Стража! Стража!

           "ButI’dbegratefulifyou’dwarnmefirstanothertime,allright?"

           "Certainly,sir."

           "Inwriting,Ithink."

           TheLibrarianswungon.Itwasslowprogress,becausetherewerethingshewasn’tkeenonmeeting.Creaturesevolvetofilleverynicheintheenvironment,andsomeofthoseinthedustyimmensityofL-spacewerebestavoided.Theyweremuchmoreunusualthanordinaryunusualcreatures.

           Usuallyhecouldforewarnhimselfbykeepingacarefuleyeonthekickstoolcrabsthatgrazedharmlesslyonthedust.Whentheywerespooked,itwastimetohide.Severaltimeshehadtoflattenhimselfagainsttheshelvesasathesaurusthunderedby.HewaitedpatientlyasaherdofCritterscrawledpast,grazingonthecontentsofthechoicerbooksandleavingbehindthempilesofsmallslimvolumesofliterarycriticism.Andtherewereotherthings,thingswhichhehurriedawayfromandtriednottolookhardat...

           Andyouhadtoavoidclichesatallcosts.

           Hefinishedthelastofhispeanutsatopastepladder,whichwasbrowsingmindlesslyoffthehighshelves.

           Theterritorydefinitelyhadafamiliarfeel,oratleasthegotthefeelingthatitwouldeventuallybefamiliar.TimehadadifferentmeaninginL-space.

           Therewereshelveswhoseoutlinehefeltheknew.Thebooktitles,whilestillunreadable,heldatantalisinghintoflegibility.Eventhemustyairhadasmellhethoughtherecognised.