re good friends and just as
upset as me over the SmurFF fiasco. Well, we have begun something that
will have an effect for some time to come."....

"Me? I'm tickled pink to have had a part in an endeavor which, in the
Baconian sense, allows, '....a kind of wild justice' to prevail....

"Well, yes, I am still angry at the way Dan Field acted when the
students came to him on your behalf, Diana. This guy claimed to be so
strong for human rights, claimed to represent the blacks and other
down-trodden and he crapped out. No doubt about it, he had the
position and the clout to have stopped this thing in its tracks. He
was the administrations's visible token black.

"And that brother in the EEOC. Surely, as head honcho, he should have
checked the facts before blindly bowing to political pressure....

"Well yes, thank you. I, Igor have made up for both of those Oreos. I
have made Afro-Americanism stand for something positive at Belmont."

Smiling now, he reviewed with her the culmination of the combined
efforts of those two women upstairs, Diana and himself.

Pooling their knowledge of computers, they had formulated and
introduced a harmless virus into the library computer which had already
spread throughout this library and beyond. And it would continue to
spread. The contents of his scrapbook, along with all the originals
of the documents Diana could produce, had been incorporated into the
viral computer program so that whenever anyone queried information on
any relevant topic, the SmurFF Affair at Belmont would be targeted.
The true facts of the good ol' boy conspiracy against Diana Trenchant
could no longer be hidden by the administration.

Any interested person would be able to access all of the letters and
documents relating to it. The entire transcript, attorney briefs,
Attorney General's LOD and all the shady meetings and despicable
planning engaged in by the power structure of Belmont University would
be instantly available in menu form on their computer screen. The
virus would see to that and good old human curiosity would do the rest.

Still smiling, Igor said, "So long and take care. I'll talk to you
tomorrow."

Picking up his jacket, he turned off the lights. Another day--well, it
would seem good to get home.

Upstairs, as he passed between the desks of Roz and Andrea, the women
who had made such fantastic use of the contents of his scrapbook, he
paused. Holding up both arms, palms flat o