Transcriber's note:

Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the United Statescopyright on this publication was renewed. 

LEGACY

BY JAMES H. SCHMITZ

AUTHOR OF _THE WITCHES OF KARRES_

(ORIG. TITLE: A TALE OF TWO CLOCKS)

MEET TRIGGER ARGEE.... 

Half a block from the shopping center, a row of spacers on planet-leavecame rollicking cheerily toward her.... Trigger shifted toward the edgeof the sidewalk to let them pass. As the line swayed up on her left, there was a shadowy settling of an aircar at the curb to her right. 

With loud outcries of glad recognition and whoops of laughter, the lineswung in about her, close. Bodies crowded against her, a hand wasclapped over her mouth. Other hands held her arms. Her feet came off theground and she had a momentary awareness of being rushed expertlyforward. 

There was a lurching twist as the aircar shot upward. 

SHE'S ABOUT TO ENTER THE MYSTERY OF HER LIFE, IN

Legacy

 * * * * *

_Also by James H. Schmitz_

THE DEMON BREEDTHE UNIVERSE AGAINST HER

ACESCIENCEFICTION

 * * * * *

Legacy

JAMES H. SCHMITZ

SF

ace books

A Division of Charter Communications Inc. A GROSSET & DUNLAP COMPANY360 Park Avenue SouthNew York, New York 10010

LEGACY

Originally published asA TALE OF TWO CLOCKS

An ACE Book

_Cover art by Bob Adragna_

First Ace printing: May 1979

Printed in U. S. A

 * * * * *

This book is dedicated affectionatelyto my father

 * * * * *

1

It was the time of sunrise in Ceyce, the White City, placidly beautifulcapital of Maccadon, the University World of the Hub. 

In the Colonial School's sprawling five-mile complex of buildings andtropical parks, the second student shift was headed for breakfast, whilea larger part of the fourth shift moved at a more leisurely rate towardtheir bunks. The school's organized activities were not much affected bythe hour, but the big exercise quadrangle was almost deserted for once. Behind the railing of the firing range a young woman stood by herself, gun in hand, waiting for the automatic range monitor to select a newstring of targets for release. 

She was around twenty-four, slim and trim in the school's comfortablehiking outfit. Tan shirt and knee-length shorts, knee stockings, soft-soled shoes. Her sun hat hung on the railing, and the dawn windwhipped strands of shoulder-length, modishly white-silver hair along hercheeks. She held a small, beautifully worked handgun loosely besideher--the twin-barrelled sporting Denton which gunwise citizens of theHub rated as a weapon for the precisionist and expert only. Ininstitutions like the Colonial School it wasn't often seen. 

At the exact instant the monitor released its new flight of targets, shebecame aware of the aircar gliding down toward her from theadministration buildings on the right. Startled, she glanced sidewayslong enough to identify the car's two occupants, shifted her attentionback to the cluster of targets speeding toward her, studied the flightpattern for another unhurried half-second, finally raised the Denton. The little gun spat its noiseless, invisible needle of destruction eighttimes. Six small puffs of crimson smoke hung in the air. The tworemaining targets swerved up in a mocking curve and shot back to theirdischarge huts. 

The girl bit her lip in moderate annoyance, safetied and holstered thegun and waved her hand left-right at the range attendant to indicate shewas finished. Then she turned to face the aircar as it settled slowly tothe ground twenty feet away. Her gray eyes studied its occupantscritically. 

"Fine example you set the students!" she remarked. "Flying right into ahot gun range!"

Doctor Plemponi, principal of the Colonial School, smiled soothingly. "Eight years ago, your father bawled me out for the very same thing, Trigger! Much more abusively, I must say. You know that was my firstmeeting with old Runser Argee, and I--"

"Plemp!" Mihul, Chief of Physical Conditioning, Women's Division, cautioned sharply from the seat behind him. "Watch what you're doing, you ass!"

Confused, Doctor Plemponi turned to look at her. The aircar dropped thelast four feet to a jolting landing. Mihul groaned. Plemponi apologized. Trigger walked over to them. 

"Does he do that often?" she asked interestedly. 

"Every other time!" Mihul asserted. She was a tall, lean, muscular slabof a woman, around forty. She gave Trigger a wink behind Plemponi'sback. "We keep the chiropractors on stand-by duty when we go riding withPlemp. "

"Now then! Now then!" Doctor Plemponi said. "You distracted my attentionfor a moment, that's all. Now, Trigger, the reason we're here is thatMihul told me at our prebreakfast conference you weren't entirely happyat the good old Colonial School. So climb in, if you don't have muchelse to do, and we'll run up to the office and discuss it. " He openedthe door for her. 

"Much else to do!" Trigger gave him a look. "All right, Doctor. We'llrun up and discuss it. "

She went back for her sun hat, climbed in, closed the door and sat downbeside him, shoving the holstered Denton forward on her thigh. 

Plemponi eyed the gun dubiously. "Brushing up in case there's anothergrabber raid?" he inquired. He reached out for the guide stick. 

Trigger shook her head. "Just working off hostility, I guess. " Shewaited till he had lifted the car off the ground in a reckless swoop. "That business yesterday--it really was a grabber raid?"

"We're almost sure it was, " Mihul said behind her, "though I did hearsome talk they might have been after those two top-secret plasmoids inyour Project. "

"_That's_ not very likely, " Trigger remarked. "The raiders were a halfmile away from where they should have come down if the plasmoids werewhat they wanted. And from what I saw of them, they weren't nearly a bigenough gang for a job of that kind. "

"I thought so, too, " Mihul said. "They were topflight professionals, inany case. I got a glimpse of some of their equipment. Knockoutguns--foggers--and that was a fast car!"

"Very fast car, " Trigger agreed. "It's what made me suspicious when Ifirst saw them come in. "

"They also, " said Mihul, "had a high-speed interplanetary hopper waitingfor them in the hills. Two more men in it. The cops caught them, too. "She added, "They were grabbers, all right!"

"Anything to indicate whom they were after?" Trigger asked. 

"No, " Mihul said. "Too many possibilities. Twenty or more of thestudents in that area at the time had important enough connections toclass as grabber bait. The cops won't talk except to admit they weretipped off about the raid. Which was obvious. The way they popped up outof nowhere and closed in on those boys was a beautiful sight to see!"

"I, " Trigger admitted, "didn't see it. When that car homed in, I yelleda warning to the nearest bunch of students and dropped flat behind arock. By the time I risked a look, the cops had them. "

"You showed very good sense, " Plemponi told her earnestly. "I hope theyburn those thugs! Grabbing's a filthy business. "

"That large object coming straight at you, " Mihul observed calmly, "isanother aircar. In this lane it has the right of way. You do not havethe right of way. Got all that, Plemp?"

