“Picture a hollow glass tube. A skyscraper beaker. At the bottom there will be a giant valve connecting the building to the sewers, and through the sewers, to the ocean. And one day, when conditions are right, the cabal will open the valve and seawater will rush in and fill the tower all the way to the top. That’s how they’ll take us over.”

“And who’s behind this construction?” Mitchell asked.

“Elite seals.”

“Lenny, have you ever talked to an engineer in your whole life? Factually I know you have, but based on that explanation it’s as if you have no idea about infrastructure, architecture, or sea animals. Reality is not a system of tubes.”

“You dromedaries are content to ignore the threat. But when the waters have risen up to your neck, you’ll be kicking yourself, Mitchell.”

“I’ll be too busy dog-paddling to kick myself.”

Old Spots had gotten riled. “Listen, fur-ass. I’m telling you the sea is coming for the city. I know animals in construction, and a huge tank is feasible. I know what I know.”

Mitchell felt compelled to wind the pig up a twist more. “This is neither here nor there, but dromedaries are camels, and I’m, I mean, we’re related to camels, but…”

The pig wasn’t listening.

“Never mind. What position do you think I should be taking about floorless buildings?”

Old Spots glanced down the hall before closing the door behind him. He enjoyed behaving as if life were a thriller. “Now, I know you and I don’t always see eye to eye, but I think, as land animals who work for the state, and as just, well, honorable animals, we’ve got to protect our kind. I’ve been hearing that rents are rising because developers are investing in these luxury tank projects. They’re hiding the sea all around us. It’s a plot.”

Since the hurricane, many land animals had taken to blaming the sea for every woe. They complained about waves and storms. The Post found ways to link the seas to everything from avian flu to volcanic eruptions. If you listened to right-wing radio, the sea was somehow the source of fleas and mange, mold and bad dreams. There were all sorts of crazy conspiracies.

Old Spots was convinced that there was a secret sea organization bent on destroying first New York, then eventually all dry land. He believed that various land mammals were in collusion with a cabal of whales, dolphins, and seals working to annihilate everything he loved. Whenever he wanted to criticize some cat, goat, or bird, he insinuated that they were an agent of the sea. Mitchell could not convince the pig that this was a bigoted idea.

“But oceans already cover seventy percent of the Earth.”

“Those extremists won’t be happy until they’ve gotten it all.”

“How do you think they’re going to ‘attack’?”