“Good. And I’m not feeling like a secret agent yet, either. Your bosses know that DOPS spells ‘dopes,’ right?”

“Yeah, and they’re pretty sensitive about it. Management tried changing the name a few times, but the science wing of the DOPS is pretty stuck on it. Can’t say I blame them. I mean, no one even knows how the Stalin cyborgs work yet.”

“You have commie cyborgs?”

Giselle held her hand up over her head. “Yeah, big bastards. They’ve been around since the forties. Laser eyes. Bushy mustaches. They look just like Uncle Joe, only bigger. Like tractors with legs.”

Coop craned his head around. “Are there any robots down here?”

“Cyborgs.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Cyborgs are cooler.”

“Thanks for clearing it up.”

“The only metal men I’ve seen down here were some knights. I think they’re old Templars. They busk over by the tapas place and bum cigarettes off people.”

“You know, I could wait in the car while you do your sleuthing. I promise not to run away and only listen to NPR on the radio.”

Giselle shook her head. “No way. This is part of your job and your education. You’re part of Peculiar Science now. Get used to it.”

“I’m going to need a few drinks before that happens.”

“We’ll get you a Roy Rogers when we find Babylon’s bar.”

The next floor was one of the wet levels Giselle had talked about. Mist drifted down from the top of the escalator. As Coop stepped off, he was lost in a warm fog. Giselle reached back and took his hand, pulling him along. That felt funny, her hand in his. He couldn’t see much of the floor, but what he saw didn’t make any more sense than the lobby. It looked liked they were on the edge of an enormous swamp. There were some goblins that reminded him of Rodney. People with tentacles for arms, and some of the gill people he’d seen downstairs. Distant fires. Blue will-o’-the wisps glided back and forth through the mist. Off to the side, Coop was sure he could see a frozen yogurt stand.

The next floor up was one of the dry floors. Coop had to shield his eyes from the bright sunlike orb at the top of the white rotunda. The one thing he could see that made sense was a Sunglass Hut nearby. The rest of the floor looked like Death Valley. Enormous serpent-things slithered through the sand. Robed people wandered over the dunes with bags from shoe shops and toy stores.

When they reached the next floor—a regular one like the lobby—Coop was still a little sun dazzled. While Giselle showed Babylon’s picture to a couple of horned mall cops, he looked around. He hadn’t felt quite so lost since his arrest.