"Are you sure?" Doctor Plemponi asked her bewilderedly. "Confound it! Ishall blow my siren. "

He did. Trigger winced. "There!" Plemponi said triumphantly as the otherdriver veered off in fright. 

Trigger told herself to relax. Aircars were so nearly accident-proofthat even Plemponi couldn't do more than snarl up traffic in one. "Havethere been other raids in the school area since I left?" she asked, ashe shot up out of the quadrangle and turned toward the balcony of hisoffice. 

"That was just under four years ago, wasn't it?" Mihul said. "No, youwere still with us when we had the last one.... Six years back. Remember?"

Trigger did. Two students had been picked up on that occasion--sons ofsome Federation official. The grabbers had made a clean getaway, and ithad been several months later before she heard the boys had beenredeemed safely. 

Plemponi descended to a teetery but gentle landing on the officebalcony. He gave Trigger a self-satisfied look. "See?" he said tersely. "Let's go in, ladies. Had breakfast yet, Trigger?"

Trigger had finished breakfast a half-hour earlier, but she accepted acup of coffee. Mihul, all athlete, declined. She went over to Plemponi'sdesk and stood leaning against it, arms folded across her chest, calmblue eyes fixed thoughtfully on Trigger. With her lithe length of body, Mihul sometimes reminded Trigger of a ferret, but the tanned face was apleasant one and there was humor around the mouth. Even in Trigger'spregraduate days, she and Mihul had been good friends. 

Doctor Plemponi removed a crammed breakfast tray from a wall chef, tooka chair across from Trigger, sat down with the tray on his knees, excused himself, and began to eat and talk simultaneously. 

"Before we go into that very reasonable complaint you made to Mihulyesterday, " he said, "I wish you'd let me point out a few things. "

Trigger nodded. "Please do. "

"You, Trigger, " Plemponi told her, "are an honored guest here at theColonial School. You're the daughter of our late friend and colleagueRunser Argee. You were one of our star pupils--not just as a small-armsmedallist either. And now you're the secretary and assistant of thefamous Precolonial Commissioner Holati Tate--which makes you almost aparticipant in what may well turn out to be the greatest scientificevent of the century.... I'm referring, of course, " Plemponi added, "toTate's discovery of the Old Galactic plasmoids. "

"Of course, " agreed Trigger. "And what is all this leading up to, Plemp?"

He waved a piece of toast at her. "No. Don't interrupt! I still have topoint out that because of the exceptional managerial abilities yourevealed under Tate, you've been sent here on detached duty for thePrecolonial Department to aid the Commissioner and Professor Mantelishin the University League's Plasmoid Project. That means you're a prettyimportant person, Trigger! Mantelish, for all his idiosyncrasies, isundoubtedly the greatest living biologist in the League. And thePlasmoid Project here at the school is without question the League'smost important current undertaking. "

"So I've been told, " said Trigger. "That's why I want to find out what'sgone haywire with it. "

"In a moment, " Plemponi said. "In a moment. " He located his napkin, wiped his lips carefully. "Now I've mentioned all this simply to make itvery, very clear that we'll do anything we can to keep you satisfied. We're delighted to have you with us. We are honored!" He beamed at her. "Right?"

Trigger smiled. "If you say so. And thanks very much for all the lovelycompliments, Doctor. But now let's get down to business. "

Plemponi glanced over at Mihul and looked evasive. "That being?" heasked. 

"You know, " Trigger said. "But I'll put it into specific questions ifyou like. Where's Commissioner Tate?"

"I don't know. "

"Where is Mantelish?"

He shook his head. "I don't know that either. " He began to look unhappy. 

"Oh?" said Trigger. "Who does know then?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you, " Doctor Plemponi said firmly. 

Trigger raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Federation security, " Plemponi said, frowning. He added, "I wasn'tsupposed to tell you that either, but what could I do?"

"Federation security? Because of the plasmoids?"

"Yes.... Well.... I'd--I don't know. "

Trigger sighed. "Is it just me you're not supposed to tell these thingsto?"

"No, no, no, " Plemponi said hastily. "Nobody. I'm not supposed to admitto anyone that I know anything of the whereabouts of Holati Tate orProfessor Mantelish. "

"Fibber!" Trigger said quietly. "So you know!"

Plemponi looked appealingly at Mihul. She was grinning. "My lips aresealed, Trigger! I can't help it. Please believe me. "

"Let _me_ sum it up then, " Trigger said, tapping the arm of her chairwith a finger tip. "Eight weeks ago I get pulled off my job in the ManonSystem and sent here to arrange the organizational details of thisPlasmoid Project. The only reason I took on the job, as a temporaryassignment, was that Commissioner Tate convinced me it was important tohim to have me do it. I even let him talk me into doing it under theassumed name of Ruya Farn and"--she reached up and touched the side ofher head--"and to dye my hair. For no sane reason that I could discover!He said the U-League had requested it. "

Doctor Plemponi coughed. "Well, you know, Trigger, how sensitive theLeague is to personal notoriety. "

The eyebrow went up again. "Notoriety?"

"Not in the wrong sense!" Plemponi said hastily. "But your name _has_become much more widely known than you may believe. The news viewersmentioned you regularly in their reports on Harvest Moon and theCommissioner. Didn't they, Mihul?"

Mihul nodded. "You made good copy, kid! We saw you in the solidopics anynumber of times. "

"Well, maybe, " Trigger said. "The cloak and dagger touches still don'tmake much sense to me. But let's forget them and go on. 

"When we get here, I manage to see Mantelish just once to try to findout what his requirements will be. He's pretty vague about them. Commissioner Tate is in and out of the Project--usually out. He's alsoturned pretty vague. About everything. Three weeks ago today I'm toldhe's gone. Nobody here can, or will, tell me where he's gone or how hecan be contacted. The same thing in the Maccadon Precol office. Samething at the Evalee Home office. Same thing at the U-League--anyoffice. Then I try to contact Mantelish. I'm informed he's with Tate!The two of them have left word I'm to carry on. "

She spread her hands. "Carry on with what? I've done all I can do untilI get further instructions from the people supposedly directing thissupposedly very urgent and important project! Mantelish doesn't evenseem to have a second in command.... "

Plemponi nodded. "I was told he hadn't selected his Project assistantsyet. "

"Except, " said Trigger, "for that little flock of Junior Scientists whokeep themselves locked in with the plasmoids. They know less thannothing and would be too scared to tell me that if I asked them. "

Plemponi looked confused for a moment. "The last sentence--" He checkedhimself. "Well, let's not quibble. Go on. "

Trigger said, "That's it. Holati didn't need me on this job to beginwith. There's nothing involved about the organizational aspects. Unlesssomething begins to happen--and rather soon--there's no excuse for me tostay here. "

"Couldn't you, " Plemponi suggested, "regard this as a kind ofwell-earned little vacation?"

