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〃I am。〃
〃Let's see your blood book。〃
Nathan Lee lowered one arm； carefully fetched the i。d。 booklet； and tossed it to the scarecrow。 In lieu of latex gloves； the man used a folded leaf to pick it up。
〃Charles Andrew Bowen；〃 he read aloud。 〃M。D。 Bay City； Texas。〃 He pared the photo to Nathan Lee's face。 Nathan Lee had paid the forger with Tibetan gold。 He looked old in the picture。 It was a fair snapshot of his soul。 With a twig； the scarecrow opened the pages to mid…booklet； and visibly relaxed。 〃He tested negative at the Hancock station。 That was two days ago。〃 He lowered his rifle。
The horseback man did not。 〃Now he knows where the herd is。〃
Who were these guys？
〃What's your business？〃 the scarecrow said。
〃I'm looking for someone。〃 That annoyed them。 Everyone was looking for someone。 The phone network had crashed long ago。 The information age had gone the way of the albatross。 〃It's the truth；〃 he said。 He stopped。 Everybody had a story； losses to tell； an angle； a hunger。
〃I wouldn't go down there；〃 said the scarecrow。 〃The coasts are getting hot。 You know about Florida。〃
The plague had showed up in Key West and spread to Miami。 Taking no chances； the authorities had lopped the entire peninsula from the map。 No one entered。 No one left。 It was not a police action。 There were no polite checkpoints。 The curfew was absolute。 From Jacksonville to Pensacola； the Army patrols shot to kill。 The empire's furthest outposts were being overrun； one by one。 First Hawaii； then the Gulf。 Alaska had started to turn mean； too。 He had used every resource in catching one of the evacuation flights down into the lower forty…eight。
〃It's not too late；〃 said Nathan Lee。
The two men exchanged a look。 The horseback man kept his finger on the trigger。 He continued scowling。 〃He knows about the herd。〃 Only then did Nathan Lee see the string of ears hanging from his pommel。 They were coyote and dog ears； but one was human。 The horseback man grinned。
〃What are those zebras doing here？〃 asked Nathan Lee。
〃You ever hear of the National Zoo？〃
It fell into place； or part of it anyway。 〃You're rangers？〃
〃I was in my third year at veterinary school；〃 said the scarecrow。 〃Then the food riots hit。 After that； we trucked all the big mammals into the mountains。 They're safer here； even with the predators about。 If they find a cure； the animals can go back to the zoo。〃
〃And if they don't？〃 said Nathan Lee。
〃Nature won。〃
While he fetched his pack from the cave； the two men rode off into the mist。 Nevertheless； Nathan Lee felt watched all the way out of the forest。
THE RANGERSwere right。 No one was going into Washington； only trying to leave。 On the east side of the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge； he came to a great logjam of people waiting to be processed so they could cross the Potomac and strike off for the interior。 He could smell and hear the blood stations at work on them。 The stench of Clorox disinfectant was powerful in the noon heat。 Worse were the shrieking children； whose little veins were hidden away。
〃Where do I go for my blood test？〃 he asked a soldier。
〃You're inbound？ No test。〃
That was ominous。 They were giving up on D。C。
The Metro was closed until further notice。 Thousands of homeless inhabited it； a dark； tubular municipality all its own。 Not wanting to chance the darker parts； he set off along Lafayette Boulevard on foot。
Back the Attack；said a poster pasted on a wall。 The Health Services had tried a number of such slogans； some borrowed from WWII； some lifted from now outdated battles against diabetes； breast cancer； or AIDS：We Can Beat It； Speed the Cure； All Together； Our Blood Is One。
In the ancient tradition； the elite had fled before the plague and left the city to the masses。 Far from being lifeless； the streets were fiery with culture。 It was cherry blossom season。 Pink petals surged on the breeze。 Flowers burst from the earth。 All the parks had been uprooted to make vegetable gardens。 Their long rows were tended by women and children； guarded by men with pawnshop guns or black market automatics。 Some gardens belonged to church groups； others were owned by gangs。 The most beautiful gardens he saw were cared for by the Nation of Islam； whose women dressed in white like black angels。
It was a time of plenty。 Markets abounded with canned goods stolen from grocery chains and with USAID supplies。 You could find live chickens to eat or to lay eggs。 Ducks and other water fowl hung plucked from the rafters。 Tables were heavy with crab； mackarel； salmon； and squid。 Rich； spicy barbeque smoke hung in the air。
