Senator Albert Brosky scribbled his name at the bottom of the paper and slid it across his desk to his aide.  He did the same to the next paper and then the next.  The aide looked at these papers, skimmed them briefly, then stacked the papers, neatened them, and then stapled them.  He looked up at the senator as he inserted the packet into a folder.  "I'll go deliver these to the Senate President, sir."

"Go ahead, Sean," Brosky replied.  "I hate paperwork sometimes, but it's part of the job.  Get yourself a cup of java while you're out, and bring one back for me, too."

"Yes, sir," Sean replied, and then left the office.  As the aide left, the larger and burlier form of Brosky's head of security walked in, his beard bristling.  "Ah, Jamie.  What is it this time?"

"Why aren't ye doin' anythin' about that hacker in Administration?" Col. James MacKenzie demanded.

Brosky sighed.  Since March, when a hostile hacker tried to infect the Teracomputer with a bug that tampered with the Metaverse weather generators, the Guardian in charge of the investigation had brought in a former hacker to help with the restoration.  The ex-hacker in question, Calvin West (known to the hacking community and his colleagues in Project Metaverse Administration as "Cowboy") had been a target for some of Brosky's own vitriol on the nefarious nature of hacking, and Jamie Mac had picked up on some of Brosky's views.

"Because, Jamie, it would be far too much trouble to remove a minor annoyance," the senator replied.  "Calvin West admittedly has talent, and to spend the money having him discredited and removed, and then spending the money finding a suitable replacement is not worth it."  He looked at his next article to peruse for the senate's review.  "If you want to get rid of a hacker, go find the one who was responsible for Dr. Koracks' death."

Jamie Mac grunted and started to leave, then paused as Brosky's comm rang.  The senator looked at it, then picked it up.  "Senator Brosky," he said by way of greeting.

"Hi, Al!" a synthesized voice said cheerfully on the other end.

Brosky instantly covered the receiver and snapped at his chief of security.  "It's Chaotis!  What do you need for a trace?"  He put the comm back to his ear and spoke into it. "Ah, Chaotis," he said with mock cheerfulness back to the hacker.  "What brings you to make this call today?"

"Put your comm on visual."  Brosky reached to his commset and opened its screen and tapped it on.  A man in a black-and-red silk harlequinn's mask grinned at him.  A computer-generated background of red swirls undulated behind him.  "Ah, Al, you're looking well."

"I wish I could say the same, Chaotis," Brosky said.  "Still wearing the mask?"

"Always," Chaotis said as his mask twisted with his grin.

Brosky glanced briefly off the vidwindow at Jamie Mac, who was hunched over a computer.  The Scot shook his head and raised two fingers.  Brosky looked back at Chaotis.  "It's been a while," the senator said.  "Why the long delay?  It's been six months."

"Oh, I had to set up shop elsewhere.  Having one's base of operations captured will do that."  Chaotis steepled his fingers.  "But I'm not calling about our little arrangement."

"That arrangement," Brosky snapped, "was terminated after you let that mercenary Justice find out I was behind it!"

"I didn't let him find out anything.  I just left a hint."  Chaotis leaned forward. "I'll admit I knew he'd figure it out, because I know how the man thinks."

"Really?" Brosky said, voice dripping with scorn.  "And why is that?"

"Because I used to know him."  Chaotis shook his head at the senator's reaction. "I wasn't a mercenary, if that's what you're thinking."  He broke off a moment, looked at something off-screen, then back at Brosky.  "By the way, tell Colonel MacKenzie that I'm not in Linux, no matter what his analysis says."

Jamie Mac came over with a grin.  "Sir, we got his loc!"  He held out a datapad.  "He's in System Linux, district Alpha!"

Brosky gave him a tired look, took the pad and threw it aside.  "Thank you, Jamie," he said shortly, then turned his burning eyes back to the hacker on the screen.  "Why did you call me, Chaotis?  Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for me?"

"Of course, Al," the Hacker Anarch said.  "That's one of the reasons I called, is to drive your blood pressure up a few points.  You are Hacker Enemy Number One, after all.  But the other reason is to let you know just who Nathan Justice really is."

Brosky tilted his head, eyes narrowing.  "What?"

"That's right!  Nathan Justice isn't his real name."  Chaotis held up a disc.  "I'm transmitting the contents of this disc to the secured data-account from our previous arrangement.  You'll find everything you need to know there.  And all this information is taken from legitimate sources, and is completely untraceable to me.  So you don't have to worry about some young upstart finding out and ruining your career."

Brosky folded his arms.  "So why don't you just tell me who Nathan Justice really is?"

Chaotis did.

Senator Brosky blinked.  "He's who?"  Chaotis repeated it.  Slowly, the politician smiled.  "I see...well, this is information I can make use of."  He glanced at Chaotis.  "And what is the finder's fee for this information?"

"Let's say a cease-and-desist on your manhunt for all hostile hackers," Chaotis said.  "Your men are getting too close for comfort."

