Cat’s furrowed brow proclaimed his inner debate. There was nothing he could do to hurt Dodger physically. But he could cripple Dodger where it would hurt severely, in his curiosity. If Cat walked away with whatever mysterious bit of information he hoarded, Dodger would have no alternative but to go to Grandmother, who might or might not have the data. It would be an expensive proposition that would take time— time to gather the funds and time during which the elf would have no idea of what he labored to earn. Dodger watched the runner carefully, wondering if his desire for the data was as painfully obvious as Cat’s need for nuyen. He thought not. After all, he was nowhere near as young or inexperienced as Cat.