Craig would have risked much to identify the "they" Phil referred to, but he did not ask the question. As he watched the boy preparing the dimly lit room for the night, he felt sure Phil could be trusted. He was almost frighteningly mature for his age. The room was well hidden, for the once great library lay in a powdered ruin about it on all sides but a part of one. Only by accident or knowledge would a stranger recognize it in what was literally a world of rubble. During the moments of silence between the boy's volunteered statements, Craig tried to visualize the awful catastrophe that had befallen the old city. Piles of powdered masonry restricted his view greatly under the gathering night. He could see a scant city block through the window, but he knew the wreckage around them must extend for miles. "You don't have to worry, mister...." "Craig." "Mr. Craig. They don't come in here at night." "Radioactivity?" "Yes. Not right here, but all around, everywhere." "What?" "It's all around us. You go through it to get here, but you can't _stay_ anywhere but a few places like this." "How do you know all of these things, Phil?" "Oh, we know, all right. We had to find out." "You must have ion counters," he said in what he hoped was a casual tone. "We have lots of things." Craig was thoughtful for a minute. The boy was obviously on his guard now. "Those empty buildings?" Craig asked tentatively. "They built them too close," said the boy. It seemed to be a safe subject. "They built them up as close as they thought was safe. Space is very valuable here. But they built them too close." "Yet the 'we' you speak of live even closer?" The boy bit his lip and eyed him suspiciously in silence. "Look, kid," Craig said very deliberately, "I'm not a controller and I'm not interested in a bunch of petty thieves." The effect was just what he had intended. "We're _not_ thieves! And we're not traitors, either! We're...." The boy was almost in tears. Craig waited a moment, then continued in a soft voice. "Phil, I'm just beginning to realize what a rotten place Terra is. From just what I've seen--it isn't very much--I can imagine such a system producing a great many 'we' groups like yours. I don't know who you are or what you are, but you can't be any worse than what I've already seen of Terran officials. Tell me, kid, what's it all about? And is there any way out of here? I mean--_way_ out!" "You may tell him, Philip," said a quiet voice from the window entrance. "Like us, Philip, Mr. Craig is an enemy of tyranny, though he doesn't realize it yet." Craig instinctively jumped back to get out of range of the window, meanwhile feeling around for something that could be used as a weapon. But the boy ran to the silhouetted figure in the window. "Mr. Sam!" he cried eagerly.