Barry downed his glass of green icy sewer water that numbed every nerve in his gums. He remembered Doug's acid tales.
  "What is this place?" asked Barry
  "A bootlegger bar," said Tab.
  "For bootlegging what? Not this stuff, I hope," Barry said, staring into the glass, where he suspected something had moved.
  "Time," said the bartender, who now wore an eye patch.
  "Time travel is illegal," said Tab, surveying the group of battered bar-goers, their rags, their drawn faces, and the coats of dust. "But people still do it. Made it illegal back in 2314, when some wise ass named Chronic almost blew up the fucking world. Didn't stop people though."