On Clinch Street, little Sally Odum was walking home from school. She turned down an alley for a shortcut, and there she saw the toy. It was a black, fringed globe, a little larger than a grapefruit. "Gee!" exclaimed Sally, and reached out and grabbed it.
The globe changed from black to gray, from shiny to dull, and from firm to flaccid. Sally felt a little tingle in her fingertips, a tiny tug in her mind. Looking thoughtful, she slipped the limp toy under her jacket. She trotted home, hid the thing at the bottom of her toy box, and promptly forgot about ever finding it.
Minnn, exhausted from the psionic strain of rolling his body through the thick earth air all the way from the port to the city, and then directing the feeling and movement of Sally, made one little adjustment in her memory, then turned off his awareness and rested. In the rich rush of mental currents he would soon be replenished. In the meantime he was safe....
The Ravian had given Chester Forge two days to find Minnn. A day had passed and nothing had happened. He had kept things quiet, up to now. There was no indication his quiet search would produce anything. It was time for a different tactic....
Sally Odum's father looked up from the news-sheets that had just come off the clicker. "Mary, did you see these items about the Ravian loose in the city?"
His wife was playing chack with Sally. The child had beaten her four games running, and Mary was just beginning to wonder if she was mother to a genius. A mother does not appreciate interruption of such musings. "Ah—no," she answered absently. "What about um?"
"Seems this bird—Minnn's his tag—is thought to be hiding out in some human around town. He forced."