“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.
<What’s her deal?>
<Look down.>
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.”
<I’d guess we three will fit in the cab.> Elijah looked at Leung, but the hacker was watching the truck.
<And you just decided you get a front seat?>
<Pineapple won’t fit.> Elijah might have seen a smirk flit across the hacker’s face, but he wasn’t sure. <And surely Kyrie will want to shoot something along the way.>
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. <Makes sense. Besides, I do my best work sitting down.>
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.
<You’ve been here before,> he sent to her. <What do you think?>
<I’ve been to Manaus. Not Posadas.>
<Amazonia. I should have said, you’ve been to Amazonia before.>
<Not close to the border. I didn’t get out of Metropôle much.>
“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.
<We have a plan?> Pineapple sent.
<Working on it,> he sent back.
<I’m not the bait this time, am I?>
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.
<Only if you want to be,> he sent.
He didn’t receive a reply that might let him know if Pineapple had taken it the right way.
<Time to cut back on messages,> Leung sent. <Don’t want their spiders to notice excess traffic here.> Leung’s text was bright and slugged to everyone’s overlay.
“Progress?” Elijah asked.
<Doesn’t look good.>
“You said not to ping.”
<I know. You stop, leaves space for me.>
“Do we need to back off?”
“We can’t,” Cao said. “We’re in the queue. If we break out now, we’ll have the sec guards coming after us.”
“What about overland?”
“Drones and wards.”
“Leung?”
<I can get the drones. Wards are your department.>
Elijah had already peeked at the magical wards along the border. There was a fair army of spirits parked on the astral along the border, and he’d seen telltale signs for any number of magical booby traps. A magical minefield, he’d thought at the time.
<Get the drones,> Kyrie sent.
“What?”
There was a clatter along the roof over Elijah’s head, and then an insistent tapping on his window. He dialed it down and found Kyrie hanging beside it. Her hair had come loose and was dangling toward the ground. Elijah craned his neck. “How…?”
“Pineapple.” She jerked her chin up—down, whatever—toward the truck bed. The troll held her by her leg and belt, dangling the adept alongside the truck like a slung piece of luggage. “Get the drones. Have them attack the convoy behind us. When we’re the second car in the queue.”
“They’ll just lock—”
“Not when Pineapple starts blowing them away, and Leung takes the gate controls, and I do my best oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-die scream.”
Elijah regarded her. “Your what?”
“I’m louder than you. Higher-pitched and piercing, too.”
“I can scream, too,” Cao muttered.
“I can sound scared,” Kyrie said. She frowned at Elijah’s raised eyebrow. “I can.” She looked at Cao. “You just get us across.”
“They’re going to open the gate because we start shooting?”
“No. They’re going to open the gate because the cars behind us are going to start exploding.”
“What?” Elijah’s mouth was dry. “The people—”
“—take their chances.”
“We can’t just kill them.”
“Good to know you still have qualms. So get them out.”
“You’re talking summoning, casting—I’ll light up the astral.”
“You’ll look like you’re trying to save people. Which you will, in fact, be doing.”
Elijah shook his head, but that somehow did not shake loose a better plan.
“In a bit, I’ll go for a walk,” Kyrie said. “Cao’s got some fruit back here. I’ll trade it for some stuff. And if I happen to leave a little extra behind, well, it’ll make a nice distraction if we need it.”
Elijah had a whole host of objections coming to mind. But the only one he voiced was tactical. “And the Amazonia side?”
<Got that covered.> Leung stirred and opened his eyes. “Entrance requirements, assuming they even stop us fleeing from a firefight, are met. We just need to get through the Argentine side.” He shrugged. “This should work.”
“We’re moving,” Cao said. The truck inched a few centimeters forward as the vehicle in front of them, a commuter bus with four colors of chickens cooped on top, flashed its taillights as it changed gears.
Kyrie disappeared from Elijah’s window, and he cycled it closed. “You ready?” he asked Leung.
“As far as the Argentine drones are concerned, that van behind us is full of—” he frowned. “Well, it’s full of whatever they want it to be. I didn’t bother to look.”
Elijah closed his eyes. He needed to be ready to summon, and summon fast. And hope the spirits on guard didn’t swarm him as soon as he did.
“Do it,” he murmured.
Cao touched the accelerator. Leung grinned.
Kyrie palmed a half-dozen pocket charges from a case Pineapple held open and slid them into her pockets. She was wearing black leather boots with black denim jeans tucked into the knee-high tops. A rose-colored half-blanket wrap concealed the body armor plates in her vest and the holster of her Ingram beneath her left armpit. Pineapple offered her a knife. She shook her head.
“Got six already,” she said.
The troll smiled.
