Um.” Manfred finds it, floating three tiers down an elaborate object hierarchy. It’s flashing for attention. There’s a priority interrupt, an incoming lawsuit that hasn’t propagated up the inheritance tree yet. He prods at the object with a property browser. “I’m afraid I’m not a director of that company, Mr. Glashwiecz. I appear to be retained by it as a technical contractor with nonexecutive power, reporting to the president, but frankly, this is the first time I’ve ever heard of the company. However, I can tell you who’s in charge if you want.” “Yes?” The attorney sounds almost interested. Manfred figures it out; the guy’s in New Jersey. It must be about three in the morning over there. Malice—revenge for waking him up—sharpens Manfred’s voice. “The president of http://agalmic.holdings .root.184.97.AB5 is http://agalmic.holdings .root.184.97.201. The secretary is http://agalmic.holdings .root.184.D5, and the chair is http://agalmic.holdings .root.184.E8.FF. All the shares are owned by those companies in equal measure, and I can tell you that their regulations are written in Python. Have a nice day, now!”