José’s reply had come back within five hours of our posting. We’d been informed—equally cryptically—that our "shipment" would cost us at least three thousand nuyen, and that we could find what we were looking for at a talismonger’s shop in Houston. And that’s where we’d met the AFL contact—not at the store itself, but sitting at a Tex-Mex restaurant across the street. He’d known us by a pre-arranged signal: he’d instructed one of us to wear a T-shirt with Mama G’s favorite animal on it.