"I've tried to regard it as that. Holati impressed on me that one of ushad to remain in the area of the Project at all times, so I haven't evenbeen able to leave the school grounds. I've caught up with my reading, and Mihul has put me through two of her tune-up commando courses. Butthe point is that I'm not on vacation. I don't believe Precol would feelthat any of my present activities come under the heading of detachedduty work!"

There was a short silence. Plemponi stared down at his empty tray, said, "Excuse me, " got up and walked over to the wall chef with the tray. 

"Wrong slot, " Trigger told him. 

He looked back. "Eh?"

"You want to put it in the disposal, don't you?"

"Thanks, " Plemponi said absently. "Always doing that. Confusingthem.... " He dropped the tray where it belonged, shoved his hands intothe chef's cleaning recess and waved them around, then came back, stilllooking absent-minded, and stopped before Trigger's chair. He studiedher face for a moment. 

"Commissioner Tate gave me a message for you, " he said suddenly. 

Trigger's eyes narrowed slightly. "When?"

"The day after he left. " Plemponi lifted a hand. "Now wait! You'll seehow it was. He called in and said, and I quote, 'Plemp, you don't standmuch of a chance at keeping secrets from Trigger, so I'll give you nounnecessary secrets to keep. If this business we're on won't let us getback to the Project in the next couple of weeks, she'll get mightyrestless. When she starts to complain--but no earlier--just tell herthere are reasons why I can't contact her at present, or let her knowwhat I'm doing, and that I _will_ contact her as soon as I possiblycan. ' End of quote. "

"That was all?" asked Trigger. 

"Yes. "

"He didn't say a thing about how long this situation might continue?"

"No. I've given you the message word for word. My memory is excellent, Trigger. "

"So it could be more weeks? Or months?"

"Yes. Possibly. I imagine.... " Plemponi had begun to perspire. 

"Plemp, " said Trigger, "will you give Holati a message from me?"

"Gladly!" said Plemponi. "What--oh, oh!" He flushed. 

"Right, " said Trigger. "You can contact him. I thought so. "

Doctor Plemponi looked reproachful. "That was unfair, Trigger! You'requick-witted. "

Trigger shrugged. "I can't see any justification for all this mystery, that's all. " She stood up. "Anyway, here's the message. Tell him thatunless somebody--rather promptly--gives me a good sane reason forhanging around here, I'll ask Precol to transfer me back to the Manonjob. "

Plemponi tut-tutted gloomily. "Trigger, " he said, "I'll do my best aboutthe message. But otherwise--"

She smiled nicely at him. "I know, " she said, "your lips are sealed. Sorry if I've disturbed you, Plemp. But I'm just a Precol employee, after all. If I'm to waste their time, I'd like to know at least whyit's necessary. "

Plemponi watched her walk out of the room and off down the adjoininghall. In his face consternation struggled with approval. 

"Lovely little figure, hasn't she?" he said to Mihul. He made vaguecurving motions in the air with one hand, more or less opposing oneswith the other. "That sort of an up-and-sideways lilt when she walks. "

"Uh-huh, " said Mihul. "Old goats. "

"Eh?" said Doctor Plemponi. 

"I overheard you discussing Trigger's lilt with Mantelish. "

Plemponi sat down at his desk. "You shouldn't eavesdrop, Mihul, " he saidseverely. "I'd better get that message promptly to Tate, I suppose. Shemeant what she said, don't you think?"

"Every bit of it, " said Mihul. 

"Tate warned me she might get very difficult about this time. She's tooconscientious, I feel. "

"She also, " said Mihul, "has a boy friend in the Manon System. They'vebeen palsy ever since they went through the school here together. "

"Ought to get married then, " Plemponi said. He shuddered. "My blood runscold every time I think of how close those grabbers got to heryesterday!"

Mihul shrugged. "Relax! They never had a chance. The characters Tate hasguarding her are the fastest-moving squad I ever saw go into action. "

"That, " Plemponi said reflectively, "doesn't sound much like ourMaccadon police. "

"I don't think they are. Imported talent of some kind, for my money. Anyway, if someone wants to pick up Trigger Argee here, he'd better comein with a battleship. "

Plemponi glanced nervously across the balcony at the cloudless blue skyabout the quadrangle. 

"The impression I got from Holati Tate, " he said, "is that somebodymight. "

2

There was a tube portal at the end of the hall outside Doctor Plemponi'soffice. Mihul stepped into the portal, punched the number of herpersonal quarters, waited till the overhead light flashed green a fewseconds later, and stepped out into another hall seventeen floors belowPlemponi's office and a little over a mile and a half away from it. 

Mihul crossed the hall, went into her apartment, locked the door behindher and punched a shield button. In her bedroom, she opened a wall safeand swung out a high-powered transmitter. She switched the transmitterto active. 

"Yes?" said a voice. 

"Mihul here, " said Mihul. "Quillan or the Commissioner.... "

"Quillan here, " the transmitter said a few seconds later in a differentvoice, a deep male one. "Go ahead, doll. "

Mihul grunted. "I'm calling, " she said, "because I feel strongly thatyou boys had better take some immediate action in the Argee matter. "

"Oh?" said the voice. "What kind of action?"

"How the devil would I know? I'm just telling you I can't be responsiblefor her here much longer. "

"Has something happened?" Quillan asked quickly. 

"If you mean has somebody taken another swing at her, no. But she's allwound up to start swinging herself. She isn't going to do much waitingeither. "

Quillan said thoughtfully, "Hasn't she been that way for quite a while?"

"Not like she's been the last few days. " Mihul hesitated. "Would it beagainst security if you told me whether something has happened to her?"

"Happened to her?" Quillan repeated cautiously. 

"To her mind. "

"What makes you think so?"

Mihul frowned at the transmitter. 

"Trigger always had a temper, " she said. "She was always obstinate. Shewas always an individualist and ready to fight for her own rights andanyone else's. But she used to show good sense. She's got one of thehighest I. Q. S we ever processed through this place. The way she's actingnow doesn't look too rational. "

"How would she have acted earlier?" Quillan asked. 

Mihul considered. "She would have been very annoyed with CommissionerTate, " she said. "I don't blame her for that--I'd be, too, in thecircumstances. When he got back, she'd have wanted a reasonableexplanation for what has been going on. If she didn't get one thatsatisfied her, she'd have quit. But she _would_ have waited till he gotback. Why not, after all?"

"You don't think she's going to wait now?"

"I do not, " Mihul said. "She's forwarded him a kind of ultimatum throughPlemponi. Communicate-or-else, in effect. Frankly, I wouldn't care toguarantee she'll stay around to hear the answer. "

"Hm.... What do you expect she'll do?"

"Take off, " Mihul said. "One way or the other. "

"Ungh, " Quillan said disgustedly. "You make it sound like the chick'sgot built-in space drives. You can stop her, can't you?"

