Skater and Elvis had ridden their motorcycles almost two kilometers east along the highway to another bar they’d found on the area map Archangel had accessed through her deck. The Cocked Hat Saloon was a border bar as well, but it was in Everett, not the tribal lands. Specializing in cyber-delights like the addictive better-than-life simchips and restricted pharmaceuticals that the Amerinds couldn’t get easily in tribal lands, the saloon did a bang-up after-hours biz. That’s where they’d boosted the car they now buzzed down the highway.