Okay. Third, final, and scariest option: use the stuff myself, at least some of it. The girl’s ID might do for me, maybe good enough to get me through some checkpoints, score some proper clothing, maybe other uptown stuff. I’d have to clean up a lot, but we were a good match in age and stature. Okay, she looked a lot better fed, but was it our resemblance she’d noted when her gaze caught mine? She wouldn’t have seen, with it shoved under my street cap, that my hair was the same blond as hers. I could grow mine out and practice looking naïve. Rube would say I already had that down pat.

About those lottery winners. Rube emphasized how no good had come of their sudden unearned luck. But after all I’d been through, didn’t I deserve a little extra? And given the horrors going on in this town, this country, this whole wrecked world, how could taking a bit more than my share, just this once, rank high on the scale of evils?

My gut churned. Easy up, Glim. You don’t want to toss all over your bunk.

Who was this person who’d taken over? Didn’t I owe Rousseau and the den my life?

Go slow. Step by step.

Say I did use the tickets—where would I end up? Blinded by the glare of all the stamps and visas, I hadn’t registered the final destination. I paged through the itinerary: Jersey Archipelago, Scranton International, Denver International, then four places I’d never heard of, each leg involving a smaller and more primitive mode of transportation. The last one said simply “Arkadia” and named a road intersection to stand at until “a friend came by.”

Arkadia? A friend?

Sounded like code to me. Or bullshit. My street skepticism kicked in, but then I pictured the girl again, taking on two built-up young toughs and holding her own. Like, if the documents were worthless, why would she have gone to all that trouble?

Just had to figure it out.

SIX

Voices along the tier yanked me out of my wild pondering. The victory celebrants, turning in at last. I scurried to gather up the papers and stuff them into my gut wallet.

“. . . an’ there’s no friggin’ water!”

“Why it says just three showers at a time . . .”

“Hahaha! The las’ one went all down his front!”

No bothering to keep the racket down. The whole tier shuddered as they clambered up to their bunks. If I’d been asleep, I’d sure be awake now.

Some of the muttering and banging stopped down below me. Rubio kicking at the dried mud from Peeto’s shoes and complaining louder than usual.

I nosed through my drapes and leaned over the edge. “Had a few?”

Rubio flopped a hand back and forth. “Eh.”

“Didya buy Louka one?”