14

THE ICEMAN COMETH

Max Vision was surprised when Chris and Mike, his two contacts from the FBI office in San Francisco, turned up at his front door in Santa Clara. He didn't recognise the third man, although later he learned that this was the FBI's computer-crime boss. But then this was not a social call. 'We're building a case on you, Max,' they said. 'You've really screwed up on this one.'

In a state of mild shock, Vision turned over his computer and every- thing else - he did not want to appear to be obstructing justice and, at the same time, he was not yet sure what the problem was.

His life was good - great, even. After putting a torrid adolescence behind him, he had moved from Iowa into a region where neither geeks nor unkempt long hair and ponytails were considered unusual or inelegant. Nor would they find it odd that he had changed his name to Vision from the more prosaic Butler. He had quickly become accus- tomed to the lotus-eating lifestyle of the West Coast and, to top it all, he was deeply in love with his intended bride, Kimi.

In his mid-twenties, Max Vision was a computer-security genius and one of the most respected and highly valued consultants in the Bay Area. He was also a civic-minded chap, who set up the website whitehats.com, which was dedicated to helping people and companies ensure themselves against malicious cyber attacks. Mr Vision would post the latest 'vulnerabilities' to which popular software was prone and explain how to patch them up.

Vulnerabilities were meat and drink to hackers, offering one of the