"That is my honor."

"And this castle is?"

"Camelot, of course.""Of course." What else would it be? "And what is Camelot, Good Cai?"

"Camelot is the stronghold of Arthur, my liege and the rightwise true king of all Britain. All the lands you 202.

Robert N. Charrette see about you are his realm. From here he sallies forth to fight the forces of encroaching darkness with the aid of his loyal knights. The land is all."

If this was Arthur's turf, Dodger had just taken down one of his knights. Or had he? "Do his knights wear black armor?''

"The knights wear whatever they find suitable to their own nature. They are a brave and hearty lot and serve our liege well. 'Tis they who have won him the lands from which his revenues come. Had they not done so, this castle would not be so great. Arthur iswell served."

"And where are these knights? I see none in the court."

"On quest at the moment. As always, the king's knights strive to enlarge his realm. Soon Arthur's loyal vassals shall win him more followers, the king's reti- nue shall grow, and he shall establish his rule over all the land. Then, the land shall prosper and Camelot shall come again unto the world. All of its might shall stand in service to our lord's right."

"And where is the king himself?"

"He sits at table, enjoying the royal entertain- ment."

"May I see him?"

"I regret that he sits not in open court, but you may enter the vestibule and gaze upon him, if you so wish."

"I so wish."

Cai led Dodger to the great hall. Cai was careful to remain between Dodger and the door, but Dodger could see most of the interior. It was thronged with courtiers, entertainers, and servants whose movedin a kaleidoscope of color and sound.

An elevated dais ran the width of the far end and was backed by an opulent cloth of estate. The king's throne was positioned in the center. The king stood 203.

before it, his face turned away. He was leaning on a long table that ran before the throne. Golden plates and goblets adorned the table, which was covered in brilliant white samite cloth on which had been em- broidered scenes of the hunt. The king's fidgety stance suggested that he was waiting for something. A flour- ish of trumpets pulled Dodger's attention to the other end of the hall. Obviously, a feast was in progress, for servants were carrying a great roast beast from the kitchens. They carried their burden the length of the hall to lay it before the royal presence. As it passed by, Dodger thought that there was something odd about the animal; although it looked mostly like a pig, the roasted corpse seemed to be too long in the body.

Its oddity did not bother the king. As soon as the servantsset it down he took up his knife and sliced himself a portion.

Having served himself, the king sat and Dodger was able to see his face. The decker had been expecting some idealized noble visage but instead saw a very human face. That was startling enough; Matrix im- agery was normally not configured that way. This sys- tem was really strange. A wisp of fear flitted across his mind. Was his own face on display?

The king's face was one Dodger had seen recently.

It took him a moment to remember where: this man's picture had been among those Willie had taken of the druids' acolytes. Why was he here playing the role of King Arthur? What kind of place did he have in the system? If his was some kind of position of control, what about the druids?

The king was not the only one sitting at the table.

The faces of the others were veiled in shadow, how- ever. Were this a real court, they would have had to be great lords and high vassals to sit at the king's side.

All the seated figures were as still as statues, but none of the courtiers in the hall seemed to notice. A system--------------------------------------------------------------- 204.

Robert N. Charrette operations sign? Were the shadowed constructs place- holders for other members of the cabal who were not presently active in the system?

"GoodCai."

"At your service, Sir Knight."

" Tis I who may perhaps be of service. To His Majesty, that is. But before I petition to enter his ser- vice, I would like to know my place lest I inadver- tently offend one of the nobles of the court. Pray, tell me of the great ones. Who are the greatest of His Majesty's servants?"

Cai smiled and gestured toward the hall. Soft light from an unknown overhead source illuminated the seated figure on the king's immediate right.

"Without a doubt, his enchanter stands closest to HisMajesty's ear. The wizard is the king's tutor and dear to my liege's heart. Merlin is his name. He is a mighty wiz- ard as well as a master of statecraft. 'Tis Merlin who gathered the knights of my liege's Round Table."

Dodger recognized the new face: Hyde-White the fat druid.

The light died over Merlin and the figure to the king's left was bathed in light. Cai continued. "Fore- most among the knights of the hall is Lancelot."

The seated knight bore the face of Andrew Glover.

Dodger's expression tightened but Cai apparently didn't notice his audience's reaction.

"He and the Orkney Knights are all the remain in the inner circle of knights, Arthur's closest confidants and staunchest defenders."

Lights played across faces. All were those Willie had tagged as druids. "All that remain?"

