The fat man took a deep breath or two, said, "Just a minute, Son," and turned around. "You want something?"

The tallest of the Lhari—the old one, whom Bart had seen on the escalator—looked long and hard at him. When they spoke Universal, their voices were sibilant, but not nearly so inhuman.

"Could we trrrouble you to sssshow us your paperrrssss?"

"Certainly." Nonchalantly, the fat man dug them out and handed them over. Bart saw his father's name printed across the top.

The Lhari gestured to a Mentorian interpreter: "What colorrr isss thisss man's hairrr?"

The Mentorian said in the Lhari language, "His hair isgray." He used the Universal word; there were, of course, no words for colors in the Lhari speech.

"The man we sssseek has hair ofred," said the Lhari. "And he isss tall, not fat."

"The boy is tall and withredhair," the Mentorian volunteered, and the old Lhari made a gesture of disdain.

"This boy is twenty years younger than the man whose description came to us. Why did they not give us a picture or at least a name?" He turned to the other Lhari and said in their own shrill speech, "I suspected this man because he was alone. And I had seen this boy on the upper mezzanine and spoken with him. We watched him, knowing sooner or later the father would seek him. Ask him." He gestured and the Mentorian said, "Who is this man, you?"