The Lord of Opium

“Wait until you’re served,” Cienfuegos ordered. First Matt, then the jefe, and then Listen were given potato salad, fried chicken, and candied yams by Mirasol. She filled their plates until told to stop. When she cut pieces of pie, Listen demanded three slices, but Cienfuegos stopped her at two.

“I want ice cream and lots of it,” said Listen.

After the meal, various men came up and offered their greetings to Matt. They were all Farm Patrolmen in charge of supervising the technicians operating the plants.

“Mirasol needs to eat,” Matt said after the introductions were over.

“I’ll order a packed lunch. She can have it while she waits for us in the hovercraft,” said Cienfuegos. “Now we get the grand tour.” A technician guided them through the plants, explaining what each section was for. The man seemed very intelligent, but there was a deadness in his eyes that spoke of some form of control. Most of the workers were robots, but a few human technicians moved among them. They must have been performing jobs that required great skill, yet their faces were just as expressionless as the robots. They didn’t look up as Matt and his companions passed.

“They’re all men,” said Listen.

Matt stopped and looked around. She was right. “Why aren’t there any women?” he asked Cienfuegos.

“El Patrón didn’t think women were smart enough for this kind of work,” said the jefe.

“I could do it,” Listen boasted. “Show me how and I could run the whole damn plant.”

“You can’t even reach the on button,” said Cienfuegos. The technician who was guiding them went back to work, and the jefe led them outside to the lake. Here it was hot and humid, and strange trees formed a dense forest not far away. They were covered with vines, and dark shapes moved restlessly behind shaking leaves. Close by, a bird erupted from the reeds and flew toward them, honking angrily. The jefe caught it before it managed to attack and tossed it back into the lake.

“That’s an Egyptian goose. She must have a nest nearby. Let’s go before she recovers.”

There were many kinds of birds Matt had never seen before living in the marsh. Some had built nests like baskets attached to the reeds. Cienfuegos said they were weaverbirds and came from Africa. “I come from Africa too,” Listen said proudly. In the water itself were catfish with long whiskers, and Matt saw a pair of yellow eyes gazing up at him from green depths.

Cienfuegos hastily pulled him and Listen away from the edge. “I forgot. There are Nile crocodiles in the lake. We lost a technician last year,” he said.

Nile crocodiles? thought Matt. This place was getting more amazing by the minute. When they got to the forest, he saw monkeys slipping through the leaves. Large-billed toucans flapped heavily to keep their balance on the branches, and something howled in the trees beyond. Listen cowered behind Cienfuegos.

“It’s a gibbon,” the jefe said. “Harmless, but noisy. Some of the things here aren’t harmless, though. There are Malayan tigers, African river otters that can take a chunk out of your leg, and Tasmanian devils that will attack anything. I think we should turn back. I’d hate to have to kill anything.”

Matt vowed to return when they didn’t have a little girl to protect. He was enchanted with the lush greenness, the teeming life, the odor of flowers hanging from the trees. “It’s a real jungle,” he exulted. “Did El Patrón know about this?”

“Of course, but he lost interest in it after a while,” said Cienfuegos. “He liked to start things and then move on to something else. Neglect is probably what preserved this place.”

“Did all these animals come from the zoo?” Matt asked.

“Yes, but even more interesting is where the plants came from. We’ll go there next,” said the jefe. They retraced their steps and cut through the nuclear power plant to reach the hovercraft port. On the way they passed a shrine to Jesús Malverde, and Matt saw Farm Patrolmen arranging flowers in front of the statue.

“That looks like you,” said Listen, pointing.

Matt sighed. “It’s a portrait of El Patrón as a young man.”

“There’s a big chapel in the woods near Paradise,” the little girl said. “The nurses were always going out there to worship. Dr. Rivas says that only idiots pray to a chunk of plaster.”

“Dr. Rivas doesn’t know anything about religion,” said Cienfuegos.

“Oh, yes he does. He’s a scientist, and they know everything. Religion is crap,” declared Listen.

“You’re the most obnoxious little brat I’ve ever met.”

“Both of you be quiet,” said Matt, who wanted to savor the memory of the green jungle.