Upper Montclair, New Jersey, Wednesday…

Kalidas burst through her front door, fuming. She was so angry, she forgot to close the door. She went immediately to her study and sat down at the computer.

"Compose mail," she said simply.

The e-mail window came on the screen, the 'To:' flashing impatiently.

"Phillip White." The computer searched her address book and came up with the correct address. "Message: You will recall that we met last March at your wife's birthday party. You said if I ever needed a good lawyer to let you know. I must confess that I usually stay away from lawyers nearly as much as I avoid doctors, although now I do need a lawyer."

It took her only a few minutes to dictate the e-mail to Phillip White, a lawyer who had gained some media fame for winning big pension and age discrimination cases. Just sending it calmed her down enough to realize that it was probably a waste of time.

So she checked her journal submission. The note the editors had electronically attached to the preprint file left her dumbfounded. They had rejected the submission by order from the DHS. Holy shit, what's going on? Are the fucking feds next going to strip me of my citizenship and send me back to Athens? Then came the surprise return e-mail from Phillip.

"My dear Kalidas, I'm so sorry, but the Department of Homeland Security has contacted me. I've been threatened with the loss of my federal license to practice law if I take your case. My only suggestion is to contact your senator or representative. Regards, Phillip."