“This world is as large as you make it. Move, adapt, conquer. When push comes to shove, the horizon is just another line. So long as you’re the toughest motherfucker around, you can cross as many as you want.”
–Hades, “Some Philosophical Shit”. 4 Years After.
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El Dorado: The City of Gold.
The name sure did its job. Even though the Hollowing removed all direct memories from a rezzer’s past life, legends and fables still had a habit of bleeding their way through. Everyone who heard about El Dorado wanted to go there and would be willing to brave thousands of miles through the untamed Mexican countryside to see it. Where Pandemonium was known for its liberated chaos, their sister city became a beacon of prosperity for all who might survive the trip.
They’d picked the spot well too. Emerald hills rose around a valley that could’ve been carved from jade. A calm wind flowed from the mountains, tasting of a tropical freshness that could be found nowhere else. Even the sun seemed to shine brighter here, casting the plaster walls of the outpost in a vibrant yellow and orange that could be mistaken for gold at a distance, a stark contrast to the ruined expanse of the city that lay just north.
But then they’d hit that final stretch where it’d disappear below the lip of the terrain, only to appear the moment they cleared the highway. And up close, the cracks in the walls became apparent, along with the peeling paint. Vines choked out many of the buildings along the outer edge of town, and there were plenty of structures that had collapsed altogether. Hell, most of it remained unclaimed, and one could travel for several blocks in what would appear to be just another dilapidated town before ever hitting the sheet metal gates affixed into roads that were barely wide enough to support a single truck. There, a lone sentry would keep watch atop one of their crudely erected wooden towers and hail anyone who found this place using their local people’s language.
In Leah’s case, the gates were opened the moment her convoy entered the valley. Her translator, Luciá, had hailed them via radio, and it wasn’t like anyone else would be waltzing through their little valley today. Not inside armored transports with Brownings and SAWs, anyway.
Leah rubbed her eyes as they entered the outpost, into the more active city center. Freshly painted signs pocketed the shops along the road, though Leah couldn’t read them, given that they were written in Spanish. Music played through speakers whenever they passed some of the nicer restaurants, and advertisements played on a loop wherever merchants could mount them. Dozens of folks walked about the cleaner, cobblestone streets, clearing the way as the trucks rolled through.
“It always been this empty, Luciá?” Leah asked, glancing back and forth. She could’ve sworn there used to be hundreds walking about this time of day.
Her translator brushed a lock of silky brown hair from her reddened eyes. “Last I was here, Santiago was thinking of expanding the boundary north another block closer to the Tepozteco – the Aztec temple that overlooks El Dorado.”
“So? It isn’t like you have problems with hollows down here.”
Luciá smiled meekly. “We do have difficulty with each expansion, though. The walls need to be repaired, the buildings reinforced, the roads paved… Most of the city will come together to ensure it remains safe.” She chuckled. “There’s no Charon here to control the border, so the people must do it themselves.”
Leah tapped her fingers along the window. “Fair enough.”
In truth, it had been ages since she had visited Pandemonium’s sister city herself. Unlike the other outposts, El Dorado had been spared from the brunt of turmoil when Hades met his demise. After all, they were the most self-sufficient, with their own bands of Hunters, centralized government, and working economy to match. They even had outposts of their own scattered around their sphere of influence to pull in resources they lacked.
She’d thought they might have been a pain to get back into the fold, but they accepted her authority without complaint when the time did come. Leah supposed it made sense as she once again took in this settlement. El Dorado stood as a perfect example of the type of society that rezzers could form when they worked together, but it was still a far cry from Pandemonium. With only one-tenth the population and infrastructure to match, they could never quite get tech more advanced than steam power without tapping into the greater network of their allies up north. The food, clothes, and homes might have been their own, but those solar panels had been imported, along with the electronic screens. Were it not for Pandemonium, El Dorado would slowly wither away and die like any other Enclave.
That much kept them in line.
Her convoy reached the main government complex. Far from the splendor of Elysium, the few who oversaw El Dorado’s needs had nestled themselves inside a single block, with a small stone wall surrounding the area. A group of officials waited for Leah along the entrance as they rolled up to an iron-wrought gate that couldn’t even fit a bike. Parking always was a bitch around these parts.
“Hola, amigos!” Luciá waved as she stepped out of the truck, with Leah and her guards following behind.
Even after so much time, Leah still recognized the main player at once.
Santiago was irreplaceable among his retinue, with his bleached white mustache and tanned, wrinkled skin. His red eyes stared out beneath bushy, grey eyebrows, examining the convoy in front. An old man when he’d hollowed, Santiago had risen from a mere merchant to the leader of El Dorado after Hades ousted his predecessor for disloyalty many years back. He seemed to have gotten sick of the sombrero and swapped his colorful poncho for a plain white dress shirt and trousers, but she’d dealt with him enough to not get thrown off.
There were others around too, though Leah couldn’t quite place names to faces. She only saw these people occasionally, and most of them were as forgettable as the rest. Even now, they simply averted their gaze and hid behind Santiago, lest they somehow incur her wrath.
Stolen novel; please report.