"I will halt all my investigations for six months," Brosky said.  "That should give you a head start."

"You're too kind."

"Indeed," Brosky replied. "This is the last time I'm doing business with you," he said seriously.  "After this, I'll hunt you down like the vermin you are and crush you under my wingtip."

"My, isn't that a pleasant image?" Chaotis said.  "Oh, well.  Ta-ta!  Until we meet again!"

The vidwindow closed as Brosky looked at Jamie Mac.  The Scotsman had a scowl on his face.  "Open our data-account," Brosky said, "and get that information available."  He punched his deskcomm.  "Sean!  Get in here!"  The aide walked into the room.  "Jamie's going to have a set of information for you to analyze.  Once you're finished, write a speech for me, one for a public announcement about the matter in said info, and then rally the law-enforcement agencies."  He stood up from his desk.  "We've got work to do."

Prime Guardian Maximillian Jennings looked over the latest budget report from the World Council and heaved a sigh.  More cutbacks.  He looked around his spartan office and started making a mental list of the things he could get rid of, then started making another mental list of the various aspects of the Academy he could trim to meet the budget.  "Lord knows Turbo didn't have problems like this," he muttered to himself as he set the datapad aside.

He looked up as the door to his office opened, admitting a lean human with dark hair and beady blue eyes.  Jennings stood with a smile.  "Major Jaxon," he said cheerfully, "I hope you bring me some sort of news to bring the day's monotony--"  He broke off as he saw several more lower-ranking Guardians step into the room behind him.  Their faces were set like stone, looking as if they were about to do something they didn't want to do.

Richard Jaxon had the same expression.  "I'm sorry, sir," he said in his reedy baritone.  "But I'm afraid I have to place you under arrest."

Jennings blinked.  "Wh-what?"  He glared at Maj. Jaxon.  "On what charge?"

"Aiding and abetting a wanted criminal," Jaxon replied.

"Who?"

Jaxon told him.  Jennings paled.  If they knew, then that meant...Nathan was in trouble.  The other Guardians had the exit blocked off, and it would not be good for his reputation if he tried to get away.  Sighing heavily, he held out his wrists.  One Guardian stepped forward and took Zeus off his wrist, and another clipped a pair of cuffs to the gauntlets of his uniform.  Jaxon, face still set like a rock, began to read him his rights.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you this special announcement from the World Council.  Just an hour ago, Prime Guardian Maximillian Jennings was arrested in his office at the Guardian Academy in the Supercomputer.  We have been told that a member of the Council will be making a statement explaining the situation in just a few moments, and -- it looks as if he's coming now."

Senator Albert Brosky stepped up to the lectern and cleared his throat.  Colonel James MacKenzie stood behind him, like a mountain.  Brosky looked up and at the cameras which flashed, taking pictures and transmitting the broadcast to the entire Net.  He spoke.  "Ladies and gentlemen of the press, my fellow citizens of the Metaverse, I have a very important announcement to make concerning a long-dormant investigation that has been conducted by the Guardians.

"Twelve years ago, on the 12th of July in 2487, an anti-human renegade group calling itself the Metaverse Liberation Army seized control of an office complex in the system of Scifera. During a Guardian raid on the MLA-held complex, the order was given by the Guardian in charge, one Major Nathaniel Gordon, to shoot down a transport containing over thirty hostages.  None of said hostages survived.  Shortly thereafter, Major Gordon was presumed killed in action when his own transport was shot down by MLA fire.  However, contrary evidence suggested that Major Gordon might have escaped and was at large in the Metaverse, so the case remained open.

"Earlier today, an anonymous source passed information to my office in regards to the whereabouts of Nathaniel Gordon, who is indeed alive and loose today.  It came to our attention that Prime Guardian Maximillian Jennings has been in contact with Gordon during the past three years, without informing anyone, and without arresting Gordon for his crime.  As a result, he will be held until Gordon is captured and put on trial."

An image appeared on vidwindows beside Brosky.  It showed a man with scraggly brown hair and a proud angular jaw.  It was a typical file photograph, and the face of the man stared out with glittering obsidian eyes.  The screen split, sliding the picture of Gordon aside to make room for a second picture of a much sterner and fierce-looking man with the same hair and eyes.  A scraggly Vandyke beard covered his jaw and mouth.  Brosky pointed at it.  "This is a picture of Gordon while he was in the Guardians, taken shortly before the Scifera mission when the crime was committed.  The second is a more recent picture of him, taken while he was in the Supercomputer not more than two months ago.  He should be considered extremely dangerous."  He gestured for the press to be silent.  "The Government is offering an eight million credit reward for the Guardian, law-enforcement officer, bounty hunter, or well-meaning citizen who can bring this dangerous felon to the law."

He now allowed the reporters to start clamoring and indicates one to speak.  "Senator, is it possible that Gordon is operating under an alias?"

"Yes, he is," Brosky replied.  "He is currently working under the psuedonym 'Nathan Justice.'"