Chapter One Sometimes when you gamble, you lose. On the small island of Isola Santos, off the coast of Italy, a tuxedo-clad Rachid bin Amir al Hantan stood in the grass to one side of a flower-covered wedding arch, shoulder-to-shoulder with some of the most influential men in the technological world, and attempted to appear interested in the ceremony. Self-recrimination blocked his ability to share in the happiness that was apparent on the face of his old college friend, Dominic Corisi, as he exchanged vows with his bride. An ocean breeze blew through Rachid’s short black hair – highlighting his decision not to wear his traditional keffiyeh headdress. Mocking him. The undeniable truth that he was more at home in Western clothing only intensified his sour mood. I shouldn’t have come. He spared a glance at the rows of smiling faces and winced. The actual ceremony was a small affair, no more than a hundred or so in attendance, but it was a high-profile wedding and would be talked about for months. Even though the press had been banned, there was no way to keep his participation out of the news. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem, but Najriad, his home country, was verging on serious political upheaval, and his participation could easily be spun against him – presented as another example of how he didn’t care about his