I shivered. It was chilling, the almost casual way Ho was talking about this. The kind of rituals he was describing were "blood-magic." I'd read somewhere that the "cost" of the Great Ghost Dance was measured in dozens, maybe hundreds, of shamans who'd given their lives to power it. The same in Hawai'i, apparently: "True believers" had effectively suicided to give the islands their independence.

"Where did this happen?" I asked. "Puowaina?"

'The Hill of Sacrifice?" Ho's eyebrow quirked. "It would have been appropriate, wouldn't it? But no, the volcanic crater of Haleakala was chosen because it had a higher magical background count, which made the ritual easier."

Something else went click in the back of my mind. It was like I'd been struggling vainly with a jigsaw puzzle for the last couple of days, and suddenly somebody had started handing me the pieces I needed, one by one. "It's still going on, isn't it?"

"The Dance?" Ho shook his head. "No," he said firmly. Then, "Not as such."

I looked into his eyes and saw him trying to decide what to tell me and what to keep hidden. "Spill it, e ku'u lani," I said again.

He hesitated for a long moment, then I saw him come to his decision. "The Dance ended with Secession," he said firmly, "but there were some interesting consequences. For some reason, the background count in the Haleakala crater was higher after the Dance than it was before. Considerably higher, in fact. We wanted to know why, of course. And we also wanted to learn how to use the additional power. My father established a research station on the crater rim. He code-named the program Sunfire. A staff of kahunas were assigned to Project Sunfire to figure out what had happened to the background count…"

"And how to use it," I completed.

Ho nodded uncomfortably. "Yes," he acknowledged. "Initially. When I took the throne, though, I decided to back off from that side of things."

"Why, for frag's sake?" I wanted to know.

The ex-Ali'i looked even more uncomfortable. "She convinced me," he said, inclining his head toward Akaku'akanene who was in full lotus again, staring into space and listening to geese.

"Her?"

"She virtually raised me. Dirk," he said, almost apologetically. "Of course I listened to her when she warned me about something."

"Why?" I pressed again. "What was the fragging problem?"

He glanced away, apparently unable to meet my gaze. "She didn't know," he admitted, "not really. She just had a feeling. A premonition, you might call it." He shrugged once more. 'That was good enough for me, Dirk," he said earnestly. "I knew her, you see. I knew what her premonitions were like. If she sensed that something was dangerous… well, that was good enough for me," he repeated.

Another faint click. "That changed, didn't it?"

"Against my wishes, yes," Ho acknowledged. "Six years ago, the Na Kama'aina faction in the legislature finally accrued enough influence to basically take over Project Sunfire. They switched the emphasis of the research from simple understanding back to exploitation. They thought the kingdom might someday need the power that Haleakala represented.

"Maybe they were right," he added with a wry glance out of the window at the flying circus of "choppers over the city.

And then came the last mental click. Suddenly I felt really cold, as though somebody had hooked the room's ventilation up to an industrial freezer. "That's the big stick, isn't it?" Ho blinked in confusion, so I elaborated. "That's Na Kama'ai-na's counterthreat to use against the corps. They want to draw power from Haleakala."

"Of course," he said simply.

Oh, drek… That had to be what bug-boy was talking about, didn't it?

The horrible realization must have shown on my face, because Ho asked, "What's the matter, Dirk?"

"We've got to stop Project Sunfire, e ku'u lani," I told him. "We've got to stop it right fragging now."

23

Gordon Ho blinked. Behind him, I saw Pohaku glaring at me.

"Stop it?" Ho echoed. "Stop Project Sunfire? Why? I admit, I did consider it dangerous. But there's danger and then there's danger, if you take my meaning." He gestured out the window toward the corp gunships hanging against the sky.

I sighed. "Maybe I should have told you about this earlier," I said, then summarized, as succinctly as I could, what bug-boy had told me.

Ho held his peace throughout my spiel, not even asking any questions. He understood what I was telling him, though, I could see that in the way his eyes narrowed and his face hardened. Finally, after maybe five minutes of talking, I concluded, "The way I scan it, your Project Sunfire kahunas are going to get a frag of a lot more than they bargained for."

The erstwhile King Kamehameha V nodded thoughtfully. "If you believe an Insect shaman is telling you the truth," he said slowly.

I shrugged uncomfortably. That was the fragging point, wasn't it? Did I believe bug-boy? "It's not like I've really got much choice."

Ho glanced away, as if not wanting to meet my gaze. I knew what was coming. "I understand. Dirk," he said qui¬etly. "I do. But…"

"She's not your sister," I said, my voice cold and bleak in my own ears.

The ex-king shrugged. "I understand your concern," he went on, still not meeting my gaze. "But I have to consider more than just one person. The entire nation-"

"Will get drek-kicked by these 'entities'," I broke in sharply. "If bug-boy's telling the truth. Hell, maybe he's lying through his fragging teeth. But I don't know, and neither do you." I leaned forward intently. "You're right, you've got to think about your people-all your people. Are you willing to put them at this kind of risk?"

Ho fixed me with his gaze then, and again I felt the immense force of will, of personality, I'd experienced when I'd first met him in me Iolani Palace throne room. "You make a good case, Dirk," he said calmly. "But am I willing to put them at risk from the corporations? I know that risk exists. What you're talking about-"

"It's not immediate, that's true," I said. "Frag, it might not even be real. But there's a big fragging difference, e ku'u lani. You can negotiate with megacorporations…"

Ho had to smile. "… And not with malignant 'entities.' Granted." He sighed. "If anyone ever tells you they'd like to be a head of state…"

"I'll tell them they don't know what the frag they're talking about," I finished. I paused. "So what's it going to be, e ku'u laniV My chest was tight, as if a cold fist were reaching down my throat and trying to turn my lungs inside out. I was afraid I knew which way he was going to jump. Frag, it was the way I'd probably decide if I were in his position. Which threat would any reasonable person consider the most important? One that anyone with a pair of eyes could recognize? Or one based entirely on the testimony of a soul-sucking Insect shaman?

Yes, I thought I knew how Gordon Ho would have to decide. And then what the frag would I do?

I jumped fragging near out of my chair as another voice broke into my thoughts. "The Insect kahuna was telling the truth."

Like two puppets on the same strings. Ho and I pivoted our heads to stare at Akaku'akanene. The bird-boned woman was still sitting in full lotus, staring off into space. For all the reaction she'd shown-or showed now, for that matter-I'd have sworn she was so wrapped up in speaking to geese that she hadn't heard a word we said.

Gordon Ho leaned forward, his gaze drilling into her. "Say that again," he instructed. His voice was soft, but it was an order nonetheless.

Finally, Akaku'akanene focused her eyes and turned to look at her sovereign. "The Insect kahuna was telling the truth," she repeated calmly. 'To me best of his understanding."