A tiny rumble at the back door announced that a pussycat was entering. Mrs. Murphy rejoined the group. A louder rumble indicated that Pewter was in tow.
“Hello, “Pewter called.
“Hello there, kitty.” Mrs. Hogendobber answered the meow. When Harry first took over Mr. Hogendobber’s job and brought the cat and dog along with her, Miranda railed against the animals. The animals slowly won her over, although if you asked Miranda how she felt about people who talk to animals, she would declare that she herself never talked to animals. The fact that Harry was a daily witness to her conversations would not have altered her declaration one whit.
“Tucker, Pewter’s here, “Mrs. Murphy said.
Tucker opened one eye then shut it again.
“Guess I won’t tell her the latest. “Pewter languidly licked a paw.
Both eyes opened and the little dog raised her pretty head. “Huh?”
“I’m not talking to you. You can’t be bothered to greet me when I come to visit.”
“Pewter, you spend half your life in here. I can’t act as though it’s the first time I’ve seen you in months, “Tucker explained.
Pewter flicked her tail, then leapt on the table. “Anything to eat?”
“Pig. “Mrs. Murphy laughed.
“What’s the worst they can say if you ask? No, that’s what, “Pewter said. “Then again, they might say yes. Mrs. Hogendobber must have something. She can’t walk into the post office empty-handed.”
The cat knew her neighbor well because Mrs. Hogendobber had whipped up a batch of glazed doughnuts. As soon as her paws hit the table, Harry reached over to cover the goodies with a napkin, but too late. Pewter had spied her quarry. She snagged a piece of doughnut, which came apart in marvelous moist freshness. The cat soared off the table and onto the floor with her prize.
“That cat will die of heart failure. Her cholesterol level must be over the moon.” Mrs. Hogendobber raised an eyebrow.
“Do cats have cholesterol?” Harry wondered out loud.
“I don’t see why not. Fat is fat___”
On that note the Reverend Herbert Jones strode through the door. “Fat? Are you making fun of me?”
“No, we’ve been talking about Pewter.”
“Relatively speaking, she’s bigger than I am,” he observed.
“But you’ve kept on your diet and you’ve been swimming. I think you’ve lost a lot of weight,” Harry complimented him.
“Really? Does it show?”
“It does. Come on back here and have some tea.” Mrs. Hogendobber invited him back, carefully covering up the doughnuts again.
The good reverend cleaned out his postbox, then swung through the Dutch counter door that divided the public lobby from the back. “This computer virus has everyone’s knickers in a twist. On the morning news out of Richmond they did a whole segment on what to expect and how to combat it.”
“Tell us.” Harry stood over the little hot plate.
“No. I want our computer to die.”
“Miranda, I don’t think your computer is in danger. This seems to be some sort of corporate sabotage.” Reverend Jones pulled up a ladderback chair. “The way I understand it, some person or persons has introduced this virus into the computer bank of a huge Virginia corporation, but no one knows which one. The diseased machine has to be a computer that interfaces with many other computers.”
“And what may I ask is interface?In your face?” Miranda’s tone dropped.
“Talk. Computers can talk to each other.” Herb leaned forward in his chair. “Thank you, honey.” He called Harry “honey” as she handed him his coffee. She never minded when it came from him. “Whoever has introduced this virus—”
Miranda interrupted again. “What do you mean, virus?”
The reverend, a genial man who loved people, paused a moment and sighed. “Because of the way in which a computer understands commands, it is possible, easy, in fact, to give one a command that scrambles or erases its memory.”
“I don’t need a virus for that,” Miranda said. “I do it every day.”
“So someone could put a command into a computer that says something like, ‘Delete every file beginning with the letterA.y” Harry joined in.
“Precisely, but just what the command is, no one knows. Imagine if this is passing throughout the state in a medical data bank. What if the command is ‘Destroy all records on anyone named John Smith.’ You can see the potential.”
“But, Herbie”—Miranda called him by his first name, as they had been friends since childhood—“why would anyone want to do such a thing?”
“Maybe to wipe out a criminal record or cancel a debt or cover up a sickness that could cost them their job. Some companies will fire employees with AIDS or cancer.”
“How can people protect themselves?” Mrs. Hogendobber began to grasp the possibilities for mischief.
“The mastermind has sent faxes to television stations saying that the virus will go into effect August first, and that it’s called the Threadneedle virus.”
“Threadneedle is such an odd name. I wonder what’s the connection?” Harry rubbed her chin.
“Oh, there will be a connection, all right. The newspeople are researching like mad on that,” he confidently predicted.
“One big puzzle.” Harry liked puzzles.
“The computer expert on the morning show said that one way to protect your information base is to tell your computer to disregard any command it is given on August first.”
“Sensible.” Miranda nodded her head.
“Except that most business is transacted by computer, so that means for one entire day all commercial, medical, even police transactions are down.”
“Oh, dear.” Miranda’s eyes grew large. “Is there nothing else that can be done?”
Herbie finished his tea, setting the mug on the table with a light tap. “This expert reviewed the defenses and encouraged people to program their computers to hold and review any commands that come in on August first. If anything is peculiar, your review program can instruct the computer to void the suspicious command. Naturally, big companies will use their own computer experts, but it sounds as though whatever they come up with will be some variant of the review process.”
“I always wanted to put VOID on my license plate,” Harry confessed.
“Now, why would you want to do a thing like that?” Mrs. Hogendobber pursed her lips, seashell pink today.
“Because every time my annual renewal payments would go through to the Department of Motor Vehicles, their computer would spit out the check. At least, that’s what I thought.”
“Our own little saboteur.”
“Miranda, I never did it. I just thought about it.”
“From little acorns mighty oaks do grow.” Mrs. Hogendobber appeared fierce. “Are you behind this?”
The three laughed.
“You know, when I was a young doctor I had a big Thoroughbred I used to hunt named On Call,” Herb reminisced. “When someone phoned my office the nurse would say, ‘Oh, I’m sorry, the doctor isn’t in right now. He’s On Call.’”
Harry and Miranda laughed all the more.
“So what’s the scoop, Pewter?“Tucker asked, then turned her attention to Mrs. Murphy. “I suppose you already know or you’d have pulled her fur out.”
With that faint hint of superiority that makes cats so maddening, the tiger twitched her whiskers forward. “We had a little chat on the back stoop.”
“Come on, tell me.”
Pewter sidled over to the dog, who was now sitting up. “Aysha Cramer refused, to Mim Sanburne’s face, to work with Kerry McCray for the homeless benefit.”
Mim Sanburne considered herself queen of Crozet. On her expansive days she extended that dominion to cover the state of Virginia.
“Big deal. “Tucker was disappointed.
“It is. No one crosses Mim. She pitched a hissy and told Aysha that the good of the community was more important than her spat with Kerry, “the rotund kitty announced.
“Oh, Aysha. “Tucker laughed. “Now Mim will give her the worst job of the benefit—addressing, sealing, and stamping the envelopes. They all have to be handwritten, you know.”