pursued.

Walking to the library almost killed Jason. The torrential rains made
the footing bad, and in the dim light it was hard to see what was
coming. A snapper came in close enough to take out a chunk of flesh
before he could blast it. The antitoxin made him dizzy and he lost some
blood before he could get the wound dressed. He reached the library,
exhausted and angry.

Poli was working on the guts of one of the catalogue machines. He didn't
stop until Jason had tapped him on the shoulder. Switching on his
hearing aid, the Pyrran stood quietly, crippled and bent, waiting for
Jason to talk.

"Have you any old papers or letters that you have kept for your personal
use?"

A shake of the head, _no_.

"What about stories--you know, about great things that have happened in
the past, that someone might have told you when you were young?"
Negative.

Results negative. Every question was answered by a shake of Poli's head,
and very soon the old man grew irritated and pointed to the work he
hadn't finished.

"Yes, I know you have work to do," Jason said. "But this is important."
Poli shook his head an angry _no_ and reached to turn off his hearing
aid. Jason groped for a question that might get a more positive answer.
There was something tugging at his mind, a word he had heard and made a
note of, to be investigated later. Something that Kerk had said ...

"That's it!" It was right there--on the tip of his tongue. "Just a
second, Poli, just one more question. What is a 'grubber'? Have you ever
seen one or know what they do, or where they can be found--"

The words were cut off as Poli whirled and lashed the back of his good
arm into Jason's face. Though the man was aged and crippled, the blow
almost fractured Jason's jaw, sending him sliding across the floor.
Through a daze he saw Poli hobbling towards him, making thick bubbling
noises in his ruined throat; what remained of his face twisted and
working with anger.

This was no time for diplomacy. Moving as fast as he could, with the
high-G, foot-slapping shuffle, Jason headed for the sealed door. He was
no match for any Pyrran in hand-to-hand combat, young and small or old
and crippled. The door thunked open, as he went through, and barely
closed in Poli's face.

Outside the rain had turned to snow and Jason trudged wearily through
the slush, rubbing his sore jaw and turning over the only fact he had.
_Grubber_ was a key--but to what? And who did he dare ask fo