"Certainly I can stop her, " Mihul said. "If I can lock her in her roomand sit on her to make sure she doesn't leave by the window. But'unobtrusively?' You're the one who stressed she isn't to know she'sbeing watched. "

"True, " Quillan said promptly. "I spoke like a loon, Mihul. "

"True, Major Quillan, sir, " said Mihul. "Now try again. "

The transmitter was silent a few seconds. "Could you guarantee her forthree days?" he asked. 

"I could not, " said Mihul. "I couldn't guarantee her another threehours. "

"As bad as that?"

"Yes, " said Mihul. "As bad as that. She was controlling herself withPlemponi. But I've been observing her in the physical workouts. I've fedit to her as heavy as I could, but there's a limit to what you can dothat way. She's kept herself in very good shape. "

"One of the best, I've been told, " said Quillan. 

"Condition, I meant, " said Mihul. "Anyway, she's trained down fine rightnow. Any more of it would just make her edgier. You know how it goes. "

"Uh-huh, " he said. "Fighter nerves. "

"Same deal, " Mihul agreed. 

There was a short pause. "How about slapping a guard on all Colonialschool exits?" he suggested. 

"Can you send me an army?"

"No. "

"Then forget it. She was a student here, remember? Last year a bunch ofour students smuggled the stuffed restructured mastodon out and left itin the back garden of the mayor of Ceyce, just for laughs. Too manyexits. And Trigger was a trickier monkey than most that way, when shefelt like it. She'll fade out of here whenever she wants to. "

"It's those damn tube portal systems!" said Quillan, with feeling. "Mostgruesome invention that ever hit the tailing profession. " He sighed. "You win, Mihul! The Commissioner isn't in at the moment. But whether hegets in or not, I'll have someone over today to pick her up. Matter offact, I'll come along myself. "

"Good for you, boy!" Mihul said relievedly. "Did you get anything out ofyesterday's grabbers?"

"A little. 'Get her, don't harm her' were their instructions. Otherwiseit was like with those other slobs. A hole in the head where the realinfo should be. But at least we know for sure now that someone isspecifically after Argee. The price was kind of interesting. "

"What was it?"

"Flat half million credits. "

Mihul whistled. "Poor Trigger!"

"Well, nobody's very likely to earn the money. "

"I hope not. She's a good kid. All right, Major. Signing off now. "

"Hold on a minute, " said Quillan. "You asked a while ago if the girl hadgone ta-ta. "

"So I did, " Mihul said, surprised. "You didn't say. I figured it wasagainst security. "

"It probably is, " Quillan admitted. "Everything seems to be, right now. I've given up trying to keep up with that. Anyway--I don't know that shehas. Neither does the Commissioner. But he's worried. And Argee has adate she doesn't know about with the Psychology Service, four days fromnow. "

"The eggheads?" Mihul was startled. "What do they want with her?"

"You know, " Quillan remarked reflectively, "that's odd! They didn'tthink to tell me. "

"Why are you letting me know?" Mihul asked. 

"You'll find out, doll, " he said. 

 * * * * *

The U-League guard leaning against the wall opposite the portal snappedto attention as it opened. Trigger stepped out. He gave her a fineflourish of a salute. 

"Good morning, Miss Farn. "

"Morning, " Trigger said. She flashed him a smile. "Did the mail get in?"

"Just twenty minutes ago. "

She nodded, smiled again and walked past him to her office. She alwaysgot along fine with cops of almost any description, and these Leagueboys were extraordinarily pleasant and polite. They were also, she'dnoticed, a remarkably muscled group. 

She locked the office door behind her--part of the Plasmoid Project'selaborate security precautions--went over to her mail file and found itempty. Which meant that whatever had come in was purely routine andalready being handled by her skeleton office staff. Later in the day shemight get a chance to scrawl Ruya Farn's signature on a few dozenletters and checks. Big job! Trigger sat down at her desk. 

She brooded there a minute or two, tapping her teeth with her thumbnail. The Honorable Precolonial Commissioner Tate, whatever else might be saidof him, undoubtedly was one of the brainiest little characters she'dever come across. He probably saw some quite valid reason for keepingher here, isolated and uninformed. The question was what the reasoncould be. 

Security.... Trigger wrinkled her nose. Security didn't mean a thing. Everybody and everything associated with the Old Galactic plasmoids hadbeen wrapped up in Federation security measures since the day theplasmoid discovery was announced. And she'd been in the middle of theoperations concerning them right along. Why should Holati Tate haveturned secretive on her now? When even blabby old Plemponi could contacthim. 

It was more than a little annoying.... 

Trigger shrugged, reached into a desk drawer and took out a smallsolidopic. She set it on the desk and regarded it moodily. 

The face of an almost improbably handsome young man looked back at her. Startling dark-blue eyes; a strong chin, curly brown hair. There was agleam of white teeth behind the quick, warm smile which always awoke aresponsive glow in her. 

She and Brule Inger had been the nearest thing to engaged for the lasttwo and a half years, ever since Precol sent them out together to itsproject on Manon Planet. They'd been dating before that, while they wereboth still attending the Colonial School. But now she was here, perhapsstuck here indefinitely--unless she did something about it--and Brulewas on Manon Planet. By the very fastest subspace ships the Manon Systemwas a good nine days away. For the standard Grand Commerce expressfreighter or the ordinary liner it was a solid two-months' run. Manonwas a _long_ way away!

It was almost a month since she'd even heard from Brule. She could makeup another personal tape to him today if she felt like it. He would getit in fourteen days or so via a Federation packet. But she'd alreadysent him three without reply. Brule wasn't at all good at long distancelove-making, and she didn't blame him much. She was a little awkwardherself when it came to feeding her personal feelings into a tape. And--because of security again--there was very little else she couldfeed into it. She couldn't even let Brule know just where she was. 

She put the solido back in its drawer, reached for one of the bank ofbuttons on the right side of the desk and pushed it down. A desk panelslid up vertically in front of her, disclosing a news viewer switched tothe index of current headlines. 

Trigger glanced over the headlines, while a few items dissolved slowlyhere and there and were replaced by more recent developments. Under the"Science" heading a great deal seemed to be going on, as usual, inconnection with plasmoid experiments around the Hub. 

She dialed in the heading, skimmed through the first item that appeared. Essentially it was a summary of reports on Hubwide rumors that nobodycould claim any worthwhile progress in determining what made the OldGalactic plasmoids tick. Which, so far as Trigger knew, was quite true. Other rumors, rather unpleasant ones, were that the five hundred or soscientific groups to whom individual plasmoids had been issued by theFederation's University League actually had gained importantinformation, but were keeping it to themselves. 

