Okay, I could see that. I didn't like it-I ground my teeth, I disliked it so intensely-but I could see it I tried one last counterbattery shot. "But he's the fragging king, isn't he? He can do what the frag he wants."

"He is the king," Barnard agreed, "but of a constitutional monarchy, with an elected legislature."

I had to cede him the point. Anyone who's been to school knows what happens to a constitutional monarchy when the electorate gets fed up with it. Just ask the Windsors, erstwhile Royal Family of the United Kingdom. Barnard had won one battle, but I wasn't about to pack it in on the whole war. "So send him a message," I tried again.

He laughed. "Do you really think that anyone's electronic communications, even a king's, are immune from interception? There is a possibility-no, a certainty-that the Na Kama'aina faction of the government monitors and records all of the Ali'i's communications. How would a supposedly secret message from a megacorporate executive be any different from a private visit?

"No, Mr. Montgomery, once again, I need the message to be delivered, face-to-face, via a deniable asset."

What the frag was it about me? Did I have a slogan blazoned across my forehead-"Hi! I'm a deniable asset. Frag me over"-that only corporate suits could read? "If I did this-I'm not saying I will, but how the frag would I go about it?" I demanded. "Just stroll on up to the palace and say, 'Got a secret message for King Kam. Oh, and don't tell anyone.' Yeah, right. I need some kind of 'in'."

"I can't give you one," Barnard replied at once. "For the reasons I already mentioned, plus others." He smiled, knowing he'd won. "Someone with your talents should have little difficulty arranging a private audience."

Yeah, right. "You're telling me you can't do anything to help me."

"Nothing you should depend on to the exclusion of other options," he corrected smoothly. 'Through various other assets, I am sending word to the Ali'i that he might expect a visit from one Dirk Montgomery, and that he would find value in what you have to say." He shrugged-a little apologetically, I thought. "For obvious reasons, I can't make those messages too… noticeable, if you understand. They may pave your way, however."

"So that's it? You want me to go see the fragging king, and tell him, 'Hey, Brah, Yamatetsu didn't cack the yak, cross my heart and hope to croak?' "

"Stripped of the sarcasm… yes."

I shook my head. Better and better, oh boy. "I'll think about it."

"Don't think too long," he warned me quietly. "There are various factions who wish to see you dead. The yakuza, of course, and the real killers of Tokudaiji-san."

"Who are…?"

Barnard blinked. "ALOHA. I would have thought that was obvious. They would like to see you unable to testify that it was not a corporate-sanctioned assassination."

I hadn't thought that one through all the way, but frag it, it made an ugly kind of sense.

"Think fast," the corporator stressed again, "and act. There is no need to contact me again on this matter. Either I will hear of your success through other channels, or word will reach me of your unfortunate death."

"You've got a nice way with words, anyone ever tell you that?" I ground my teeth again, so hard I expected enamel to flake off.

"Do you have any questions, Mr. Montgomery?"

I considered a smart-ass answer, but decided against it "Just one," I said after a moment. "Off point, I suppose, but I'm curious. You said Sharon Young was doing some work for you in Cheyenne, and it was connected to this cluster-frag. How?"

He smiled faintly. "I wondered if you would get around to asking that. The individual I asked Ms. Young to trace- Jonathan Bridge, if you recall-has connections with the islands. In fact, under the name 'Kane' "-he pronounced it CAH-nay-"he is one of the major human and metahuman leaders of ALOHA."

My turn to blink in surprise. "Hold the phone," I said. "'One of the major human and metahuman leaders'? What the frag does that mean?"

"The true leader of ALOHA is actually a feathered serpent," he told me. "A vassal of the Great Dragon Ryumyo, if my intelligence is correct."

"So the group that wants to give you grief is run by a fragging dragon!" I shook my head. "Remind me not to hang out in your backyard anymore, Barnard. I don't like your playmates."

The suit chuckled once more. Then his face grew deadly serious, and something cold and nasty twisted in my gut. 'There's one more thing I should tell you, Mr. Montgomery," he said quietly. 'There is even more to this matter than you understand… or to be honest, than I understand. It would seem that some… previous acquaintances of yours have some involvement."

"What the frag does that mean?"

"I take it this is not a secure line." He didn't phrase it as a question. "Then all I can tell you is that Adrian Skyhill would appear to have some interest in the outcome.

"Good day, Mr. Montgomery." And the screen went blank.

Barnard couldn't have meant that.

Could he? I sat on my doss's Torquemada bed and I stared at the wall.

He couldn't have meant it…

Why the frag did he say it, then? There was only one way I could possibly interpret his words, and, by frag, Barnard must have known that. Adrian Skyhill…

Memories bubbled back up-the terror and pain and death and chaos under Fort Lewis four years ago. Fragments of The Dream. Oh, fragging Jesus.

Insect spirits. What the frag else could he have meant? Dr. Adrian Skyhill-erstwhile managing director of Yamatetsu's Integrated Systems Products facility in Fort Lewis-had been a shaman. An Insect shaman. He, or someone like him, had summoned the Queen of the Wasp spirits. The same Queen that had killed Toshi and Hawk and Rodney and many others. The same Queen that had burned off my left arm. The same Queen that had run the… the hive, I suppose is the right word, that had tried to assimilate my sister, Theresa. Oh fragging Christ on a crutch. How the frag were insect spirits involved in this?

Fragging hell, didn't the bugs have other things to worry about at the moment? The pogroms. The "cleansing" of the Universal Brotherhood across North America. And-for Christ's sake-the fragging bugs taking over Chicago…

My sole encounter with insect spirits had left me maimed; I'd only survived because others had given their lives to destroy the Queen. With a supreme effort I bit back on the fear, forced it down. Barnard's words were something to remember, his warning something to take to heart…

But in the future. For the moment there weren't any insect spirits or Insect shamans around (were there?). I was still up to my nostrils in drek, but-at this precise moment-the putative involvement of insect spirits didn't make the drek any deeper. I fell back on the bed, shifted my sightless stare from wall to ceiling.

So fragging Barnard wanted me to get in touch with the fragging Ali'i, did he? How in frag was I going to do that? For all the ego-stroking Barnard had given me, I had the nasty, twisty feeling mat he had more confidence in my abilities than I did at the moment. I could hope that his estimate was more accurate than mine, but that didn't help my lousy self-esteem one iota.

How was I going to contact King Kamehameha V… without getting geeked in the process? I needed resources. Maybe Kat and those other shadowrunners…

That thought fired off all kinds of subtle warning bells in my gut. I paused and mentally worked it through. Just what was it that was bothering me so much? Something Barnard had said, partially, but there were other elements to it as well. I replayed the telecom conversation in my mind.

It was Barnard's comments on ALOHA mat were bothering me, I figured that one out at once. Why? He'd said one of the sub-bosses of ALOHA was Kane, aka Jonathan Bridge. The real head honcho was a feathered serpent, who might or might not be a vassal of the Great Dragon Ryumyo.