"Ducks?"
She jerked her head down the tunnel, and they headed farther in, Valentine unconsciously falling into step. "They used to call me Daffy in school. Daffy Duck sometimes. I liked the Duck bit".
She took him down a worn old escalator. The new tunnel was even higher and wider than Grand Central. It was arched at the top, like a cathedral, and twin banks of lights shone down on small trees and grass running the length of the Mall. Valentine heard a fountain roaring somewhere. Bars, eateries, shops, movie booths, even a massive gallery piled with used books, lined the Mall. Valentine heard a pounding and hard breathing, looked up, and saw a walkway running above at treetop level, its railing thick with plant boxes. Joggers were running up there.
"I use the pool, myself. Warm as a summer lake, not that I've had a chance to swim in one. Let's break in John Bull's".
Valentine guessed it was an English-style pub, as there was a picture of Winston Churchill he recognized on the wall, and some black-and-whites of Congress being addressed. Behind the bar in a place of honor was a high blue helmet that reminded Valentine of an oversized egg.
"Two fry-ups and two shakes, Walther", she told the barkeep. She led Valentine to a back booth. His strange clothing was drawing stares from the Omegans in their scrublike paper clothing.
"Beer, Ducks?"
"No".
A server wiped their already-clean table and they sat.
"I'm just so eager for news of Outside. Tell me anything and everything", Ducks said.
"Ummm... where should I start?"
"How about Operation Archangel?" she asked.
Valentine took strange comfort in the fact that she'd heard of it. "I didn't see much of it".
"We had... I can't remember exactly how many, but several all-night sessions.
Had this whole place buzzing like a beehive. Not that I've seen one".
"Really? Go up to the old airfield. I heard a bunch in the engine housing of one of those big jets".
"I guess they keep bees in some of the agro areas Outside, but on my vacations I usually just go to the river".
"Why were there all-night sessions? Trying to get other areas to join in?"
"State handles that. No, we were upholding the legality of the operation pending".
"Pending what?"
"Restoration of constitutional civilian authority".
The meal arrived, a couple of fried, sliced tomatoes, a few French fries, and a breaded something about the size of a small sausage. Two big pint glasses came with it, thick with something that looked like a strawberry milk shake.
"Here's to it", Valentine said, lifting a glass. He tried a sip. It tasted like someone had tossed ice and old newspapers into a blender, then added a little syrup.
"Takes some getting used to. I'm told the flavoring is strawberry".
Valentine waited for the "Not that I ever had one", but it never came.
The server was already long gone, arguing at another table that Representative Mowbrarun's credit wouldn't buy a shot of pickling juice.
"What's really in it?"
"Mostly fiber-powdered vitamin supplement. It leaves you feeling full, anyway".
Valentine tried the fried whatever, mostly ground-up bean paste and gristle, he guessed. Ducks went on: "I never get invited to the good parties anymore because I still support the military, as does the senator".
"Who else is going to get rid of the Kurians?"