The summary plowed through a few of the learned opinions andcounteropinions most recently obtained, then boiled them down to thestatement that a plasmoid might be compared to an engine whichappeared to lack nothing but an energy source. Or perhaps morecorrectly--assuming it might have an as yet unidentified energysource--a starter button. One group claimed to have virtually duplicatedthe plasmoid loaned to it by the Federation, producing a biochemicalstructure distinguishable from the Old Galactic model only by the factthat it had--quite predictably--fallen apart within hours. But plasmoidsdidn't fall apart. The specimens undergoing study had shown no signs ofdeterioration. A few still absorbed nourishment from time to time; somehad been observed to move slightly. But none could be induced tooperate. It was all very puzzling!

It _was_ very puzzling, Trigger conceded. Back in the Manon System, whenthey had been discovered, the plasmoids were operating with highefficiency on the protein-collecting station which the mysterious OldGalactics appeared to have abandoned, or forgotten about, some hundredsof centuries ago. It was only when humans entered the base and switchedoff its mechanical operations that the plasmoids stopped working--andthen, when the switches which appeared to have kept them going wereexpectantly closed again, they had stayed stopped. 

Personally, Trigger couldn't have cared less if they never did move. Itwas nice that old Holati Tate had made an almost indecently vastfortune out of his first-discovery rights to the things, because shewas really very fond of the Commissioner when he wasn't beingirritating. But in some obscure way she found the plasmoids themselvesand the idea of unlimited plastic life which they embodied ratherappalling. However, she was in a minority there. Practically everybodyelse seemed to feel that plasmoids were the biggest improvement sincethe creation of Eve. 

She switched the viewer presently to its local-news setting and dialedin the Manon System's reference number. Keeping tab on what was going onout there had become a private little ritual of late. Occasionally sheeven picked up references to Brule Inger, who functioned nowadays asPrecol's official greeter and contact man in the system. He was verypopular with the numerous important Hub citizens who made the long runout to the Manon--some bent on getting a firsthand view of the marvelsof Old Galactic science, and a great many more bent on getting an earlystake in the development of Manon Planet, which was rapidly approachingthe point where its status would shift from Precol Project to FederationTerritory, opening it to all qualified comers. 

Today there was no news about Brule. Grand Commerce had opened its firstbusiness and recreation center on Manon, not ten miles from the PrecolHeadquarters dome where Trigger recently had been working. The subspacenet which was being installed about the Old Galactic base was verynearly completed. The permanent Hub population on Manon Planet had justpassed the forty-three thousand mark. There had been, Trigger recalled, a trifle nostalgically, barely eight hundred Precol employees, and notanother human being, on that world in the days before Holati Tateannounced his discovery. 

She was just letting the viewer panel slide back into the desk when theoffice ComWeb gave forth with a musical ping. She switched it on. 

"Hi, Rak!" she said cheerily. "Anything new?"

The bony-faced young man looking out at her wore the lusterless blackuniform of a U-League Junior Scientist. His expression was worried. 

He said, "I believe there is, Miss Farn. " Rak was the group leader ofthe thirty-four Junior Scientists the League had installed in theProject. Like all the Juniors, he took his duties very seriously. "Unfortunately it's nothing I can discuss over a communicator. Would itbe possible for you to come over and meet with us during the day?"

"That, " Trigger stated, "was a ridiculous question, Rak! Want me overright now?"

He grinned. "Thanks, Miss Farn! In twenty minutes then? I'll get myadvisory committee together and we can meet in the little conferenceroom off the Exhibition Hall. "

Trigger nodded. "I'll be wandering around the Hall. Just send a guardout to get me when you're ready. "

3

She switched off the ComWeb and stood up. Rak and his group were stuckwith the Plasmoid Project a lot more solidly than she was. They'd beenestablished here, confined to their own wing of the Project area, whenshe came in from Manon with the Commissioner. Until the present securityrulings were relaxed--which might not be for another two years--theywould remain on the project. 

Trigger felt a little sorry for them, though the Junior Scientistsdidn't seem to mind the setup. Dedication stood out all over them. Sinceabout half were young women, one could assume that at any rate theyweren't condemned to a completely monastic existence. 

A couple of workmen were guiding a dozen big cleaning robots around thePlasmoid Exhibition Hall, which wouldn't be open to students orvisitors for another few hours. Trigger strolled across the floor of thehuge area toward a couple of exhibits that hadn't been there the lasttime she'd come through. Life-sized replicas of two O. G. Plasmoids--Numbers 1432 and 1433--she discovered. She regarded thewaxy-looking, lumpish, partially translucent forms with some distaste. She'd been all over the Old Galactic Station itself, and might havestood close enough to the originals of these models to touch them. Notthat she would have. 

She glanced at her watch, walked around a scale model of Harvest Moon, the O. G. Station, which occupied the center of the Hall, and went onamong the exhibits. There were views taken on Manon Planet in onealcove, mainly of Manon's aerial plankton belt and of the giantplasmoids called Harvesters which had moved about the belt, methodicallyengulfing its clouds of living matter. A whale-sized replica of aHarvester dominated one end of the Hall, a giant dark-green sausage inexternal appearance, though with some extremely fancy internalarrangements. 

"Miss Farn.... "

She turned. A League cop, standing at the entrance of a hallway thirtyfeet away, pitched her the old flourish and followed it up with a bow. Excellent manners these guard boys had!

Trigger gave him a smile. 

"Coming, " she said. 

Junior Scientist Rak and his advisory committee--two other young men anda young woman--were waiting in the conference room for her. They allstood up when she came in. This room marked the border of theirterritory; they would have violated several League rules by venturingout into the hall through which Trigger had entered. 

And that would have been unthinkable. 

Rak did the talking, as on the previous occasions when Trigger had metwith this group. The advisory committee simply sat there and watchedhim. As far as Trigger could figure it, they were present at thesesessions only to check Rak if it looked as if he were about to commitsome ghastly indiscretion. 

"We were wondering, Miss Farn, " Rak said questioningly, "whether youhave the authority to requisition additional University League guardsfor the Plasmoid Project?"

Trigger shook her head. "I've got no authority of any kind that I knowof, as far as the League is concerned. No doubt Professor Mantelishcould arrange it for you. "

Rak nodded. "Is it possible for you to contact Professor Mantelish?"

"No, " Trigger said. She smiled. "Is it possible for you to contact him?"

Rak glanced around his committee as if looking for approval, then said, "No, it isn't. As a matter of fact, Miss Farn, we've been isolated herein the most curious fashion for the past few weeks. "

"So have I, " said Miss Farn. 

Rak looked startled. "Oh!" he said. "We were hoping you would be willingto give us a little information. "

"I would, " Trigger assured him, "if I had any to give. I don't, unfortunately. " She considered. "Why do you feel additional Leagueguards are required?"

