Still personable but subdued by the news of the attack on the film set, Lang said, "Employees work from eight to five with two half hour and one full hour breaks. We have a gymnasium and a pool in the basement, as well as small rooms with cots and showers for anyone who wants to rest or freshen up."

Stoll said, "I could just see cots and showers at the workplace in Washington. Nobody would ever get any work done."

After showing his guests around the smallish first floor, Lang took them to the more spacious second level. No sooner had they arrived than Hausen's cellular phone beeped.

"It may be news about the attack," Hansen said, walking toward a corner.

After Hausen left, Lang showed the Americans how the chips were mass-produced by quiet, automated machines. Stoll lingered behind the group, studying control panels and watching as cameras and stamping machines did work that used to be done by steady hands, soldering irons, and jigsaws. He set his backpack on a table and chatted with one of the technicians, an English-speaking woman who was using a microscope to spot-check finished chips. When Stoll asked if he could take a peek through the eyepieces, she looked at Lang, who nodded. Stoll had a quick look, and complimented the woman on her very fine-looking sound-digitizing processor chip.

After the second floor tour was finished, the group went to the elevator to wait for Hansen. He was hunched over his telephone, a finger in his ear, listening more than he was talking.

Meanwhile, Stoll peeked into his backpack. Then he scooped it up and rejoined the group. He smiled at Hood, who winked back.

"Alas," said Lang, "I won't be able to take you to the third-floor laboratories where research and development is being conducted. It's nothing personal, I assure you," he said, looking at Stoll. "But I fear our stockholders would revolt. You see, we're working on a new technology which will revolutionize the industry."

"I see," said Stoll. "And this new technology-- it wouldn't happen to have anything to do with quantum bits and the superposition principle of quantum mechanics. Would it?"

For the second time that day, Lang paled. He seemed to want to speak but couldn't.

Stoll beamed. "Remember that rotten bread slice-thrower-outer I was telling you about?"

Lang nodded, still speechless.

Stoll patted the backpack he held in his tight fist. "Well, Herr Lang, I just gave you a little taste of what it can do."

In the corner of the laboratory, the world seemed to disappear for Richard Hausen. Even as he listened to a voice from the past, a nightmarish past, he couldn't believe it was real.

"Hello, Haussier," the voice greeted him in a thick French accent. It had used the nickname Hausen had had as an economics student at the Sorbonne is Paris-- Haussier, the financial bull. Very few people knew that.

"Hello," Hausen replied warily. "Who is this?"