Looking stoic, Two Bears nodded and bowed formally, and as soon as the screen was clear, he hurriedly jotted the telecom code down in his pocket secretary. Then he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling and ruminating. Hmm, IronHell. Could be anything, the name of a ship, the tag of some street samurai, the title of a bookchip, model of a European car—hell, where to start? Hey, amigo, he told himself. The best place is always to start simple.