Within an hour of the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington, the telephones started ringing at Garrett Metal Detectors in Garland, Texas-and the calls didn't stop. "It wasn't people just inquiring about our product," says Jim Dobrei, vice president of sales and marketing. "We were hit with actual orders. They were just pouring in."

Filling them is the hard part. The hottest item at the metal-detector maker is the hand-held wand familiar to most air travelers. But having to come up with 750 of the devices almost overnight meant tripling production and putting other orders on hold. For firms such as Garrett, easy money will be made off the surge of demand for anything that protects lives or businesses-at least for a while. But even enterprises destined for a windfall could end up facing what Yogi Berra called an "insurmountable opportunity." Quick profits usually come at a price-and the peak in business, while huge for weeks or even months, may not sustain some firms' expansions when demand ebbs.

High stakes. Not that some of them mind. Gold-rush fever has touched an unlikely range of businesses-from manufacturers of private jets (avoid the airlines) to bunker builders (it's safe underground) to makers of duct tape (seal the room, keep the chemicals out)-that will be perfectly content to profit until the panic subsides. But for others, such as communications technology, biotechnology, and security firms, the stakes are much higher, as they seek to become players in what they hope will become a new antiterror industry. Biotech firm EluSys Therapeutics, for instance, is suddenly a hot property in the eyes of politicians and the Pentagon because it's working on a way to purge the body of the deadly toxin produced by anthrax bacteria. Polycom, which makes videoconferencing equipment, reported a doubling of inquiries after September 11; shaken business travelers are suddenly interested in meeting over the air, not flying through it. Inquiries have leveled off recently but are still 50 percent higher than before the crisis.

So companies are racing to ramp up to meet the new demand-though many won't ever be able to sprint fast enough. To deliver all the must-have, $4,500 walkthrough metal detectors, Garrett Metal Detectors recalled some units it had already shipped to Salt Lake City for the Winter Olympics. Bohlmann Inc. in Denison, Iowa, has received orders for 300 barriers (disguised as planters) since September 11-twice the normal sales for the period. "We've got night shifts going to meet the demand," says sales manager Chad Langenfeld. Still, if you picked up the phone right now and ordered a baker's dozen of the $600, 1-ton barriers, it would take two to three months to get delivery. The security firm Wackenhut has hired more than 1,300 uniformed security guards to watch corporate headquarters, government installations, and nuclear power plants. "There is a pool of only so many qualified people for those positions," says chief operating officer Alan Bernstein. "We are not just going to take on any client and expand our business too quickly."

The hurry-up-and-wait frenzy has some executives wondering whether by the time they scramble to fill orders, the interest in their stuff will have faded. True, the attacks may have a greater impact on the videoconferencing industry than did the Gulf War, which also spurred interest, says Scott Sutherland, research analyst at brokerage firm Wedbush Morgan Securities. But it may not be the catalyst that transforms the service into a mainstream, blockbuster industry. "Videoconferencing and audioconferencing services have seen a spike in demand, but we expect it to level off," says Sutherland. He's not the only one who's seen it all before:
Bernstein recalls that both during the Gulf War and after the 1993 World Trade Center bombing, security buying soared, but only briefly. "Unless another tragic incident happens, business may return to former levels."

Much new business will be sustained, however, since some companies getting tech gear from Polycom or guards from Wackenhut aren't buying in a panic-or at least not entirely. "Organizations that were methodically evaluating and planning-especially those in the financial services and New York metro areas-suddenly put the evaluation on the front burner," says Peggy Weigle, the CEO of the Web security firm Sanctum, which is based in Santa Clara, Calif. "We're seeing more organizations adding Web security as a line item in their budget for 2002." If she is right, then what happened on September 11 is forcing companies to quit hesitating-the corporate equivalent of succumbing to the inevitable need to buy life insurance. "[The attacks] proved that the unthinkable could happen," says Paul Sallaberry, an executive vice president of storage software firm Veritas, which duplicates a company's digital data on tape, ensuring that a physical disaster at headquarters won't obliterate the firm's information history. Typical attendance at a Veritas information session before September 11 was about 50 possible customers; a Manhattan session last month drew some 400.

Mixed blessing. There are businesses that might be better off without the new suitors. The federal government will almost surely spend billions of dollars to develop and stockpile new treatments and vaccines to combat bioterrorism, but some biotech firms are ambivalent about Washington's sudden enthusiasm for their wares. Many already had strong prospects in their traditional commercial markets, developing treatments for naturally occurring diseases. A Pentagon contract might prove less profitable. And the government hasn't always been a reliable customer: As the only buyer for the vaccine used to protect recruits in boot camp from respiratory infections, the Pentagon starved the single firm that supplied the drug, forcing it to stop making the vaccine. (The Pentagon later found a new supplier at a higher price.)

Particularly for smaller biotech companies, the trick will be to handle the new demands of working for the military without losing momentum on their original business plans. Stephen Sudovar, president of EluSys Therapeutics, says venture capitalists who invested $30 million in his firm are open to military contracts-so long as the company doesn't become too dependent on them. On the other hand, there may also be unforeseen opportunities in the current craze, particularly among tech and biotech firms. Advances made on military projects may transfer to commercial projects, as they did years ago for the semiconductor industry. For instance, Nanogen hopes that its work miniaturizing a portable pathogen-detection device will help it develop similar machines that doctors can use to diagnose diseases right in their offices.

But many companies are repackaging their products for the disaster market. After performing anthrax cleanup for CBS and NBC, the environmental services company Versar now bills itself as a homeland-defense specialist. "We think this will be a continuing business stream," says William Geary, the general counsel for Clean Harbors Environmental Services. Likewise, PacketVideo, which works with Japanese wireless carriers to provide entertainment over cellphones, hopes to sell the Pentagon on the idea that troops outfitted with hand-held cameras could zap real-time footage to field commanders and generals back home.

Of course, many businesses thriving since September 11 are the same ones-Wal-Mart or Dell Computers, even Krispy Kreme doughnuts-that thrived before. Perhaps Americans are steeling themselves against an uncertain future with crullers or cream-filled doughnuts, and that is why earnings at the sweets purveyor were up 63 percent last quarter. Or perhaps, unlike many firms looking for fast dividends from the disaster, Krispy Kreme didn't try to angle-shoot the tragedy. It hasn't changed its approach to business-which may well have something to do with its success.