"We heard, " Rak remarked cautiously, "that there were raiders in theColonial School area yesterday. "

"Grabbers, " Trigger said. "They wouldn't bother you. Your section of theproject is supposed to be raidproof anyway. "

Rak glanced at his companions again and apparently received someundetectable sign of consent. "Miss Farn, as you know, our group hasbeen entrusted with the care of two League plasmoids here. Are you awarethat six of the plasmoids which were distributed to responsiblelaboratories throughout the Hub have been lost to unknown raiders?"

She was startled. "No, I didn't know that. I heard there'd been someunsuccessful attempts to steal distributed plasmoids. "

"These six attempts, " Rak said primly, "were completely successful. Onemust assume that the victimized laboratories also had been regarded asraidproof. "

Trigger admitted it was a reasonable assumption. 

"There is another matter, " Rak went on. "When we arrived here, weunderstood Doctor Gess Fayle was to bring Plasmoid Unit 112-113 to thisproject. It seems possible that Doctor Fayle's failure to appearindicates that League Headquarters does not consider the project asufficiently safe place for 112-113. "

"Why don't you ask Headquarters?" Trigger suggested. 

They stirred nervously. 

"That would be a violation of the Principle of the Chain of Command, Miss Farn!" Rak explained. 

"Oh, " she said. The Juniors were overdisciplined, all right. "Is that112-113 such a particularly important item?"

"If Doctor Fayle is in personal charge of it, " Rak said carefully, "Iwould say yes. "

Recalling her meetings with Doctor Gess Fayle in the Manon System, Trigger silently agreed. He was one of the U-League's big shots, apolitical scientist who had got himself appointed as Mantelish's chiefassistant when that eminent biologist was first sent to Manon to takeover League operations there. Trigger had disliked Fayle on sight, andhadn't changed her mind on closer acquaintance. 

"I remember that 112-113 unit now, " she said suddenly. "Big, uglything--well, that describes a lot of them, doesn't it?"

Rak and the others looked quietly affronted. In a moment, Triggerrealized, one of them was going to go into a lecture on functionalesthetics unless she could head them off--and she'd already heard quiteenough about functional esthetics in connection with the plasmoids. 

"Now, 113, " she hurried on, "is a very small plasmoid"--she held herhands fifteen inches or so apart--"like that; and it's attached to thebig one. Correct?"

Rak nodded, a little stiffly. "Essentially correct, Miss Farn. "

"Well, " Trigger said, "I can't blame you for worrying a bit. How aboutyour Guard Captain? Isn't it all right to ask him about reinforcements?"

Rak pursed his lips. "Yes. And I did. This morning. Before I calledyou. "

"What did he say?"

Rak grimaced unhappily. "He implied, Miss Farn, that his present guardcomplement could handle any emergency. How would he know?"

"That's his job, " Trigger pointed out gently. The Juniors did look badlyworried. "He didn't have any helpful ideas?"

"None, " said Rak. "He said that if someone wanted to put up the money tohire a battle squad of Special Federation Police, he could always findsome use for them. But that's hopeless, of course. "

Trigger straightened up. She reached out and poked Rak's bony chest witha finger tip. "You know something?" she said. "It's not!"

The four faces lit up together. 

"The fact is, " Trigger went on, "that I'm handling the Project budgetuntil someone shows up to take over. So I think I'll just buy you thatFederation battle squad, Rak! I'll get on it right away. " She stood up. The Juniors bounced automatically out of their chairs. "You go tell yourguard Captain, " she instructed them from the hall door, "there'll be asquad showing up in time for dinner tonight. "

 * * * * *

The Federation Police Office in Ceyce informed Trigger that a Class ABattle Squad--twenty trained men with full equipment--would report fortwo months' duty at the Colonial School during the afternoon. She madethem out a check and gave it the Ruya Farn signature via telewriter. Thefigure on that check was going to cause some U-League auditor's eyebrowsto fly off the top of his head one of these days; but if the Leagueinsisted on remaining aloof to the problems of its Plasmoid Project, alittle financial anguish was the least it could expect in return. 

Trigger felt quite cheerful for a while. 

Then she had a call from Precol's Maccadon office. She was requested tostand by while a personal interstellar transmission was switched to herComWeb. 

It looked like her day! She hummed softly, waiting. She knew just oneindividual affluent enough to be able to afford personal interstellarconversations; and that was Commissioner Tate. Fast work, Plemp, shethought approvingly. 

But it was Brule Inger's face that flashed into view on the ComWeb. Trigger's heart jumped. Her breath caught in her throat. 

"Brule!" she yelled then. She shot up out of her chair. "Where are youcalling from?"

Brule's eyes crinkled around the edges. He gave her the smile. The goodold smile. "Unfortunately, darling, I'm still in the Manon System. " Heblinked. "What happened to your hair?"

"Manon!" said Trigger. She started to settle back, weak withdisappointment. Then she shot up again. "Brule! Lunatic! You're blowinga month's salary a minute on this! I love you! Switch off, fast!"

Brule threw back his head and laughed. "You haven't changed much in twomonths, anyway! Don't worry. It's for free. I'm calling from the yachtof a friend. "

"Some friend!" Trigger said, startled. 

"It isn't costing her anything either. She had to transmit to the Hubtoday anyway. Asked me if I'd like to take over the last few minutes ofcontact and see if I could locate you.... Been missing me properly, Trigger?"

Trigger smiled. "Very properly. Well, that was lovely of her! Someone Iknow?"

"Hardly, " said Brule. "Nelauk arrived a week or so after you left. Nelauk Pluly. Her father's the Pluly Lines. Let's talk about you. What'sthe silver-haired idea?"

"Got talked into it, " she told him. "It's all the rage again right now. "He surveyed her critically. "I like you better as a redhead. "

"So do I. " Oops, Trigger thought. Security, girl! "So I'll change backtonight, " she went on quickly. "Golly, Brule. It's nice to see thathomely old mug again!"

"Be a lot nicer when it won't have to be over a transmitter. "

"Right you are!"

"When are you coming back?"

She shook her head glumly. "Don't know. "

He was silent a moment. "I've had to take a bit of chitchat now andthen, " he remarked, "about you and old Tate vanishing together. "

Trigger felt herself coloring. "So don't take it, " she said shortly. "Just pop them one!"

The smile returned. "Wouldn't be gentlemanly to pop a lady, would it?"

She smiled back. "So stay away from the ladies!" Somehow Brule andHolati Tate never had worked up a really warm regard for each other. Ithad caused a little trouble before. 

"Okay to tell me where you are?" he asked. 

"Afraid not, Brule. "

"Precol Home Office apparently knows, " he pointed out. 

"Apparently, " Trigger admitted. 

They looked at each other a moment; then Brule grinned. "Well, keep yourlittle secret!" he said. "All I really want to know is when you'regetting back. "

"Very soon, I hope, Brule, " Trigger said unhappily. Then there was asudden burst of sound from the ComWeb--gusts of laughing, chatteringvoices; a faint wash of music. Brule glanced aside. 

