I supposed the heavy security was due to the country’s ongoing civil war. Only a few news reports had trickled out—and you could bet your hoop that these were all heavily censored by the powers that be. But it sounded like the Azzies had their hands full. In the week before our arrival a priest had been killed when the government VTOL he was traveling in exploded in mid-air on its approach to Tenochtitlán after returning from Mérida, a civil war hot spot. When I heard the news I thought for one wild moment that it might be Vargas, but instead it was a priest of Huitzilopochtli, the Azzie sun god. And three years ago, a car bomb exploded outside of the Aztechnology corporate headquarters itself, killing twelve people. No wonder the country’s various security forces kept a nervous watch on the passing traffic. Most of the heat was confined to the Yucatán—but they never knew where or when the rebels might strike next.