I nodded. That's what Scott had told me, what seemed so long ago now. "Na Kama'aina knows this?" I suggested.

"Of course they do. As I say, they're realists."

Another idea was niggling away in the back of my brain. I closed my eyes and let another healthy mouthful of Scotch encourage it to come out where I could examine it.

"If the corps were booted out," I went on tentatively, voicing the thoughts as they came to me, "there'd be a power vacuum, wouldn't there? The islands are strategically valuable-the U.S. thought so, for frag's sake. So somebody's going to move in. Japan, maybe?"

Ho was smiling. "It took my staff considerably more time to figure that out than it did you," he said quietly. "Yes, of course. Corporations out, Nihonese in. That's why I said 'Polynesia for Polynesians' will never happen. Neither me megacorporations nor the Japanese would allow it."

"Maybe that's Ryumyo's angle, then. Maybe he wants Hawai'i for Japan."

"That occurred to me, too," Ho said. "Ryumyo seems to live in Japan, however he and the Nihonese government have never been on particularly amicable terms."

"There is that," I admitted. And with that we both sank back into our private contemplations. It was funny in a way, I had to admit. Even with the drek dropping into the pot around me, it was reassuring-calming, in a way-to have someone with me who was getting ragged over by it all as royally (no pun intended) as I was. What was me old saying: "Misery loves company"? We sipped our Scotch and we stared at the carpet and we thought our bleak thoughts.

The telecom bleeped, jolting me out of my reverie. Pohaku was standing nearby, and he shot me a questioning look. At the moment I simply didn't feel like talking to anyone new… or, what I particularly feared, hearing any more bad news. For a second or two I debated just letting it ring. Bad idea, probably. Not that many people had this number (I hoped), so it was probably important. I sighed. "I'll get it," I told Pohaku, levering myself out of the upholstery and going over to the telecom.

I disabled the video pickup and accepted the call. "Yeah?"

The screen stayed blank-the caller had selected voice-only, too-but I recognized the voice immediately. "Mr. Montgomery?"

Deeper sigh. I keyed on my pickup. "It's me," I told Barnard.

The corporator's face filled the screen. Beside me, I felt Pohaku stiffen. Apparently, the bodyguard recognized Barnard as a corporate presence, and hence a potential threat… or maybe he was just professionally paranoid. "Do you have any news for me?" the suit asked. "Any developments I should know about?"

"Got an hour or two?" I asked dryly. "First thing, the throne's been usurped. Ho's out on his hoop."

"Indeed? I had heard that. Do you have confirmation?"

I smirked at that. "All the confirmation I need," I told him.

"The Ali'i… is he safe?"

"As safe as can be expected, I guess."

"And you have confirmation of that?" Barnard pressed.

"All the confirmation I need," I repeated. "He's sitting right here, swilling Scotch."

Up went the corporator's eyebrows. "Honto? Let me speak to him."

You two should have been talking to each other all along is what I didn't say. I just beckoned Ho over and gave him my chair. I stepped aside, out of the telecom's axis of view, but made sure I stayed close enough to hear what was going down.

"Aloha, Gordon," I heard Barnard say. "Pe-hia 'oe?"

"Aloha. Pona'ana'a," the ex-Ali'i responded quietly. "Et Gilles? Comment ca va?"

"Tres bien, a tout prendre," the corporator replied. "He's Commercial Services manager at Yamatetsu-U.K., making his own way up the ladder." Barnard paused. "He still speaks of his time at university with you."

Gordon Ho smiled-a little sadly, I thought. "There's something very appealing about a time when the biggest thing you have to worry about is a term paper or whether you can smuggle your girlfriend into your residence."

While those two droned on with more of that "old-home week" drek, I went back to the couch and sat down again to concentrate on my Scotch. I could still hear snippets of the conversation, but couldn't make much sense of it with Ho and Barnard apparently flipping between English, French, Hawai'ian, and Japanese as the mood took them. After a while I stopped even trying.

After maybe five minutes of multilingual chitchat. Ho turned away from the screen. "Dirk," he said, beckoning me over. I clambered to my feet and joined the ex-Ali'i before the telecom, this time bringing my drink with me in case I needed instant fortification.

"Uh-huh?" I said to Barnard.

"When we spoke before," the corporator said, "you implied that someone by the name of Harlech might have revealed your corporate connection and your involvement with Gordon."

"Quentin Harlech," I said.

Barnard frowned. "I have yet to find any information on an individual by that name. Do you know anything about him that might help?"

I thought for a moment, then shook my head. "Nothing," I replied. "I just saw him the once."

Barnard nodded. "Another possible angle," he mused after a moment's thought. "Are you aware of anyone who might have background on him?"

Well, now that he put it mat way… "Maybe you can get some scan from Chantal Monot," I suggested. Barnard shook his head, so I elaborated. "Telestrian Industries Corporation? Prez of South Pacific Operations?"

I saw the recognition dawn in his eyes. "Monot, yes." Then his frown deepened. "And how do you happen to know Mademoiselle Monot, Mr. Montgomery?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

Okay, well, I guess maybe I should have told him before now. Quickly, I recapped my experience with TTC, starting with the narcodart in the chest and finishing with my "transfer" to New Foster Tower. "Monot recognized Harlech's name," I concluded. "At least, I think she did."

Barnard sighed. "Telestrian Industries Corporation," he said quietly, a complex expression on his face.

"Why don't you ask Monot about this Harlech slot if you think it's so important?" I suggested.

The corporator chuckled softly at that. "I rather doubt she'd tell me."

"Why?" I wanted to know. "You corps are thick as thieves, aren't you?"

Barnard looked at me as he would a child too stupid to get with the toilet-training program. "Megacorporations rarely speak with one voice, Mr. Montgomery," he said coldly, unconsciously echoing Chantal Monot's comment on another topic. "We cooperate in some areas, it's true. But don't forget that, primarily, we're in competition. Do you really think that one megacorporation would fail to keep confidential something that could prove to be a competitive advantage?"

I nodded, a little chastened. Point-taken.

"It is interesting, though," Barnard continued thoughtfully after a moment. 'Telestrian's representatives to the Corporate Court was initially in accord with one of the major factions that have formed around the Hawai'i issue. Now Telestrian Industries Corporation has withdrawn all involvement… on either side of the issue. I wonder if there's some connection?"

"Hold the phone," I began.

But Gordon Ho got there before me. '"Factions'?" he asked sharply. "What 'issue'?"

Barnard smiled mirthlessly. "What issue do you think, Gordon? How best to deal with the Hawai'ian provocation, of course. There've been attacks on megacorporate assets- personnel and materiel. An outrage like that can't go unanswered, you understand that. The Corporate Court is more or less split on what the response should be."

"What are the choices?" the ex-Ali'i asked.

"Again, what do you mink? Diplomatic pressure on one hand-sanctions, embargoes, and such. More… direct… action on the other."

"Military?"

"The supporters of direct action are split on that question," Barnard allowed. "Some believe this nonsense with ALOHA has gone on long enough and should be settled once and for all. Others prefer 'executive action' against members of the government."