They trundled four barrows, two holding weapons, one the body of Vine and one Cocoa Bean, conscious now but very feeble. They moved from dark to glare to dark, because the floodlighting on the quays was not uniform, and they made no special attempt at stealth except for Mace and Manioc, scouting ahead among the warehouses. There were no other movements on the quays, and few lights showing among the huddled shanties on the cliff—all the life of the harbour had been sucked up into the glitter and rush of Carnival in the town above. Only the long windows of the palace laid great golden bars of light along the rock and were reflected almost as steadily from the water. “We might get Doctor O just now,” murmured someone. “Gone,” said someone else. “Up in town.” “Old Woman too—she never missing a Carnival.” “I didn’t see any helicopters on the airstrip,” said Foxe. “Hear what Doc say?”
