There was sudden fear and understanding in McCaskey's eyes. "That, plus letting them know you intend to attack them. You let a black group know they're a target and that galvanizes all blacks. Christ, Mike," McCaskey said. "There's the impetus for Pure Nation to let itself get arrested. To let Chaka Zulu know that they were a target, even if they weren't. Before you know it, all blacks are behind the militant Zulu group-- and a lot of whites have no choice but to stand against them."

Rodgers nodded vigorously as the phone beeped again. He glanced at it. Ann Farris's calling code was on the LED display at the base.

"That's exactly what happened in the 1960s," McCaskey said, "when the Black Panthers became the militant allies of a number of civil rights groups."

Rodgers said, "If all of this really does fit together-- Dominique, his money, hate groups, and the destabilization of Europe and the U.S.-- we'd have one serious worldwide disaster." Rodgers put the phone on speaker. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Ann."

"Mike, Darrell told me you needed a check on press releases from Demain," she said. "I called D'Alton and D'Alton, their New York press people, and got the latest stuff faxed over."

"And?"

"It's all run-of-the-mill tub-thumping about games," Ann said, "except for one. It's about a new joystick."

"What's it say?"

"That with the new Enjoystick, you don't just play the game-- you feel it."

Rodgers sat up taller. "Go on." This was a perfect match with the hate games. He felt a chill in the small of his back.

Ann said, "It's FCC-approved and it's a new technology which stimulates nerve cells through a patented fingerprint-operated biolink. I guess that's to make sure you only use the link on your hands and not on other parts of the body. It says here that with an Enjoystick, you'll feel ail the thrills and excitement that your videogame character experiences on-screen."

Rodgers said, "Along with the hate and love and all stops in between."

"It doesn't say anything about that," Ann told him, "but I can't believe something like this exists. I feel like I'm in a science fiction movie."

"You're not," Rodgers said. "A lot of people still don't understand the power of this technology, but it's there just the same. Thanks, Ann. This was a big help."

"Any time, Mike," she said.

Rodgers hung up. Despite-- or because of? he asked himself-- the pressure of piecing together the Pure Nation puzzle, he was gratified by the short, pleasant exchange. He and Ann had never been charter members of each other's fan clubs. She made no secret of her infatuation with and unqualified defense of Paul Hood. That had often put her at odds with Rodgers, whose approach to crisis management was less diplomatic than Hood's. But Rodgers was working on that, and Ann was trying hard to accept that there was more than Hood's way of doing things.