I managed to find an exit from the massive library by taking a route through the richly furnished rare books section and executive suite of the Chief Librarian.
Outside the streets of New York were flooded. I had no choice but to paddle up the road to my next destination. Some were worse off than me, however. I saw an old man frantically calling for help as he struggled against the water in the middle of a major thoroughfare. When it was clear that nobody nearer would respond to his pleas, I swam out to rescue him.
Afterwards I gave the on-lookers a piece of my mind, taking down names and employers of those who would have willingly watched a man drown. Amongst these was a young management consultant whose only redeeming feature was that he had read Gödel, Escher, Bach.