Someone knocked at the cabin door, and the Professor rushed to take back the drawing that was with Túlio. While he closed the suitcase haphazardly, a man spoke outside, “Professor Doctor José Antônio?”

“Uuh… yes… yes, may I help? Come in.”

The man, wearing a military uniform, opened the cabin door and took a step inside. He was tall and noticeably athletic. His hair was blond, his skin very white and his eyes very blue. Túlio was impressed with the figure, since blonds were rare in Brazil. There were small communities descending from Dutchmen in the province of Pernambuco, but they were still seen with reservations by the general population — it descending from the Portuguese. Rarely would a blond own symbols of wealth or ascend socially.

“Good morning, professor. I am Captain Barthel, and I have been designated to support your expedition,” he said, while stretching out his hand to the Professor in a cordial gesture.

“Oh, of course! Good morning, Captain. How have you been?”

“Very well, thank you. This must be young Túlio, Colonel Lobato's son. Your father is a great official. I admire him deeply.”

Túlio had already heard those words countless times. Most of them, with a certain tension in the air… like a speech rehearsed several times that mustn't go wrong. But now, it was different — the man looked, indeed, like a sincere admirer of the Colonel. Túlio stretched out his hand and greeted him, nodding.

“And the sleepy little bugra must be Maria de Fátima…”

He was interrupted by the Professor: “That term is pejorative and should not be used by a military officer, Captain.”

“Of course! Forgive me, Professor. Luckily, she is asleep and must not have heard me. It won't happen again.”

Túlio glanced at Maria de Fátima, who seemed to be in deep sleep.

“Well, I will be in the second wagon, together with the rest of the Company. If you need something, just ask for someone to call me. A corporal will be standing outside this cabin until the end of the trip. Farewell.” He nodded goodbye, left and closed the door behind him.

“Unfortunately, politeness is not a prerequisite for military service…” the Professor lamented.

“I don't care, you know that,” Airu purred.

“You were awake the whole time?” Túlio asked.

“Never heard the expression ‘an eye on the cat, another on the fish?’” and she shuffled on the seat again, stretching her feet in a way that Túlio had no alternative but to sit next to the Professor.

“We'd better continue with that subject later, Túlio… the military is a bit restless with the rumors of new Germanic weapons.”

“But what does that drawing and the expedition have to do with the military?”

“We'll talk about that later. For now, it's enough to know that they will keep us safe in the Forest Area while scouring for enemy presence in the region.”

“There may be Germanics in the jungle? That's all we needed…”

“Rest assured, I find it very difficult that there will be anyone there aside from us ourselves. As for our expedition, by the way, officially we'll be making the geographic assessment of the mouth of the Padauari river, eight hundred kilometers to the north of the Army base in Ouro Preto do Oeste. And, obviously, we'll really have to do that.”

“So we have something ‘off the books’ to do?”

“Of course!” the Professor replied with one of those chortles.

The train's whistle sounded again, announcing the arrival at the airport. The building was impressive, especially for Túlio, who had only visited the construction site a few years ago in a school field trip. Airu wasn't very interested, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

The terrain had been flattened and two long parallel lanes allowed for landing and takeoff of the largest national airplanes, besides cargo planes and flying fortresses. An article from weeks ago on the “Estado Mineiro” talked about the possible realization of flights to Paris departing from the “Ana Jacinta e São José” airport that the people from Ouro Preto had already nicknamed “Buss Airport.”

They got off and were not inspected as would happen if they'd come in a “civilian” train. The brand-new buildings displayed some paintless walls with visible plaster. The lighting system was still not fully functional, which gave the environment a somewhat spooky air. Airu, who hated traveling by plane, commented on that and the only answer she heard was “They've inaugurated it before finishing the construction, it was Nossa Senhora do Pilar festival…”

Captain Barthel met up with them and checked their tickets. He said he'd be going in a military aircraft, but he would meet them in Ouro Preto do Oeste. He seemed to be in a hurry and quickly dismissed himself, without looking at Airu.

Túlio was still intrigued by that strange drawing. Was it really possible that the indian was holding a modern weapon? He couldn't wait to resume the conversation with the Professor, but, for now, they had to get to the boarding hall.

The Airport was full, maybe because it was Friday. From the glazed area, one could see the lanes and, further ahead, the two airship mooring towers. Despite airplanes being more economical, faster, and carrying more passengers, airships were still preferred by some of the richest farmers and contractors, causing the price of the tickets to be very, very high. There were ten of them flying in regular routes throughout the Empire, linking since the province of the Pampas until the largest cities of Septentrional America. Two others were dedicated to international routes — Lisbon, Paris, Cairo and Cape Town.

Airu, noticing that Túlio wouldn't take his eyes off the towers, said, “I don't know how someone can have the courage to enter one of those airships, after the LZ129 accident.”

“Accidents happen, Airu. And besides, because of that one the construction of airships was modified and the gas was changed… now, they are a lot safer.”

“If you say so…”

They passed by the Imperial Air Transportation Company balcony and shipped their luggage. The Professor, however, preferred to take the silver suitcase with him. Before turning around, he said to the kind lady who was returning him the tickets, “I have an authorization from the War Ministry that allows me to carry inviolable content… therefore, my luggage cannot be opened, alright?”

The lady, without dropping the smile, replied, “Perfectly, sir. In any case, today we're not inspecting passengers or luggage. Lack of personnel, you know how it is…”

Upon settling down on the boarding hall, Túlio brought up the subject of the drawing and was promptly reprimanded by the Professor: “Not here! We'll talk when we get there.”

Left no alternative, he sat down and leafed through a newspaper that had been left on the chair next to him. It was from the previous day and the headline on the cover said, “Economy Minister confident about trade agreement with Germanics.” It wasn't the type of news that interested him, but lately the frictions between the Brazilian Empire and the Germanic Democratic Republic were all that was talked about.

It was hard to believe the rumors that the Germanics had new weapons, far superior to the ones developed in Brazilian ground. Brazil had never lost a contention, the investment in weapons research and development was very high and, of course, Germania had been practically destroyed during the Great War… Incredible that all that scuffle has started with some stolen seeds…, he thought. He remembered a History class where the Professor talked about the theft of hundreds of rubber tree seed sacks in the beginning of the XX Century. The Brazilian Empire was, then, the only producer of rubber in the world, but a Germanic managed to take thousands of seeds smuggled from the Amazon Forest Area and cultivate them in Asia. In 1940, Germania entered the rubber and tires market, provoking the ire of Empress Leopoldina IV. That had been the catalyst for the Great War.

Soon, the EMB-1120 arrived and Túlio could see it taxi. It was really a fantastic machine — a “delta” structure with four propellers turned backwards, capable of carrying two hundred and fifteen passengers and fly from Porto Alegre to Recife without stopping over.

While he observed the movement of the ground personnel — airport employees who worked in the landing and takeoff lanes — removing and storing luggage, he noticed two soldiers who were carefully scouring every bag that was loaded into the airplane. Maybe they were looking for dangerous objects, who knows?

A shrill voice sounded in the waiting hall, informing that the passengers of the flight to Cuiabá should board immediately. Airu came to find Túlio, who wouldn't take his eyes off the EMB-1120 “Inconfidência.” Before pulling the boy by the collar of his shirt, she also saw the military officers by the luggage.

“Idiots. They won't find what they're looking for,” she said.

“I think so too. Who would try to put a bomb in a plane to Cuiabá?” retorted Túlio, with airs of terrorism expert.

“That's not what they want, cari.”

“No?! And what do they want?”

“The suitcase.”