“I’ll get a different one,” she said. Cao stepped in and gripped the handle she’d released. Elijah watched the adept walk away, then turned to the goblin.
Elijah did so. The Aztechnology logo was embossed on the case. He tried not to show any exasperation—he didn’t pretend to understand what Kyrie’s problem with Aztechnology was, but he also didn’t expect her to go off every time it came up. He just hoped her antipathy wouldn’t get in the way of the job.
The plane spun up its engines as soon as there was sufficient space for it to turn around and head back toward the runway. The runners blocked the windblown grit and dust, heavy with the sickly-cloying scent of jet exhaust, with their hands as the jet accelerated away from them.
And then it was quiet.
“Shithole,” Pineapple muttered.
“You’re talking about my first home, you know. And you haven’t even seen it yet,” Cao protested.
Pineapple chuckled and patted the goblin on the head like she was a child. “Shit. Hole.”
“Once the vehicle arrives,” Elijah said, “how are we getting across the border?”
“That way?” Leung asked, pointing across the flatland around the airport toward a city across the river.
“No.” Cao pointed the other direction. “That way. Across the river is Paraguay. We’re not going there, and especially not across the river.” Her voice was level, despite her tone and her junior status. “Not. Going.”
“Can’t swim?” Pineapple asked.
“You might like to swim with Awakened crocodiles, big boy,” Cao shot back, “but I prefer my bones unchewed, thanks.”
“We could get a hover,” Leung surmised. “So far the network is low, but it’s present. Not like that Dark Age we just left.”
“Christ, I hope not,” Cao blurted.
“You can’t drive a blower?” Pineapple asked.
“I can drive one just fine. But you don’t want a hover in the jungle.”
“Why not?” Elijah’s tone was interested, but interested in a way that said, “I want to know, but moreso I don’t want you two going at it just now.”
“The rainforest doesn’t like them.”
“The rainfor—”
Cao cut the troll off. “Listen, thick-skull. The rainforest is active in ways you can’t imagine. The roads between here and Metropôle are heavily patrolled and burned weekly. Sometimes more often. They don’t stay clear. And even when they do, things have a way of jumping out in front of you.”
“Guerillas?” Kyrie asked.
“Trees,” Cao said.
No one spoke for a moment.
“What?”
Cao put both her hands beneath her hood and rubbed her face. “Listen. The jungle is living, breathing, concentrated mana. It fights back. We’re not talking a meter a year. We’re talking some parts’ll grab your ass like a Detroit sexbot.” Her hands came down, fingertips flicking toward the ground. “You want your fans torn out by a stump that wasn’t there an hour ago, you take the hover. Me, I’ll rig something with big, leaf-crushing wheels.”
Pineapple laughed. Everyone else just eyed each other.
“Company coming,” Leung said a moment later. “The gate just passed a vehicle headed for this bit of tarmac.” He took his hand out of his pocket. “Time to play the jilted wage-slave.”
“Let’s see how it comes out,” Elijah said. “Mr. Johnson said he’d do the groundwork.”
Leung made a face. “But I got all dressed up.”
“God forbid he not get to show off,” Kyrie muttered. Leung just grinned and slicked his hair back. He knew his own habits well enough to laugh about them.
The vehicle that approached might have started life fifty or sixty years ago as an armored personnel carrier, but its only remaining nod to that era was the blunt, bullet-shaped prow. The gunmetal-gray steel was dented and streaked with rust, along with dust in odd-shaped patches. The driver’s compartment was sealed—had doors, anyway—and had black reflective windows, but the back had been cut away with a torch to give it a pickup-like bed. It rode on six big, solid-rubber tires. Black diesel exhaust belched as it accelerated toward them.
“Guess who’s not riding in the cab,” Cao said. Her gray-skinned chin appeared briefly as she leered up at Pineapple.
“Funny.” The massive troll inhaled sharply. It sounded like the intake of a small jet engine. “Just means I can shoot things easier.”
“I’d really prefer to get in and out without causing a ruckus,” Elijah said. He was watching the truck approach, but his voice was pitched to carry to the entire group.
“Depends on the circumstances,” Pineapple said.
“I mean it—”
“He’s right,” Kyrie put in. “It depends.” She shifted the strap of the duffel bag she’d slung behind her. “First of all, who’s driving that rig?”
“No one,” Leung said.
“How can you tell from here?” Pineapple asked.
“Because the gate signed it through as a drone.” He glanced at Kyrie and paused. “The chop on the authorization was Aztech.” Because he was watching, he saw her fingers tighten infinitesimally on the strap.
“If it drove itself here, I can drive it out,” Cao said.
“Will we all fit?” Elijah asked. “It’s a long way to Rio, and if the jungle is as dangerous as you say…” He glanced up at the troll. “I wouldn’t care to ride that far in an open-topped vehicle.”
Elijah looked at Leung, but the hacker was watching the truck.
Elijah might have seen a smirk flit across the hacker’s face, but he wasn’t sure.
The truck rumbled to a stop, bringing with it a wind full of heat and humid exhaust. Elijah frowned at the smell.
Leung started toward the right-side door of the truck, carrying only a salaryman’s briefcase.
By stacking the cases and making judicious use of the tie-downs piled haphazardly in the truck’s bed, the team managed to stack their gear into two sidewalls that offered some protection for Kyrie and Pineapple in the back, but it still gave them room to stand and shoot in all directions if necessary.
Elijah sat against the right-side door in the driver’s compartment. Leung rode half on Elijah’s seat, half on the console between the two seats. Cao sat in the driver’s seat, hood pulled forward like a cowl. She was driving with her hands, but Elijah could tell from the way her gray fingers flinched when the truck jounced that she was half dialed in. The roads in Posadas weren’t the best.
They got worse closer to the Amazonia border.
he sent to her.
“Ideas?” he said aloud.
“We’re in the queue,” Cao pointed out. “If wonder boy here can’t get us passes, this is gonna be a real short trip.”
Leung didn’t reply, but Elijah saw the ghost of a smirk again. The hacker was on the job. Maybe he’ll even get some face time. I guess we’ll see if he’s as good as he says. He’d mentioned how backward the Argentine Matrix was.
Minutes ticked by as the vehicle moved up in the queue. Elijah stared at the cars and the checkpoint, waiting for inspiration to strike. There wasn’t much time to come up with something.
Pineapple sent.
he sent back.
Without hearing the troll’s tone, Elijah couldn’t be sure if the words were resentful or teasing. He decided to take it as the latter.
> he sent.
He didn’t receive a reply that might let him know if Pineapple had taken it the right way.