Twenty-four hours ago, on the bank of the Brazos, they’d been in the world where things made of microchips and petrochemicals cost basically nothing, and a whole city could be summoned into being in a few hours out of tarps, zip ties, and garbage bags. It wasn’t a fancy city, but it wasn’t terrible. Gumbo might be featured on the bar menu here in this hotel lobby, but Saskia deemed it unlikely that it would be any better than what they’d made last night over camp stoves and consumed in the open air in plastic bowls.