He is cold and thirsty. He does not want to drink any more of the foul-smelling water, for he fears that it may be poisoned. However, he feels that he has no choice but to slake his thirst now, while he has the chance, for he has not passed a single spring and he has no idea where the Newyorkcities draw their water. Having caught his breath, he lies on his belly on the rocks and drinks; the water tastes terrible, but it dulls his thirst.
Veil rises, turns, and starts to walk toward the nearest building. He has gone only a few steps when he stops and tenses as a sleepy-looking Newyorkcity emerges from one of the buildings and begins walking almost directly toward him on one of the stone paths. Veil grips the shaft of his spear but does not draw the head from its wrapping of clothes.
The man barely glances at Veil. "Good morning," he says, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
Veil senses no threat in the man's tone or bearing, and he allows him to pass by. "Go in peace," he says softly.
It is growing lighter. Veil puts his bundle under his arm and moves toward a space between two buildings.
"Hey, you! Where the hell do you think you're going?"
This voice, coming from Veil's left, is definitely threatening. Veil quickly places his bundle on the ground, pulls the spear free, and wheels to find a Newyorkcity warrior, dressed in blue clothes and carrying a bang-stick, running toward him. Knowing that his spear is useless against a bang-stick, Veil picks up the bundle and sprints in the opposite direction, along the side of the building.
"Stop, you son of a bitch, or I'll shoot your black ass!"
Veil rounds the building, races to the end, turns left, and runs down a lane of grass bounded by the river and the building. He sees a narrow opening, ducks into it. The passageway reeks of rotting, unburied scraps of food, but there are piles of battered metal objects behind which he can hide. He crouches down behind three of the objects and waits, spear held ready, certain that he can kill his attacker at close range.
The enemy warrior appears at the entrance to the passageway a few seconds later. The man's face is flushed, and Veil can hear the breath rasping in his lungs. The hand holding the bang-stick is shaking as the man moves slowly into the passageway.
Veil is about to leap out and hurl his spear when the warrior suddenly stops. He wipes a glistening sheen of sweat from his face, then begins to back away.
"Shit. I'm not about to risk my ass on a part-time job. Fuck him."
Veil smiles grimly and allows himself to relax as the Newyorkcity disappears from sight. He rearranges his bundle into a sling that he can once again carry around his neck, then looks up and squints into the bright sunlight at the end of the passageway. The light makes his head ache and his eyes burn. He is beginning to feel sick and dizzy, and he knows that he must quickly find a place to go to ground.
Directly above his head is a metal structure with small platforms that project from the side of the building. He might be able to go to ground on top of the building, he thinks. He leaps for the bottom of the metal structure, grips it, and is pleasantly surprised when a portion of the structure swings down, making it simple for him to climb; as he does so, the bottom portion of the structure swings back into its original position.
Veil lies down on the sticky, pebbled surface on top of the building and stares out over Newyorkcity. This land is so vast, he thinks, so strange. In all directions, buildings thrust toward the sky; countless cars speed along on countless streets, which crisscross and stretch into the distance as far as he can see. . . .
Suddenly, without warning, his entire body spews sweat, and he feels his insides begin to churn. Something is terribly wrong with him, Veil thinks, and he quickly removes his cloak and loincloth so as not to soil himself. Then he vomits, and he continues retching long after there is nothing left in his stomach. He collapses on his right side, gasping for breath—and then the process begins all over again.
At last, exhausted and barely able to see, Veil drags himself away from the soiled area, then collapses in a pool of his own sweat and passes out.
In Veil's dream, his Toby awakens groggy and disoriented. Then he remembers: The Newyorkcities are after him and he is sick—probably from poisoned water. But he must go on.
Veil tries to stand but cannot. He loses track of time as he lies sprawled on the hot surface, only half conscious. His flesh burns, and he cannot remember ever being so thirsty; he is so thirsty, Veil thinks, that he would even drink more of the poisoned water—if only he could get to it.
He must go on. If he remains where he is, the Newyorkcities will eventually find and kill him. He must go on. Suddenly it is night, although Veil's Toby does not remember sleeping. He does not know how much time has passed since he climbed to the top of the building, and his fever-thirst is now so great that his swollen tongue fills the back of his throat, making it difficult for him to swallow and breathe.
He stinks of sickness.
"Give me strength, Nal-toon," he murmurs.
He struggles to his knees, then laboriously rises to his feet. Sweat oozes in great drops from his pores, rolls and gathers into a shining film; his flesh steams in the cool night air. He sways, but manages to remain standing, leaning on his spear for support, he hitches the sling over his shoulder and staggers across the top of the building to the metal structure. Slowly he descends, concentrating intently on each hand- and foothold.
On the ground he moves unsteadily off to his left, then crosses a narrow bridge that spans this arm of the river. The sight and sound of the water playing against his jagged thirst is almost overwhelming, but Veil now has second thoughts about drinking it; the Nal-toon will not reward him for stupidity or weakness, he thinks, and he must search for sweet water to cool his fever and purge his body. He manages to align himself with a chosen landmark, staggers on.
Eventually he staggers into a small clearing surrounded by trees. However, the area is too small to offer sanctuary—most of it is open, in full view of Newyorkcities in cars on the bridge overhead.
Veil moves around the perimeter of the clearing, then stops and begins to tremble with hope and anticipation when he hears the sound of splashing water. He moves quickly toward the sound and discovers, near a tree, a strange structure of stone and metal. Water spouts from the center of the structure. He has no idea where the water comes from, for he can see no spring anywhere nearby. He assumes it is but another example of the Newyorkcities' magic, a place where Newyorkcities drink. This water will be sweet.
When he has looked around and satisfied himself that there are no Newyorkcities in the area, Veil moans and runs to the water. Supporting himself with his hands against the stone base, he thrusts his face into the cool, cascading water and drinks.
He drinks until he vomits, then repeats the process again and again; he knows that he must purge his body of as much of the poison river water as possible. Eventually he begins to drink more sparingly. When he has finally slaked his thirst, he uses handfuls of the clear water to wash his body.