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A slack-jawed fellow with Scandinavia in his eyes.
    Jara walked to the stiff-backed chair opposite his desk and found
herself ankle-deep in snow. The walls of the cubicle had disappearedalong with the rest of the Meme Cooperative building-replaced by a
frozen tundra. SeeNaRee, Jara thought with distaste. She could practically hear the familiar SeeNaRee slogan she had seen on a thousand
viewscreens: If you can't go to the places you love, why not bring them to you?
At least it was good programming; her toes were already starting to
freeze.
    "I am required by the charter of the Meme Cooperative to inform
you this is an anonymous conversation," began the official in a tired
voice. "To ensure your confidentiality, neither I nor any of my col leagues can see you or otherwise identify you, your gender, or any of
your distinguishing characteristics without your express permission,
except to confirm your presence on the multi network. A sealed
recording of this conversation will be stored in our archives for a period
of no less than ..." The nondescript official droned on for another
minute as he gazed myopically in the direction of his visitor's chair.

    "I'm here to report a crime in my fiefcorp," said Jara when she was
finally given the chance to speak.
    "The nature of the crime?"
    "Inciting rumors with the intent to mislead."
    The Meme Cooperative official gave her a patronizing nod. "That
may or may not be an actual crime," he said nonchalantly, drawing circles in the desk condensation with his index finger. "Do these rumors
concern a business rival?"
    "Well, not exactly, they're more just-general rumors...."
    "About your industry?"
    "You mean, are they about bio/logics? In a roundabout way, I suppose."
    With smooth strokes, the man connected two of the circles on his
desk, forming the mathematical symbol for infinity. "Do you have any
evidence of these alleged rumors that can be presented before an arbitration board?"
    I knew this was a mistake, thought Jara bitterly. I haven't been here for
five minutes, and we're already talking about "alleged" rumors. The Meme
Cooperative official was obviously more interested in enjoying his
SeeNaRee than in listening to the grievances of some ghostly, genderless voice from the outside world. "Listen to me!" she grunted. "Something terrible is going to happen, and someone's got to stop it. It's a
matter of public safety!"
    Again the placating smile. "This really sounds like it's outside our
jurisdiction. Perhaps you might try contacting your L-PRACG. Or
maybe the Defense and Wellness Council would be willing to take a statement. There's also the Fair Business Working Group of the Prime
Committee. Have you tried them? Or the Creeds Coalition's Council
on Ethical Fiefcorp Behavior ..."

    Jara shook her head. This was pointless. Even if she did manage to
ram a complaint through the thick skull of this bureaucrat, it would
get lost in the administrative morass. She pictured a colossal Rube
Goldberg machine two hundred meters high, her complaint a pea bobbing back and forth on some remote conveyor belt hidden deep in the
works. What else can you expect when you trust an industry to police itself?
thought Jara bitterly. But the system had lined too many pockets over
the years; no one else wanted the responsibility.
    The analyst cut her multi connection without a word. The familiar
walls of her London apartment appeared once more. Let the bureaucrat
prattle on in his little winter retreat and make excuses for the Cooperative's inaction. Jara couldn't take another minute of it.
    She flopped down on her couch and called up the holographic
rumor flowchart. Another towering structure that obscured her very
existence, only this one she had built herself. Jara rubbed her temples
and prepared to send a Confidential Whisper request to the first name
on her list.

    Horvil whined and pulled his head out of the burrow of pillows he had
created in his sleep. His internal