V
Time passed; and then time was all gone, and it was midnight, nearly the Nexus Point.
In front of the hotel, a drowsy cab-driver gave them an argument. "The Public Liberry? Listen, the Liberry ain't open this time of night. I ought to—Oh, thanks. Hop in." He folded the five-dollar bill and put the cab in gear.
Harse said ominously: "Liberry, Mooney? Why do you instruct him to take us to the Liberry?"
Mooney whispered: "There's a law against being in the Park at night. We'll have to sneak in. The Library's right across the street."
Harse stared, with his luminous pale eyes. But it was true; there was such a law, for the parks of the city lately had become fields of honor where rival gangs contended with bottle shards and zip guns, where a passerby was odds-on to be mugged.
"High Command must know this," Harse grumbled. "Must proceed, they say, to Nexus Point. But then one finds the aboriginals have made laws! Oh, I shall make a report!"
"Sure you will," Mooney soothed; but in his heart, he was prepared to bet heavily against it.
Because he had a new strategy. Clearly he couldn't get the survival kit from Harse. He had tried that and there was no luck; his arm still tingled as the bellboy's had, from having seemingly absent-mindedly taken the handle to help Harse. But there was a way.