"Look, kid, you better explain," said Craig. "You were right about somebody being after me, but I don't get the 'we' business. Or how you knew all about this." "All right, mister, but let's get away from here. Those guys won't come through to here, even if they find a way--I don't think. But they're gettin' smarter and you're pretty hot right now." The boy led the way to what appeared to be a completely demolished building. "Used to be the old library," he said. They circled the heap of plaster, brick, and twisted steel. On the other side Craig saw what appeared to be a window. The boy let himself down through it. Craig was amazed to find a large, relatively clear area inside, probably part of an old room that had been spared by some freak of the blast. "You _live_ here?" Craig asked the youngster incredulously. "Part of the time." The boy brought up an old crate and offered it to Craig as a chair. "Listen, mister, I don't know who you are. You're an ex-spaceman and that's enough for me." There was a slightly amusing attempt at adult hardness about him. "You shouldn't have wasted time with Nave. You should have got out of there." "Why?" "I don't know. What you done, anyway?" "I don't remember. Passed out at a bar...." The boy showed disgust. He glanced at the pocket which contained the polyester. Craig smiled. "I don't use this stuff. At least not enough to deserve what you're thinking." He tossed the remaining cubes on the littered floor of the room. The boy maintained his look of scorn for a time, but then softened. "I was afraid you got kicked out of the service for that." "How did you know I was ever in it?" "Easy. You don't know how to walk on a planet yet. Anybody can tell." "I didn't get kicked out," Craig said. "I came here to take a civil service job." "It'd almost be better if you had been." "I didn't know about Terra. None of us had any idea." "I know," said the boy sadly. "My father quit, too. _He_ quit to marry my mother. That was before it was ... so bad." "Where--" Craig began, then bit off the question. "Oh, gee, mister, Terra's in an _awful_ bad shape! They took ... my parents. They hunt us down. They...." Craig approached the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. "What's your name, son?" "Phil." "Phil what?" "I don't know exactly. My father had to use so many names toward the ... end. He once had only one name, but I guess even he forgot what it was." * * * * * They prepared to spend the night in the old library room, but first Phil left it and made his way into the wilderness of rubble. He returned dragging a packing box of plastic insulating material, out of which they fashioned a crude bed. Despite the thousands of questions that paraded across Craig's mind, he waited each time for the boy to speak. "I can't take you any further until...." "Until you know more about me?" "In a way. _They'll_ let me know."