"Party going on, " he explained. "And here comes Nelauk! She wanted tosay hello to you. "

A dozen feet behind him, a figure strolled gracefully into view on thescreen and came forward. A slender girl with high-piled violet hair andeyes that very nearly matched the hair's tint. She was dressed insomething resembling a dozen blossoms--blossoms which, in Trigger'sopinion, had been rather carelessly scattered. But presumably it was avery elegant party costume. She was quite young, certainly not yettwenty. 

Brule laid a brotherly hand on a powdered shoulder. "Meet Trigger, Nelauk!"

Nelauk murmured it was indeed an honor, one she had long looked forwardto. The violet eyes blinked sleepily at Trigger. 

Trigger gave her a great big smile. "Thanks so much for arranging forthe call. I've been wondering how Brule was doing. "

Wrong thing to say, probably, she thought. She was right. Nelauk reachedfor it with no effort. 

"Oh, he's doing wonderfully!" she assured Trigger without expression. "I'm keeping an eye on him. And this small favor--it was the very leastI could do for Brule. For you, too, of course, Trigger dear. "

Trigger held the smile firmly. 

"Thanks so much, again!" she said. 

Nelauk nodded, smiled back and drifted gracefully off the screen. Bruleblew Trigger a kiss. "They'll be cutting contact now. See you very, verysoon, Trigger, I hope. "

His image vanished before she could answer. 

She paced her office, muttering softly. She went over to the ComWebonce, reached out toward it and drew her hand back again. 

Better think this over. 

It might not be an emergency. Brule didn't exactly chase women. He letthem chase him now and then. Long before she left Manon, Trigger haddiscovered without much surprise, that the wives, daughters and girlfriends of visiting Hub tycoons were as susceptible to the Inger charmas any Precol clerks. The main difference was that they were a lot moredirect about showing it. 

It hadn't really worried her. In fact, she found Brule's slightlystartled reports of maneuverings of various amorous Hub ladies veryentertaining. But she had put in a little worrying about something else. Brule's susceptibility seemed to be more to the overwhelming massdisplay of wealth with which he was suddenly in almost constant contact. Many of the yachts he went flitting around among as Precol'srepresentative were elaborate spacegoing palaces, and it appeared BruleInger was soon regarded as a highly welcome guest on most of them. 

Brule talked about that a little too much. 

Trigger resumed her pacing. 

Little Nelauk mightn't be twenty yet, but she'd flipped out a challengejust now with all the languid confidence of a veteran campaigner. Which, Trigger thought cattily, little Nelauk undoubtedly was. 

And a girl, she added cattily, whose father represented the Pluly Linesdid have some slight reason for confidence.... 

"Miaow!" she reproved herself. Nelauk, to be honest about it, was also adish. 

But if she happened to be serious about Brule, the dish Brule might betempted by was said Pluly Lines. 

Trigger went over to the window and looked down at the exercisequadrangle forty floors below. 

"If he's that much of a meathead!" she thought. 

He could be that much of a meathead. He was also Brule. She went back toher desk and sat down. She looked at the ComWeb. A girl had a right toconsider her own interests. 

And there was the completely gruesome possibility now that Holati Tatemight call in at any moment, give her an entirely reasonable, satisfactory, valid, convincing explanation for everything that hadhappened lately--and then show her why it would be absolutely necessaryfor her to stay here a while longer. 

If it was a choice between inconveniencing Holati Tate and losing thatmeathead Brule--

Trigger switched on the ComWeb. 

4

The head of the personnel department of Precol's Maccadon office said, "You don't want me, Argee. That's not my jurisdiction. I'll connect youwith Undersecretary Rozan. "

Trigger blinked. "Under--" she began. But he'd already cut off. 

She stared at the ComWeb, feeling a little shaken. All she'd done was tosay she wanted to apply for a transfer! Undersecretary Rozan was one ofPrecol's Big Four. For a moment, Trigger had an uncanny notion. Somestrange madness was spreading insidiously through the Hub. She shook thethought off. 

A businesslike blonde showed up in the screen. She might be aboutthirty-five. She smiled a small, cold smile. 

"Rozan, " she said. "You're Trigger Argee. I know about you. What's thetrouble?"

Trigger looked at her, wondering. "No trouble, " she said. "Personneljust routed me through to you. "

"They've been instructed to do so, " said Rozan. "Go ahead. "

"I'm on detached duty at the moment. "

"I know. "

"I'd like to apply for a transfer back to my previous job. The ManonSystem. "

"That's your privilege, " said Rozan. She half turned, swung a telewriterforward and snapped it into her ComWeb. She glanced out at Trigger'sdesk. "Your writer's connected, I see. We'll want thumbprint andsignature. "

She slid a form into her telewriter, shifted it twice as Triggerdeposited thumbprint and signature and drew it out. "The applicationwill be processed promptly, Argee. Good day. "

Not a gabby type, that Rozan. 

If not gabby, the Precol blonde was a woman of her word. Trigger hadjust started lunch when the office mail-tube receiver tinkled brightlyat her. She reached in, took out a flat plastic carrier, snapped itopen. The paper that unfolded itself in her hand was her retransferapplication. 

At the bottom of the form was stamped "Application Denied, " followed bythe signature of the Secretary of the Department of Precolonization, Home Office, Evalee. 

Trigger's gaze shifted incredulously from the signature to the twowords, and back. They'd taken the trouble to get that signaturetransmitted from Evalee just to make it clear that there were no headsleft to be gone over in the matter. Precol was not transferring her backto Manon. That was final. Then she realized that there was a secondsheet attached to the application form. 

On it in handwriting were a few more words: "In accordance with theinstructions of Commissioner Tate. " And a signature, "Rozan. " And threefinal words: "Destroy this note. "

Trigger crumpled up the application in one hand. Her other hand dartedto the ComWeb. 

Then she checked herself. To fire an as-of-now resignation back atPrecol had been the immediate impulse. But something, some vague warningchill, was saying it might be a very poor impulse to follow. 

She sat back to think it over. 

It was very probable that Undersecretary Rozan disliked Holati Tateintensely. A lot of the Home Office big shots disliked Holati Tate. He'dstamped on their toes more than once--very justifiably; but he'dstamped. The Home Office wouldn't go an inch out of its way to dosomething just because Commissioner Tate happened to want it done. 

So somebody else was backing up Commissioner Tate's instructions. 

Trigger shook her head helplessly. 

The only somebody else who _could_ give instructions to thePrecolonization Department was the Council of the Federation!

And how could the Federation possibly care what Trigger Argee was doing?She made a small, incredulous noise in her throat. 

Then she sat there a while, feeling frightened. 

The fright didn't really wear off, but it settled down slowly insideher. Up on the surface she began to think again. 