One guy did meet Leah head-on. He rose in Santiago’s shadow, his sallow cheeks and clothes unadorned, but he still stared her in the eyes without the slightest hint of fear. Part of her wondered if they’d met before, but she wasn’t about to dwell too hard. Not when there were more pressing issues at hand.
After exchanging pleasantries with Luciá in their native tongue, Santiago stared over the rest of the group, his sight passing by without thought. “So when will Leah arrive, my friends?”
She stepped forth with a sigh. “I’m right here, Santiago.”
His eyes fell on her and widened. He lunged down before making contact. “My apologies, my Lady. It has been too long, and you are…” he paused.
“Shorter than you remember and without the hat?”
He chuckled nervously. “Sí, senora.”
She waved a hand. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it after this long of a hiatus.” Everyone knew Leah’s name at this point, but the Hollowing would pervert their image of her if she left them alone too long. Many had developed this idea that she was a nine-foot-tall, pale-faced goliath, usually with a colossal brimmed hat. She figured the exaggerated height was born from people looking up to her as they bowed down, but she’d never understand where the hat came from.
“Where’s Flamingo?” she asked. “I’ll need to speak with him too.”
Santiago kept his head low. “I am sure he is around somewhere.”
“Then go find him.”
“Sí, I will send for him right now.” He uttered some commands to one of his men, who scurried off. “Perhaps we could start this meeting without him. I am sure you have had a long drive.”
Leah shrugged. “Sure. Lead the away.”
“Follow me, my Lady.”
Only then did Santiago stare her in the eyes, albeit briefly, before turning away. Leah blinked back, a chill suddenly in her spine. What the hell was that? There was something off about the look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite place. Something wrong.
But as quickly as the feeling came, it disappeared, leaving nothing but an old man with a thick, white mustache. Leah rubbed her brow and kept walking. It had been a long drive.
Unlike the rest of the outpost, the inner courtyard looked more extravagant than ever. El Dorado based its government inside an old world parish, and it seemed that Santiago had been pulling the breaks to get some much-needed renovations back into place. Cracked tiles and bricks had been replaced, the grass was freshly mowed, and the trees swayed comfortably in the wind, their branches well-trimmed. Even the stone cross in the middle had been built back up, casting a long shadow over the rest of the yard. A few workers clung around the edges, but they scurried away at the sight of Leah and her entourage.
Not even going to stand and stare, huh? Once again, Leah thought of probing further. She’d gotten used to her people getting nervous around her, but this was some next-level avoidance. Did they think she’d come down here to collect all their scalps?
She opened her mouth to speak.
“Ah, senora Leah,” another interrupted. “It is true, you have come visit us, after all.”
Just at the edge of sight, Flamingo leaned against a pillar. As the best Hunter in this part of the world, he was easy to remember. The light showed off the golden trim of his otherwise black velour jacket that hung past his knees. His black top hat was distinctive enough, but it was the mask in the shape of a skull that identified him most, decorated in a mosaic of colorful flowers and vines that sprouted over an otherwise pink shell. All the Hunters in El Dorado donned masks similar to this, a style they had cultivated over the years, though most stuck to a classical bone-white.
Flamingo tilted his head their way, the skeletal teeth of his mask curling into a smile.
“There you are, Flamingo,” Leah said. “And here I thought you were hiding too.”
He shook his head. “I did not know you were arrive today.”
She turned around. “Luciá, I thought I told you to give them my exact orders the moment we entered radio range.”
Her translator cringed. “I did as you say, my Lady!”
Santiago stepped between, waving his hands with a laugh. “The fault is mine, senora. My amigo was to dispatch some hollows before your arrival.”
Flamingo retorted something back in his accented English, but it was too marred to follow. Santiago grinned and replied in Spanish. The conversation shifted from there, with Flamingo keeping his arms crossed as he leaned against the pillar while Santiago’s voice grew louder and faster.
“What the hell are they saying?” Leah asked.
“It seems there was a miscommunication,” Luciá explained. “Flamingo claims that he’s heard nothing of you or hollows, but Santiago insists that he ordered him directly. Flamingo believes that… Well, let’s just say that he is not saying nice things about Santiago right now.”
Leah watched the soap opera build a few more seconds before clapping her hands. “Enough!”
The two hushed at once.
“Look, let’s make this as easy as possible. Flamingo, if hollows are nearby, then you should get them cleared out, nice and quick. I’ll even lend you one of my trucks if needed. However, you will get it done before nightfall, and you will have all your Hunters assembled by then. I have a job for you that will take everything you’ve got, and I don’t want to drag this out. Understood?”
He nodded. “I do as you ask.”
“Good.” She turned over. “And you, Santiago… Get your shit together. No, I’m not Hades. I won’t cut off your hand and make you eat it because you flubbed an order, but I’ve got too much going on back home to waste time on your incompetence. Either get your people on the same page, or I’ll find someone else who will. Got it?”
He stumbled back a step. “There will be no more mistakes, I promise.”
They again made for the door, but Flamingo called out one last time. “We will speak more when I return, yes?”
Leah glanced back. “Just make sure you have your men assembled. And I mean all of them.”
He nodded. “It will be done.”