The Lord of Opium

They returned in silence as Cienfuegos and Listen simmered with resentment. From all the crumbs inside the hovercraft, it was clear that Mirasol had fed lavishly. She looked up and—was it possible?—smiled at Matt. The smile was gone as swiftly as it had appeared, and he wasn’t quite sure it had existed.

He sat next to her and let Listen sit in the front. For days at a time he forgot about Mirasol. He was so used to her that she seemed more like a familiar piece of furniture than a person. He took her hand, hoping for a reaction. She let it hang limply in his grasp. Remembering how risky it was to awaken her, he let it fall again.

24

THE BIOSPHERE

They floated over a series of low hills. The canyons were full of streams and a wild profusion of plant life. The dry hilltops were covered with cactuses and paloverde trees. Ahead was a shimmering, transparent curtain that distorted the land beyond.

“That’s the northern border of Opium,” said Cienfuegos.

Matt had seen the southern border. It consisted of a line of poles with nothing in between. Beyond had been a seething mass of factories and skyscrapers. The air had been a smudgy brown, and the noise emanating from the city had been terrifying. Here, there was only rippling air and vague shapes. This was how the border looked during lockdown.

“We’ll land at the Alacrán Biosphere,” said Cienfuegos. They paralleled the shimmering curtain, and Matt felt the hairs on his arms stir. Listen rubbed her face. “What you feel is the energy field that protects Opium,” said the jefe.

Matt could detect vague shapes on the other side of the curtain—specks in the air that might have been hovercrafts. Behind them rose a hazy mountain. “What’s that?” cried Listen, grabbing Matt’s arm.

There were bodies embedded in the energy field. They were frozen in midstride, as though the men had been running and were still alive, but one skeletal hand stretched bony fingers into Opium. “I wish the news would get out that it’s lethal to cross the border,” the jefe said crossly. “What a waste! There were at least a dozen good farmworkers there.”

Listen covered her eyes, and Matt turned away. He saw that they were approaching a collection of huge buildings, each one at least a mile long. Surrounding them was a clear bubble. “That looks like the Scorpion Star,” said Matt in amazement.

“The space station was copied from this. I’ve always wanted to go inside, but I couldn’t get permission from Dr. Rivas,” said the jefe. “Now, of course, I have the new patrón to back me up.”

“I’ve seen the Scorpion Star dozens of times,” boasted Listen. “Dr. Angel lets me come whenever I want, because I’m clever and I don’t break things like the Bug.”

“The first biosphere was built in the United States,” said the jefe, ignoring her. “El Patrón captured it during the drug wars, but the US army drove him away. In revenge, he took every plant and animal with him and destroyed the buildings to keep anyone else from using them.”

“He wasn’t much of an ecologist, was he?” Matt said.

Cienfuegos grinned. “You could call him an accidental ecologist. His real motive was to collect as much loot as possible. He rebuilt the biosphere, improving and refining it until he had a model for the Scorpion Star.”

“Let’s go inside,” said Listen, her eyes bright with excitement.

“No one has done that since the scientists collected plants to make the jungle you saw,” said the jefe. “That was eighty years ago.”

Imagine being locked up all that time, Matt thought, looking at the miles of buildings. Generations had passed, wars had been fought, and governments had toppled. “Didn’t El Patrón get curious about what was going on inside?” If anything is, he thought with a thrill of horror. Maybe they’re all dead.

“He was interested for as long as it took to build the Scorpion Star,” said Cienfuegos. “Then he had a new toy to play with. There are lots of things knocking around Opium that no one has bothered with for a long time.”

Cienfuegos eased the hovercraft onto a magnetic strip. “I hope to hell the recharger still works. I wouldn’t want to get stranded here.” He opened the hatch, and all climbed out. The jefe produced a device like a TV remote and clicked in numbers. A door in the biosphere bubble opened up. It moved reluctantly, as though decades of dust had found its way into the machinery. “Dr. Rivas says we have to go through a screening process to keep germs from entering.”