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. He shoved the photo at Thorby. "Look at it. Memorize it."
"Why?"
Baslim pulled it back. "Would you recognize that man?"
"Uh . . . let me see it again."
"You've got to know him. Look at it well this time."
Thorby did so, then said, "All right. I'll know him."
"He'll be in one of the taprooms near the port. Try Mother Shaum's first, then the Supernova and the Veiled Virgin. If you don't hit, work both sides of Joy Street until you do. You've got to find him before the third hour."
"Ill find him, Pop."
"When you do, put this thing in your bowl along with a few coins. Then tell him the tale but be sure to mention that you are the son of Baslim the Cripple."
"Got it, Pop."
"Get going."
Thorby wasted no time getting down to the port. It was the morning following the Feast of the Ninth Moon and few were stirring; he did not bother to pretend to beg en route, he simply went the most direct way, through back courts, over fences, or down streets, avoiding only the sleepy night patrol. But, though he reached the neighborhood quickly, he had the Old One's luck in finding his man; he was in none of the dives Baslim had suggested, nor did the rest of Joy Street turn him up. It was pushing the deadline and Thorby was getting worried when he saw the man come out of a place he had already tried.
Thorby ducked across the street, came up behind him
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