Lewis knew where he was. The Chocolate Mountains walled off the rushing Colorado River from the Imperial Valley and Los Angeles farther on. "Thanks," Lewis said. "How's the war going these days?" Betty asked. The prospector scratched his head and replaced his felt hat. He looked at them oddly. "You must have been holed up in the hills a long time, Miss. There ain't been any war for two years. They started one, but the first couple of days scared everybody too much and they called the whole thing off. Where you folks been anyways, to the Moon?" "Practically," Lewis said. As the jeep moved away, Nemerov turned and looked back at the Monster and the old prospector who still stood there gazing at it. "'My name,'" Nemerov said, "'is Ozymandias, King of Kings. Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair. Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare the lone and level sands stretch far away.'" End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Security, by Bryce Walton