“Hola,” she said to a thirtyish woman sitting on the front panel of a dilapidated panel van. The woman was leaning forward, grey-streaked black hair obscuring her face, while she played with a mangy chow dog. The dog yipped and licked at Kyrie’s hand when she held it out.
“This isn’t Mexico,” the woman said. “We speak Portuguese here.”
“And English, evidently.”
“Your accent is horrible in Spanish.”
“Ah.” Kyrie smiled and straightened from where she had been playing with the dog. In the jungle across the way a large cat yowled. The dog’s ears flattened against its skull, and it pattered back beneath the woman’s knees, under the truck bumper.
“Do you like oranges?” Kyrie held the bag open so the woman could look. The look was short; the snort was not.
“Not that crap they sell tourists in Posadas,” she said.
Kyrie smiled her smarmiest smile and slipped the sack close. Then she wiped her hand across her jeans, just near her pocket, and bent down to offer her other hand to the dog. It sniffed her fingers and offered a single furtive lick. She gripped the underside of the bumper to lift herself back up.
“Perhaps someone else is less discerning.” She dipped her head and stepped back.
“There may be someone stupider than you in the queue, yes,” the woman agreed. Kyrie held her smile by sheer force of will and stepped around the van.
She’s first, Kyrie thought.
Kyrie returned a half-hour later, carrying fewer half-rotten oranges and with emptier pockets. She raised her hands for Pineapple to lift her into the truck bed, and the entire truck shifted on its torsion bars as he stepped across the bed. Elijah considered watching from the astral, but decided against it. He opened his eyes.
The border, as far as the eye could see in either direction, was a double row of razor-wire-topped fence. A narrow strip of cleared land in between showed recent signs of being chewed up—cracked stumps surrounded by the boughs of fresh growth. Cao said they used both magic and chemicals to burn the jungle down.
Truly, it fought back quickly.
Away from the fences for at least one hundred meters was a more or less cleared zone where the biodrones hunted, alongside armored vehicles and the odd, shifting patterns of spirits that only Elijah could see. It was like that on both sides of the border, and he knew from experience at more border crossings in more countries than he could name that there’d be bored human and metahuman guards nearby, anxious to get out and shoot at faulty alarms just for the practice.
“I think it’s time,” Leung said.
“I don—”
<He’s right.>
Elijah bit his lip. Then he nodded.
Leung grinned. <Should I…?>
It happened in seconds. Elijah had already been working to mask his aura so what he was doing wouldn’t set off the spirits keeping an eye on things. Then he cast two quick spells. One conjured an invisible hand that opened the woman’s truck door; the other lifted her off her seat and moved her out of the vehicle. He rushed it, casting two spells in the time it would normally take to cast one, knowing it would leave him drained, but also knowing the woman’s life depended on it.
As the woman was carried out, the truck exploded. The concussion rocked it on i
ts axles. If it worked right, the woman should look like she was blown clear of the explosion—blown clear and miraculously unharmed.
“We’re next,” Cao said.
The truck in front of them lurched into motion—it had been halfway through the gate when the explosion sounded. Cao stayed close to its bumper until the guardrail came down and blocked the blunt prow of their truck. A pair of border guards in computer-patterned camouflage ran past Elijah’s window.
“Here they come,” Leung muttered. Elijah dialed the window down and craned out to look. Any tourist would’ve. Looking calm in the face of disruption would make them stand out. He considered climbing out to check for damage. And be outside when the razors arrive?
Blue-black streaks leaped among the long line of vehicles—cyber-augmented panthers turned into biodrones. A shiver shook his shoulders and upper arms as his mind flashed back to the razorhound Kyrie had dealt with in the house. He wanted to scent them, to see if there was a magical component as well, but stealth was more important than his curiosity.
Not that it didn’t itch.
“Get us moving!” Pineapple shouted for the guards’ benefit.
“IDs!” a slender, sweat-soaked guard commanded Cao. She handed over a chip. In Seattle it’d have been a simple RFID ping on the AR, but in Posadas it was a chipreader.
Cao made her voice sound younger than it was. “Are you kidding? Someone’s shooting at us, officer!”
“Sergeant,” the guard corrected. “And it might have been an accident. It happens.” Inserting the chip into a reader, he squinted at the small screen. His brow furrowed.
“It happens?” Cao half-leaned out of the cab. Her hood fell halfway back—Elijah could see it in the mirror. The guard flinched away.
A credible scream of terror erupted from the back. “They’re going to kill us!” Kyrie yowled.
Now it was time for summoning. One, two, three spirits. The spirits watching the area would sure as hell notice them, but they wouldn’t know who called them. With any luck, they’d quickly realize the spirits were there to help. He quickly gave them their instructions and hoped they would be fast enough.