When the MOD boys told Par they were the culprits, he was a bit surprised because he had always been on good terms with them. Par told them how upset Theorem had been, how she gave him an earful. Then an extraordinary thing happened. Corrupt, the toughest, baddest guy in MOD, the black kid from the roughest part of New York, the hacker who gave shit to everyone because he could, apologised to Par.
The MOD guys never apologised, even when they knew they were in the wrong. Apologies never got anyone very far on a New York City street. It was an attitude thing. `I'm sorry, man' from Corrupt was the equivalent of a normal person licking the mud from the soles of your shoes.
The new password was: M0Dm0dM0D. That's the kind of guys they were.
Par was just signing off to try out the new password when Corrupt jumped in.
`Yeah, and ah, Par, there's something you should know.'
`Yeah?' Par answered, anxious to go.
`I checked out her mail. There was some stuff in it.'
Theorem's letters? Stuff? `What kind of stuff?' he asked.
`Letters from Gandalf.'
`Yeah?'