“There’s a pot, but there’s also an inside-outhouse down the hall—or, that’s what Miss Lucy calls it. This way.” He pointed out the door and to the right. “It’s not far. There’s a basin in there, too, if you want to clean up a bit.” Houjin said it like a hint.

Rector took it like one. “All right, that sounds fine. Could I talk you into getting me one more cup of water while I’m down there?”

“I’ll dip one out.”

“Thanks,” Rector said over his shoulder. The trip down the hall was slower than he’d have liked, but every step felt like an accomplishment. When he’d finished in the inside-outhouse he returned to what he’d started thinking of as the “sickroom,” and drank one last draught of water before following Houjin in the other direction.

“Where are we going, again?” he wanted to know.

“Kitchen.”

“But we’re underground, ain’t we?”

Houjin nodded, then paused to let Rector catch up. He walked as fast as he talked, unless he remembered not to. “The kitchen has vents up to the topside, and we have a stove or two for cooking, but people don’t use them often. Sometimes Miss Lucy does, and brings food down to Maynard’s for her customers. But usually meals are cold, unless people want to go to Chinatown. We cook there all the time.”

“Never had any China food.”

“You wouldn’t want to walk there, not in your shape. And the carts running between them … they’re mostly for supplies, not people. I have an idea about that, though…” he said. He almost picked up his pace, as if his bright idea were fuel that moved him even more swiftly, but remembered Rector in time to keep from launching down the corridor like a firecracker. “I think we should use pump cars down here, like they do on the railroads above. We have a few, but not enough to keep a regular set of routes.”

“I’ve seen those. I know what you mean.”

“Or maybe streetcars. Not diesel ones like Texas makes—there isn’t anywhere for the exhaust to go; it’d make everyone sick. But maybe something crank powered. The neighborhoods aren’t very far apart, but if you’re injured or carrying something, it’s a hard hike. And we can’t have horses and carts down here, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Rector echoed. Then he wondered aloud, “Wait, why not? Any special reason, other than that horses don’t like living underground?”

Houjin paused and considered this. “Horses don’t do stairs very well. And no one wants to clean up all the shit, and it’s hard enough to feed people, let alone horses. Anyway, the Blight is funny, what it does to animals.”

“It kills them, don’t it? Same as people?”