Domingo Vargas wore a similar costume to the one I’d seen him wearing in the documentary tridcast that Angie had uploaded to me. It looked like a jumpsuit of soft leather that had been dusted with a layer of powdered gold. Form-fitting and presumably laced up the back where Vargas’ jaguar-pelt cape covered it, the suit included hands that dangled from his wrists. Each time he moved his arms, the hands bobbed about like balloons. I fought back my gagging reflex as I wondered whether the hands might be real—whether the suit had been made of flayed human skin.