“We did.” She glanced back, seeing old Chow, shovel over his shoulder, as he came plodding across the landing field. “Once Chow’s in, you can lock up for the night.”

“Got it.” Wejee narrowed an evaluative eye as he glanced up at the darkening clouds. “Gonna be a quetzal night, if you ask me. The air’s got that feel to it.”

“You keep everyone sharp,” Shig reminded, mimicking Wejee’s suspicious glance at the sullen sky. “Last time Whitey was around, they tried a mass attack, remember?”

Wejee shifted his hat, rubbed at his thick brow. “We don’t take any chances. Everybody’s on alert. Most of us are a bit nervous that he’s been in the area for a month now. Wish we’d been running scouts, searching for him. Better to kill that son of a bitch before he has a chance to hit us at a time of his own choosing.”

“Yeah.” Talina gave him a knowing squint. “Whitey and I have some unfinished business.” She’d been the one to maim his left front leg, and the bullet scars she’d left him with still marred the big quetzal’s side and had given him a limp.

She and Shig followed the graveled avenue into town. This was a wide passage used by haulers carrying clay from the big mine five kilometers to the north. This late, the two remaining operable haulers were parked.

Stepping into the biggest—and only—town on Donovan wasn’t inspiring. The original settlement had been laid out in a Cartesian grid, with inflatable—and then hardened—domes lining the streets. As the town grew, any empty lots were filled with stone-and-chabacho-timber buildings. As equipment wore out or became inoperable for lack of spare parts, it had been abandoned, set on blocks, or scavenged to keep other equipment working. As a result, the place was half maze and partial junkyard.

Talina remembered that Tamarland Benteen had referred to it as an “inhabited trash heap.”

They turned on to the main avenue. Lined with businesses, the school, warehouses, and workshops, this was Port Authority’s manufacturing, administrative, and financial center. As the rain increased, lightning flashed across the heavens. Moments later, the bang and crash of thunder followed.

“Tal? Shig?” Yvette’s voice queried in Talina’s earbud. “We need to talk.”

“Heading to Inga’s,” Tal told her. “If it’s anything shitty, you can tell us over a drink.”

“Be right there.”

Talina glanced sidelong at Shig, but the short Indian just shrugged.