The space, and also the time, characteristic of Burroughs' fictions can be identified with that landscape that is constantly present in his books that he himself baptized as Interzona in Naked Lunch and where all his novels can be located, including the latest ones with their highly topographical titles ( Cities of the red night, The place of dead roads, Western lands): a place of traffic, not only spatial, not only commercial, of bodies and substances, images and technologies, but also of places and times, from a future undated interplanetary to each point –St. Louis, New York, Mexico, Tangier of the author's particular career or an even more remote past from which come ancient warriors, slaves or pirates of all conceivable races and sexual orientations. Here (where?) Nothing is true and everything is allowed, as has been cited so much, but the most evident consequence of this state of affairs is not the bland freedom with which the bad lyric dreams, but a continuous tingling of deals and exchanges Where there is no equity and the only possible honesty among so many scams resides in the persistent proof that everything, however false, has consequences and is always won or lost, although not definitely.