by T5 and DRAX
The Fish Factory, La Perdita:
Ameristar said, "Okay, Drake. here is a map of the region." She unfolded a map and pointed to a spot on it. "Here is a small village called Antonio Filinto. There we will gather information about the exact location of the tower."
"Hold up a second," said Drake Marshall. "You don't know where it is?"
"Well I do... almost. It's supposed to be close to this village in some swampy region." She shrugged.
Drake rolled his eyes. "Are you telling me that we are going to God-knows-where to trample around in a swamp? Plus not really knowing where we are supposed to look? Oh, great."
"Relax, man. The trip to Antonio Filinto will take about, oh, two seconds. So we only have to find the right guide, and all will be well." She gave him a big smile and patted him on the shoulder. "What we need to think of, though, is this: the tower may be inhabited. We haven't gotten any confirmation about that yet."
"Who's we?"
"Ummm... My friend, Crasher. She usually helps me on errands like this."
"Aha, so why isn't she along for the ride on this one?"
Ameristar grabbed Drake's hand. "And miss this date? Not a chance." She winked an eye and said to her armor, "Gaia, please give me a visual on location Antonio Filinto."
Inside her helmet, a satellite photo showed on her display. "Okay, Drake. Here goes."
Drake was just about to ask what the teleport would feel like, when they appeared in a small alley close to the village center. The air was thick and warm there in the Amazon jungle. He knew this was one mission that would probably test his abilities to their limits.
Drake and Ameristar stepped out of the alley. Drake was now wore his body armor. He looked something like a cross between a motocross racer and Boba Fett. The armor was a uniform shade of green so dark that most first glances would mistake it for black. He had a crutch of the same color in his right hand and had a second one strapped to his back. "So, do you speak Portuguese, or should we just speak slowly and loudly?"
"Speaking slowly and loudly is the American way. Don't worry, though. I think we'll get by. I like the outfit, by the way."
"You'd better not be making fun. This uniform used to strike fear into the hearts of Wisconsin's criminal underworld."
"You mean the cow tippers?"
"On slow nights, maybe."
They don't get their chance to speak slowly and loudly, as the locals seem suspicious of the armored strangers. "They don't seem to take kindly to armored types 'round these here parts, ma'am."
"You're right. We should just concentrate on finding a guide instead of questioning the locals."
"We should try in there." Drake gestured toward a seedy-looking bar.
"Why in there?"
"Guides are always in seedy-looking bars. Haven't you watched enough bad adventure movies? And even if I'm wrong, it'll give us a chance to enjoy the native atmosphere."
"Sounds like a plan to me, let's go."
The bars in Antonio Filinto were not to be recommended in guide books to anyone. That conclusion hit both Ameristar and Drake like a sledgehammer. The smells and the people reminded her of the Mahawatora Indians further south with whom she had once had a few arguments with. They didn't have any manners or hygiene, and certainly no respect for tourists.
As neither of them were linguistically interested, they had to struggle with men who actually dared to wolf whistle and harass them as soon as they showed their faces. But as they were about to give up, they found a small store where a fat little Texan girl was munching away on Oreos.
"Excuse me. Can we talk to your parents? Are they in?"
"Yep. Jey arr beschind sche back." Crumbs and spittle flew into Ameristar's face, who tried her best not to cringe.
Wiping her face, she motioned Drake to follow her. He looked at the filthy kid and shuddered. What had they gotten into? The apartment in the back was an environmental catastrophe with a stink that could chase away even Grimm.
Drake made a face. "Ookayyy, let's stop to re-evaluate this plan of yours. Could a place like this actually have anyone with a self-aware brain?"
"Oh, don't be so fussy. This won't take long. Look at it as training."
"Training? For what?"
"Haven't you ever been in the deep Amazon before? It stinks to high heaven."
"Really? Why?"
"All those fallen trees, undervegetation and dead leafs or animals create a smell that can only be compared to a pig farm... in summertime."
"Oh jeeezzz! Now you tell me. You couldn't have considered sharing this info with me before we started?"
"Are you kidding? You would have said no."
"Of course I would... I would have..."
"Hello? Can I help you with something?" said an older man with a long gray, bordering on yellow, beard and what appeared to once upon a time to have been blue jeans, who appeared in a small doorway.
Ameristar made sure her glove was on and shook his hand.
"Are you American bikers?" he asked with a grin that didn't contain many teeth. "Hell's Angels, maybe?"
Drake coughed and made a sarcastic smile.
"Oh, no," Ameristar reassured him with a smile of her own. "We are just... errrr... explorers. And we're looking for the best place to get a map of the region and some information."
The old man regarded them with suspicion, but decided they were most probably nuts coming here, so they would probably be harmless. "I do have a few maps, actually. What are you looking for? Of course, any information will cost ya."
Ameristar sighed and handed him a twenty. His eager eyes never left it while Drake asked him where the location of the Tower of Cuccubao was.
The old man, intrigued, opened a box and began to ruffle through a pile of mixed maps that had seen better days. "Ah. I knew we something like that here. And for you... let's just say... umm... another ten bucks." He gave them his brown-yellow grin again.
Drake was miffed. "That's outr--"
Ameristar interrupted. "Of course. I will give you the money you ask, but there is one additional thing I would require: an answer to a question."
"Okey-dokey."
"Is there anyone living there now?"
"Well, rumors tells me that there are some pretty weird goings-on over there. I wouldn't go near it, if you ask me. And neither should a perty little girl like yourself, either. Hear my advice."
"You're most probably right. Thanks for the map and the information. Drake, say goodbye to the man." She gave him a discreet nudge.
Carefully and with hesitation he shook the filthy hand and quickly said, "Thanks, and goodbye." He hurried out into the store, where the girl was still eating. Outside, the fresh air seemed like heaven.
Ameristar laughed. "Okay, handsome. Let's go where nobody in their right mind has ever gone before."