Wales had forgotten. What difference did it make, indeed? The nearly-deserted Earth was any man's property now, when inevitable catastrophe was rushing toward it.
A thought struck him. These folk couldn't expect to take loot with them when they were evacuated. So they didn't plan to be evacuated.
He said, "Wait here. I'm going to have a look at them."
"I wouldn't," said the driver hastily. "These people—"
"Just wait," said Wales crisply.
He walked away from the car, toward the flashlights and the shadows and the shouting voices.
The voices had a raw edge of excitement in them, and a few were thick with alcohol. They were mixed men and women, and a few yelping youngsters.
They weren't breaking windows. They simply used crowbars to force open doors. Many doors weren't even locked. Eager hands passed out a motley collection of objects, small appliances, liquor bottles, canned synthefood, clothing.
No wonder Evacuation was going off schedule, thought Wales! Letting people play the fool like this—
A flashlight beam flared beside him, a man's face peered at his uniform, and a loud voice bellowed close to his ears, "Look, everybody! It's an Evacuation Officer!"