The Library was one of the main lodgings for guests of the new government, and it stayed pretty full. Donny figured the only reason he got a room was so they could keep an eye on him. And when he got to his room, he saw that someone had been looking through the files he left out on the little desk, and made little attempt to hide the fact, and he doubted it was the housekeeping staff.

In the evenings at the Library, after enjoying the bounteous meals of real food on offer in the mess, people hung out in the common areas. New Orleans still had a nightlife of sorts, but nothing like before, so visitors mostly had to come up with their own entertainment. When Donny went back down thinking he could sit in a comfortable chair and have just one drink and a quick dinner before returning to his prep for the day to come, he found the lobby had been taken over by the international association of hydrological engineers. They weren’t an official association—just a dozen experts in the field from around the world who were excited to help out with this experiment in learning how to coexist with a massive river that had burst its banks and would never go back. Volunteers, basically, given room and board, interesting work, a small stipend, and the joy of being part of the project. An equal mix of men and women, nice but kind of dorky. So he tried sitting there for a while devouring his meatless muffuletta while they shared a bottle of bespoke Bywater absinthe and quickly got to work on driving Donny crazy with a guitar and melodica duo playing folk songs of the world. When they started playing the Wade Camacho songs, and really getting into it, Donny decided it was time to go into the actual library part of the Library and get to work.

They had his three boxes of files on loan set up there at one of the old library tables. First, he pulled out the notes he had made while looking over the files with the researchers that afternoon.