"Tempest is a classified program managed by the Department of Defense and administered by the National Security Agency. It has been in place for years. The premise is that computers radiate information that our enemies can pick up with sophisticated equipment. Computers broadcast signals that tell what they're doing. And they do it in two ways. First they radiate like a radio station. Anyone can pick it up." This statement confirmed what Scott had been saying. "And, computers broadcast their signals down the power lines. If someone tried, they could listen to our AC lines and essentially know what was the computer was doing. Read classified information. I'm sure you see the problem." Sorenson was trying to be friendly, but he failed the geniality test. Duncan nodded in understanding. "We are concerned because the Tempest program is classified and more importantly, the Agency has been using CMR for years." "What for?" "The NSA is chartered as the ears and eyes of the intelligence community. We listen to other people for a living." "You mean you spy on computers, too? Spying on civilians? Isn't that illegal?" Tyrone remembered back when FBI and CIA abuses had totally gotten out of hand. "The courts have determined that eavesdropping in on cellular phone conversations in not an invasion of privacy. We take the same position on CMR." Sorenson wanted to close the issue quick- ly. Duncan carefully prepared his answer amidst the outrage he was feeling. He sensed an arrogant Big Brother attitude at work. He hated the 'my shit doesn't stink' attitude of the NSA. All in the name of National Security. "Until a couple of days ago I would have thought this was pure science fiction." "It isn't Mr. Duncan. Tempest is a front line of defense to protect American secrets. We need to know what else there is; what you haven't put in your reports." The NSA man pressed. Duncan looked at Bob who had long ago ceased to control the conversation. He got no signs of support. In fact, it was almost the opposite. He felt alone. He had had little contact with the Agency in his 30 years of service. And when there was contact it was relegated to briefings, policy shifts. . .pretty bureaucratic stuff. "As I said, it's all in the report. When there's more, I'll submit it." Duncan maintained his composure. "Mr. Duncan, I don't think that will do." Martin Templer spoke up again. "We have been asked to assist the NSA in the matter." "Whoah! Wait a second." Duncan's legal training had not been for naught. He knew a thing or two about Federal charters and task designations. "The NSA is just a listening post. Your guys do the international spook stuff, and we do the domestic leg work. Since when is the Fort into investigations?"