Star quest

a runaway?"
    "I-"
    "Well, there are three radar blips approaching from your rear. Before they pick you up, I suggest you conceal yourself."
    He swallowed again—as figuratively as the first time— and jetted gently to the giant cube that sparkled like polished brass. The portals swung open like the jaws of a massive alligator, revealing a warm, blue-lighted interior. He cut all engines and coasted in on the built-up thrust, breaking now and then with chemical retro-rockets. He cleared the sill and sides of the door easily. When all of J-10 was in and had grated noisily against the floor plates of the storage room, the mouth he had entered closed, gobbling up the last traces of him. "Romaghin, I see," the library said. "Not by birth!"
    "Of course not. Oh goodness, no. They wouldn't use their own people for something like that. Tell me, how did you come to realize what you were—rather, who?"
    "I found, since my discovery, an empty vial and a useless system of narcotic baths. From the looks of it, my vial ran out ahead of schedule."
    "I see. Oh, this is good. Very good!"
    "Yeah, well, I just want to find Tamilee."
    "Tamilee?"
    Visions of sugary fantasies…
    "Yeah. My woman."
    "Oh my. Very grand. Heroic quest and all. Marvelous, marvelous."
    "So I thought you might tell me how to find her."
    "Well, I wouldn't know about this particular young lady. But you could study up on Romaghin culture, learn something of the truth about them. I imagine you come from a primitive world, for that's how they get most of their Jumbo brains—to the consternation of the Science League. You'll need a great deal of educating to understand what might have happened to this Tarnilee."
    "Tarnilee."
    "Yes, Tarnilee. You'll need a great deal of educating, nonetheless, to understand what might have happened to her and what avenues of action might be open to you. Read the books on Romaghin culture, the
History of the Century
, volumes six through twelve, and the daily papes for the past month."
    "Lead me to them."
    "You'll be interested in the latest escapades of the Muties. Papes are full of it Exciting stuff. They say the Fringe is actually beginning to wave negative under Mutie pressure and the shell molecule is rupturing in many cases, though total success has yet been denied them."
    "What?" That had sounded like nothing so much as doubletalk, trickspeak, or some such ruse.
    The library was silent a moment. "Oh, I guess you
wouldn't
be interested. You wouldn't know about the Muties and all"
    "Muties?"
    "We'll educate you. That's it. You'll learn all the wonders of this galaxy. I—" the giant cube said, slipping into a soft, confidential tone, "am secretly in favor of what the Muties are doing."
    "Yeah, well, if I could find out about Tami—"
    "REPORT!" a familiar voice snapped, shaking the hull.
    "Oh dear," the library said "I think we have guests outside."

Chapter Two
    "WHAT ARE THEY going to do?"
    "Leave this to me," the library said. He thought it giggled.
    "YOU, FLOATING LIB SEVEN, REPORT!"
    "Yes, sirs," the library said reverently. "Can I help you? Reading material, research, news?"
    "INFORMATION!"
    "Yes, sirs?"
    "WE WERE MONITORING A JUMBO, A RENEGADE FROM ROMAGHIN. HE DISAPPEARED FROM OUR SCOPES IN THIS AREA."
    "Yes, sirs. Witnessed that, I did. Said to myself, said, now that looks like a bit of chicanery. Doesn't look good, I says."
    "WHAT DIDNT LOOK GOOD?"
    "A Setessin freighter scooped him up. Came in behind me, shielding itself from you gentlemen, and took him."
    There was a moment of silence while the three Jumbos conferred among themselves and with the Generals hack home. "WHICH WAY DID THIS FREIGHTER GO?" one of them asked at length.
    "It seemed to plot off toward that quadrant containing
ypsilon
Sagittarü."
    "YOU CANT BE MORE SPECIFIC?"
    "No, sir. I was much too alarmed by the fleet of battle cruisers hanging farther out, waiting for the freighter to return."
    "BATTLE CRUISERS?" the voice said.
    "Faint dots. Standing pretty far off. Maybe a dozen."
    "UH, WELL-" the voice said haltingly. It was obviously manned by a Romaghin who was preempting the primitive brain and controlling the machine.
    "I knew you would want to search out the blackguards and teach them a lesson," the library went on.
    "WELL, WE'RE A LITTLE TOO BUSY AT THE MOMENT," the Romaghin replied, picturing the dozen cruisers with their hundreds of guns and impenetrable shells. Then they were evidently recalled, for the blast of their rockets echoed dully