All was as it should be in the peaceful little room at the Convent of Santa Clara. Esperanza came straight in and started talking as though they’d only broken off contact a moment before. “It’s about time! You had me running all over New York for doctors while you’ve been living it up in Paradise.” Esperanza shook her finger at him, exactly as though he were a naughty child. “I’ve succeeded, not that you deserve it. I’ve got five of the world’s top brain surgeons. They demand a million dollars each up front and a thousand for every day they’re working. Are you listening?”
“Yes,” said Matt, who was still overcoming the effects of the scanner.
“He hasn’t been playing,” said Dr. Rivas. “He’s recovering from a severe case of scarlet fever.”
“Eduardo?” asked Esperanza, squinting to make sure. “I thought you were dead with all the other medical staff.”
“Mil gracias for your concern, Doña Esperanza,” the doctor said. “I’d like to help out with the operations. I probably have more experience than anyone.”
“Suit yourself. It’s a fool’s mission, anyway.” The woman inserted a roll of paper into a cylinder like a fat thermos bottle. “I’ve written down the bank numbers and locations to send money.” She threw the bottle into the holoport.
Matt jumped. It felt as though she was aiming straight at him, but, in fact, the cylinder moved as slowly as the bird had, and he had plenty of time to get out of the way. It fell out the other end and struck the floor with a metallic chime.
“Don’t touch it,” warned Dr. Rivas. “Let it come to room temperature.”
Matt saw that the cylinder was covered in ice crystals that were rapidly melting. Cienfuegos nudged it with his foot. “I didn’t know you could send things through the portal,” he said.
“It isn’t recommended, but you can do it in an emergency,” said the doctor. “The cylinder insulates the paper against cold.”
The wormhole meanwhile was swirling with mist. After a while it reestablished itself, and Esperanza was visible again. “The doctors will come through at San Luis after you’ve deposited the money,” she said. “Inside the cylinder is a list of animals and plants I want. We might as well start the ecological recovery while you’re diddling around with the eejits. Major Beltrán can do the collecting.”
“I trained in agriculture. I’ll collect them,” said Cienfuegos.
Esperanza waved a heavily ringed hand. “I don’t care who does it as long as I get results. If there’s nothing else—”
“Wait!” cried Matt before she could cut the connection. “I want to see María.”
Esperanza for once looked almost sympathetic. “You kids. She’s been nagging my ears off about you.” Matt’s spirits lifted. María hadn’t forgot him. “I suppose there’s no harm in it, but get this clear: You are not to tell my daughter what happened at El Patrón’s funeral.”
“Why not? She has to find out sometime.”
Esperanza held up her palms for silence. The heavy rings, the Aztec brooch pinned to her black dress, the large silver earrings framing her grim face made her look as uncompromising as a stone idol. “Listen to the voice of experience, chiquito. No one outside of Opium knows what happened at El Patrón’s funeral.”
“What difference does that make?” asked Matt.
“As far as the rest of the world is concerned, the Alacráns are still alive along with their friends and bodyguards. Glass Eye may have taken over the smaller drug states, but he doesn’t know how many enemies he has inside Opium. That makes him nervous.”
Matt could see her reasoning. Glass Eye might want the territory, but he didn’t know what would happen if he tried to take it.
“And let’s not forget the army of sicarios El Patrón has scattered throughout the world. They exist to assassinate his enemies, and as long as they think there’s a strong government in Opium, they’ll carry out orders. My sources say a lot of people aren’t sleeping well these days. What do you think would happen if they learned that Opium was ruled by one inexperienced child? You would get no more supplies on credit. Your bank accounts would be looted.”
Esperanza gazed unblinking at Matt. Her will was iron, but so (and it came from some deep source he didn’t understand) was his. He would not be intimidated by her. But he had to admit her arguments made sense. “You think that María wouldn’t keep the secret,” he said.