"Alas, some of Arthur's truest knights have recently fallen in battle. There is evil abroad in the land, foul foreign knights who would frustrate Arthur's dream and throw the land into turmoil. This must not be."

IBS CAREFULLY 205CHOOSE YOUR.

Cai's eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion.

"The land is all," Dodger said quickly.

Cai smiled, and Dodger relaxed. He had chosen the right password to escape the intruder detection rou- tine. For the moment, he was still safe. He didn't know for how long. The Cai program obviously had triggers near sensitive points, or a random check function on interfacing users, or both. Already Dodger had gath- ered a lot of information, even if it was couched in arcane form. Analysis would surely straighten some of it out.

What else could he do here that would not raise immediate alarms? What might a travelling knight be free to see? Not the defenses certainly, or the trea- sury.

"Cai, I have travelled a long way and seen many strange things. Have you a sage or a chronicler to whom I relate my tale?"

"Certes. Do you wish to see him?"

"Iso wish."They turned around to find a page standing in their way.

"Sir Dodger, I bear a gift from an admirer," the young boy announced in a reedy voice.

Beware of constructs bearing gifts, a wise decker had once said. What was going on now? Was this some sort of subtle attack by the ice?

"I may not accept a gift," he said, improvising. "I have made a vow.''

"You cannot refuse," Cai said. "This page is in the service of the Lady Morgan Le Fay. None may refuse her gifts."

" 'Tis true, Sir Knight," the page concurred. "Ac- cept the Lady's gift, given in all honor and courtesy, for she sends it with all good will. She knows of your recent victory and is impressed by your skill with the 206Robert N. Charrette lance. She finds you worthy of reward. Please, Sir Knight."

The page held out the packet. Wishing he could think of something else to do, Dodger took the of- fering. When it did not discorporate his construct, lock the persona into stasis, or send him into instant brain seizure, he felt relieved. He unfolded the wrap- pings to reveal a jumble of computer chips, cred- sticks, and corporate identification cards. A quick survey showed that they all had the same codes; he held in his hands the complete Matrix record of one Samuel Verner.

"What is going on?" he asked aloud.

The page answered, obliquely. "My lady wishes as well to apologize for her lack of courtesy when last you met. She thought that this offering would please you and demonstrate her good will."

"The last time we met?" Dodger felt faint, but per- sona constructs don't pass out. He didn't like the way this new twist pushed against the limits of the imposed imagery."She comes now." The page bowed and indicated an approaching figure before vanishing as if he had never existed.

The woman wore a long, flowing dress that fit snugly to her full and fetching figure. The gown was midnight itself, swallowing all light. The skin of her throat and neck was brilliantly contrasted against the fabric. It seemed to gleam. It did gleam. Her skin was not the pale tone fashionable in the court, but a faint silver.

As silver as her perfect face and delicately rounded, hairless skull.

He recognized the woman identified as Morgan and felt his loins heat up.

This is impossible!

When last they had met, she had effortlessly hi- jacked him through the Renraku Matrix and held him 207.

prisoner. He didn't know why; he didn't want to know. The thing calling itself Morgan Le Fay was neither decker nor system construct. Though he was not sure, he suspected it was something that should not exist; an artificially created machineintelligence, an AI, a real ghost in the machine. During his first encounter with it, the AI had presented itself to his perception as a female counterpart of his own per- sona construct while simultaneously displaying an entirely different image to another decker. This thing had abilities he couldn't understand. It was appar- ently sentient, but if its actions were any indication, it was slightly crazy. But crazy was defined by the human norm, and who could know what the norm was for an entity dwelling totally within the electron space of the Matrix? He had thought the AI confined to the Renraku Matrix.

He was obviously wrong.

Morgan Le Fay smiled warmly at him. He fled the only way he could be sure to evade her. He jacked out.

27.

Sam didn't like Dodger's analysis one bit, but it made sense. It matched too well against the data they had gathered while Dodger was pursuing the blind shunt that had led him to the Camelot system. It fit with the police cover-up. Most of all, it explained the strange alliance of corporate and political figureswho made up the Hidden Circle.

The druids were apparently operating in the inter- ests of Gordon, Their patron wasn't the crowned king, 208.

Robert N. Charrette but only barely. In the turmoil of political compromise and under the economic pressure of the corporations, Windsor-Gordon's faction had lost the bid for his af- firmation as the true heir to the throne. George Ed- ward Richard Windsor-Hanover, the other principal claimant, had been crowned instead.

