax didn't want to leave the room. He wasn't under arrest and wanted to make sure the police didn't plant anything. So he looked at the cop and said, 'This is my house and I want to stay in this room. Am I under arrest or not?'

The cop snarled back at him, 'Do you want to be under arrest?'

Mendax acquiesced and Day, who was far more subtle in his approach, walked the hacker into another room for ques- tioning. He turned to Mendax and asked, with a slight grin, 'So, what's it like being busted? Is it like Nom told you?'

Mendax froze.

There were only two ways that Day could have known Nom had told Mendax about his bust. Nom might have told him, but this was highly unlikely. Nom's hacking case had not yet gone to court and Nom wasn't exactly on chummy terms with the police. The other alternative was that the AFP had been tapping telephones in Mendax's circle of hackers, which the IS trio had strongly suspected. Talking in a three-way phone con-