After the cold； hunched malice of Alaska； now just an armed beachhead staving off foreign carriers； Washington was bewitching。 Block after block； drummers hammered at their bongos。 Dancers twirled； tangoed； and writhed。 A cappella reigned： choirs； quartets； brave soloists。 There were fire eaters； clowns； tightrope walkers； an ax juggler。 Every street corner held orators and soothsayers； philosophers； unemployed teachers giving lessons for food； and doomsayers ranting。
At first glance； there was nothing but abundance。 Food convoys trundled through like chains of elephants； disbursing hundred…pound sacks of rice and beans； cases of protein bars； baby food formula； and more。 Water trucks circulated。 It was almost as if the government were fattening them。 Or keeping them pinned in place。
Nathan Lee trekked deeper toward the center。 He wished for one of the bicycles hissing past； but resisted the urge to steal one。 He reached DuPont Circle next morning； after a night spent in a dry fountain with other tramps。 He told himself not to be excited。 But the great spoke of streets led directly to the row of Victorian townhouses where Ochs once lived。
The professor was long gone。 Squatters had taken over the entire neighborhood。 Nathan Lee walked back and forth a few times； getting a feel for the place。 Laundry hung like festive banners from the lines rigged between windows and trees。 A mountain of garbage clogged the alley。 Women chattered and breastfed their babies。 Children swung in a tire hanging from a tree limb。 Girls skipped rope。
A young woman sat on the front steps bouncing her baby on her knees。 Her eyes were filled with love。 He crossed the street and went to her。 〃I'm looking for my little girl；〃 he said。 He opened his storybook to the picture of Grace。 By now； the photo was nearly featureless。 What the mountain and jails had not ruined； the sea had。 〃She and her mother used to live here。〃
〃Not no more。〃
He held out the book with the ruined photo。 〃Her uncle's name was Ochs。 Maybe they left some clue where they went。〃
The girl's eyes flickered at his book。 〃Never seen her。 Can't see that anyway。〃
〃It spoiled；〃 he said。
〃Well； she ain't here。〃
〃I've e a long way；〃 he said。 〃Before it's too late。〃
She tucked her baby close at his 〃too late。〃 Nathan Lee regretted his words。 He closed the book。 〃I need to go in that townhouse there；〃 he said。
〃I'd leave；〃 she said。 〃The men will whip you； you still loitering tonight。〃
〃Well； I can't leave。〃
〃My； that's brave。〃
〃No；〃 he said。 〃I have nowhere else to begin。〃
〃Let him up；〃 a woman said from the upper window。 She had tight cropped hair and a straight neck。
〃But Mama； Gerald says these people。。。。〃
〃The man wants to find his baby；〃 said the woman。
Nathan Lee went up the stairs。 The door opened。 The woman was regal and lean； young to be a grandmother。
〃Thank you；〃 he said to the woman。 He held out his hand； but she didn't take it。 It wasn't rude。 It was the times。
Ochs would have been pleased。 The wood floors were scratched a bit； otherwise the place was as spotless as he'd kept it。 It was changed； naturally。 The 20；000 killims were gone。 Green plants stood where his porcelain vases and pre…Columbian statues once resided。 One wall held a small； very old photo of a black family。 Nathan Lee was drawn to it。
〃My people。 They were slaves。〃 The woman said it primly。 Nathan Lee understood。 She had no apologies for being here。 〃The house was empty when we arrived。 I placed any keepsakes in a box； out of respect。〃 She led the way to a closet。
He carried the box into the kitchen。 The stainless steel refrigerator and oven sparkled。 A propane hot plate sat on the polished granite countertop。 Little sprouts of dill and basil were growing in egg cartons on the window sill。 It smelled of bacon and eggs and coffee。 He opened the box。
〃He was a pornographer；〃 she said。 〃I am old…fashioned。 His collection of pictures and magazines； those things I destroyed。〃
〃Of course；〃 said Nathan Lee。 His hand was shaking。 He laid the contents out on the countertop。 There was more than he had expected； but also less。 All his letters from jail were here； addressed to Grace Swift； bundled together with a string。 Discarded。 There were ticket stubs to the theater； restaurant receipts； Ochs's membership card in the NRA； and catalogs for art auctions； deer hunting； and interior design。 He went through the evidence； rooting for a forwarding address； a phone bill with an area code； anything to further his search。 He came to a MotoPhoto envelope and his breath caught。 The photos were gone； but the