Since his ascension to the throne, George Hanover had often favored corporate interests. No doubt, the European Corporate Community was pleased at having found the technical loophole that assured the superiority of Hanover's claim to Gordon's. But mi-nor technicalities couldn't change Gordon's blood- line. His connection to the House of Windsor made him successor to the throne should George VIII and his children die without heirs. Given Gordon's strong association with the Green Party, the ECC would find him an uncooperative king. Thus, while the ECC made sure that their boy George and his family were well protected, they would not mind seeing Gordon do something to bar himself forever from the throne.

Their attitude was not universal. Gordon's bloodline was more than enough for royalists like Burnside.

Whether they favored the current king or Gordon, the royalist factions had worked too hard in restoring the shattered monarchy. The last thing they wanted was to see their handiwork be swept away in a scandal.

They would do whatever they could to cover up Gordon's misdeeds and polish his image as a suitable member of the royal family. The inspector and his cronies would suppress Gordon's part in the killings if they could.

The whole arrangement stank. It was a stench Sam was coming to know well, the corruption of power.

Power was what it was all about. Gordon graspingfor the throne and the druids of the Hidden Circle reach- ing to further their own interests. It was just barely 209.

conceivable that they sought to install Gordon as king because they believed he was the rightful king. More likely, they wanted a puppet who owed them every- thing.

Gordon courted the druids for the power they rep- resented. No doubt, he expected to control them once he was king. No ambitious man could ignore the power a circle of druids offered. The Hidden Circle commanded considerable magical power as well as substantial mundane power through their advanta- geous placement in political and corporate struc tures. So great a concentration of influence would be hard to duplicate in such a small number of British citizens.

Sam didn't know who was using whom in this ar- rangement, and it didn't really matter to him. They were all participating in the magical sacrifices. They were all guilty.Justice seemed further and further away, as the run- ners' forces disintegrated. Two nights ago they had disrupted the druids' ritual and achieved one con- firmed kill and a second probable, but it had cost them.

Estios, Chatterjee, and O'Connor were still missing.

Dodger was fretting and had abandoned his affectation of ornate speech. He had to be pulled away from his cyberdeck to eat, and he barely stuffed down food be- fore jacking back in. Hart maintained that the raid on the warehouse had effectively scuttled the Circle's scheme. She insisted that there was no need to do any- thing else, and that it was too dangerous anyway, as the disappearance of Estios's crew showed. She re- fused to do any legwork or magical searches. If their sack time hadn't been full of heated apologies, Sam would have thought she had finally gotten bored with him and was anxious for a more attractive partner.

Only Willie seemed to be staying on track. Her pay- ments had vanished along with Estios, but she was still -----------------210.

Robert N. Charrette on the job and sending second-rate drones anywhere she thought she might pick up a lead.

The night's arguments had wearied Sam more than the long days without enough sleep. Dawn was begin- ning to lighten the sky from black to indigo. He rubbed at his eyes and felt their puffiness. Almost a new day and they hadn't heard anything yet. Maybe Hart was right.

"There it is," Willie announced.

Sam's stomach flopped.

"Hey, Hart," Willie called from her seat by the rig- ger board. "I thought you said that with the wendigo dead the Circle was out of business. Morning scream- sheet's got a Bone Boy kill. One victim. Just like we never bothered them."

"Must be a copycat," Hart said sourly."Sweet dream, elf, but no joy. It's them, or I'm an unjacked ferrophobe. Wendigo or not, they're still on course."

"We can't let this go on," Sam said.

"What are we supposed to do about it?" Hart asked.

"They know about us now. Willie can't get a drone near enough to follow even the acolytes. Dodger's off chasing who knows what. Without surprise, we won't be able to crack their security. If we try to catch them in the act again, they'll be waiting. Even if we still had Estios and his bunch, we'd only get ourselves wasted."

"We've got to do something. We can hire muscle."

"With what? We don't have the resources. Even if we had muscle, what about their magic? Those druids are pulling down some powerful mana."

"We'll get the resources," Sam insisted. "We'll find a way to cancel their magic."

"How?""That's a question I've got to ask too, Twist," Wil- lie said. "I'm not gonna quit on you, but you gotta 211.

know that we ain't gonna get much help on the street.

Burnside's been spreading the word that anybody who works with us, crosses him."

"He's just one cop."

"Maybe he's just one cop, but he's got a lot of hooks in the shadow world. Most runners still got to live in this plex with that one cop.''

Sam hung his head and massaged the back of his neck. After a few moments he let his hand drop.

"Then we'll do it ourselves. Dodger can slice loose some of the druids' own money. With enough nuyen we can refit your drones, Willie. Cog's a good con- nection; he can get us combat drones."