Assume it's so, she instructed herself. It made no sense, but everythingelse made even less sense. Just assume it's so. Set it up as a practicalproblem. Don't worry about the why.... 

The problem became very simple then. She wanted to go to Manon. TheFederation--or something else, something quite unthinkable at the momentbut comparable to the Federation in power and influence--wanted to keepher here. 

She uncrumpled the application, detached Rozan's note, tore up the noteand dropped its shreds into the wall disposal. That obligation wascancelled. She didn't have any other obligations. She'd liked HolatiTate. When all this was cleared up, she might find she still liked him. At the moment she didn't owe him a thing. 

Now. Assume they hadn't just blocked the obvious route to Manon. Theycouldn't block all routes to everywhere; that was impossible. But theycould very well be watching to see that she didn't simply get up andwalk off. And they might be very well prepared to take quite directaction to stop her from doing it. 

She would, Trigger decided, leave the method she'd use to get out of theColonial School unobserved to the last. That shouldn't present anyserious difficulties. 

Once she was outside, what would she do?

Principally, she had to buy transportation. And that--since she had nointention of spending a few months on the trip, and since a privatecitizen didn't have the ghost of a chance at squeezing aboard aFederation packet on the Manon run--was going to be expensive. In fact, it was likely to take the bulk of her savings. Under the circumstances, however, expense wasn't important. If Precol refused to give her backher job when she showed up on Manon, a number of the industrial outfitspreparing to move in as soon as the plant got its final clearance wouldbe very happy to have her. She'd already turned down a dozen offers atconsiderably more than her present salary. 

So ... She'd get off the school grounds, take a tube strip into downtownCeyce, step into a ComWeb booth, and call Grand Commerce transportationfor information on the earliest subspace runs to Manon. 

She'd reserve a berth on the first fast boat out. In the name of--let'ssee--in the name of Birna Drellgannoth, who had been a friend of herswhen they were around the age of ten. Since Manon was a Precol preserve, she wouldn't have to meet the problem of precise personalidentification, such as one ran into when booking passage to some of themember worlds. 

The ticket office would have her thumbprints then. That was unavoidable. But there were millions of thumbprints being deposited every hour of theday on Maccadon. If somebody started checking for her by that method, itshould take them a good long while to sort out hers. 

Next stop--the Ceyce branch of the Bank of Maccadon. And it was luckyshe'd done all her banking in Ceyce since she was a teen-ager, becauseshe would have to present herself in person to draw out her savings. She'd better lose no time getting to the bank either. It was one placewhere theoretical searchers could expect her to show up. 

She could pay for her ship reservation at the bank. Then to a store forsome clothes and a suitcase for the trip.... 

And, finally, into some big middle-class hotel where she would stayquietly until a few hours before the ship was due to take off. 

That seemed to cover it. It probably wasn't foolproof. But trying towork out a foolproof plan would be a waste of time when she didn't knowjust what she was up against. This should give her a running start, along one. 

When should she leave?

Right now, she decided. Commissioner Tate presumably would be informedthat she had applied for a transfer and that the transfer had beendenied. He knew her too well not to become suspicious if it looked as ifshe were just sitting there and taking it. 

She got her secretary on the ComWeb. 

"I'm thinking of leaving the office, " she said. "Anything for me to takecare of first?"

It was a safe question. She'd signed the day's mail and checks beforelunch. 

"Not a thing, Miss Farn. "

"Fine, " said Ruya Farn. "If anyone wants me in the next three or fourhours, I'll be either down in the main library or out at the lake. "

And that would give somebody two rather extensive areas to look for her, if and when they started to look--along with the fact that, for allanyone knew, she might be anywhere between those two points. 

A few minutes later, Trigger sauntered, humming blithely, into her roomand gave it a brief survey. There were some personal odds and ends shewould have liked to take with her, but she could send for them fromManon. 

The Denton, however, was coming along. The little gun had a veryprecisely calibrated fast-acting stunner attachment, and old RunserArgee had instructed Trigger in its use with his customary thoroughnessbefore he formally presented her with the gun. She had never hadoccasion to turn the stunner on a human being, but she'd used it ongame. If this cloak and dagger business became too realistic, she'dalready decided she would use it as needed. 

She slipped the Denton into the side pocket of a lightweight rain robe, draped the robe over her arm, slung her purse beside it, picked up thesun hat and left the room. 

The Colonial School's kitchen area was on one of the underground levels. Unless they'd modified their guard system very considerably sinceTrigger had graduated, that was the route by which she would leave. 

As far as she could tell they hadn't modified anything. The wholekitchen level looked so unchanged that she had a moment of nostalgia. Groups of students went chattering along the hallways between thestorerooms and the cooking and processing plants. The big mess hall, Trigger noticed in passing, smelled as good as it always had. Bellssounded the end of a period and a loudspeaker system began directingClass so and so to Room such and such. Standing around were a fewuniformed guards--mainly for the purpose of helping out newcomers whohad lost their direction. 

She came out on the equally familiar big and brightly lit platform ofthe loading ramp. Some sixty or seventy great cylindrical vans floatedalongside the platform, most of them disgorging their contents, somestill sealed. 

Trigger walked unhurriedly down the ramp, staying in the background, observing the movements of two ramp guards and marking four vans whichwere empty and looked ready to go. 

The driver of the farthest of the four empties stood in the back of hisvehicle, a few feet above the platform. When Trigger came level withhim, he was studying her. He was a big young man with tousled black hairand a rough-and-ready look. He was grinning very faintly. He knew theways of Colonial School students. 

Trigger raised her left hand a few inches, three fingers up. His grinwidened. He shook his head and raised both hands in a correspondinggesture. Eight fingers. 

Trigger frowned at him, stopped and looked back along the row of vans. Then left hand up again--four fingers and thumb. 

The driver made a circle with finger and thumb. A deal, for fiveMaccadon crowns. Which was about standard fare for unauthorized passageout of the school. 

Trigger wandered on to the end of the platform, turned and came back, still unhurriedly but now close to the edge of the ramp. Down the line, another van slammed open in back and a stream of crates swooped out, riding a gravity beam from the roof toward a waiting storeroom carrier. The guard closest to Trigger turned to watch the process. Trigger tooksix quick steps and reached her driver. 

He put down a hand to help her step up. She slipped the five-crown pieceinto his palm. 

"Up front, " he whispered hoarsely. "Next to the driver's seat and keepdown. How far?"

"Nearest tube line. "

He grinned again and nodded. "Can do. "

Twenty minutes later Trigger was in a downtown ComWeb booth. There hadbeen a minor modification in her plans and she'd stopped off in a storea few doors away and picked up a carefully nondescript street dress anda scarf. She changed into the dress now and bundled the school costumeinto a deposit box, which she dispatched to Central Deposit with aone-crown piece, getting a numbered slip in return. It had occurred toher that there was a chance otherwise of getting caught in a ColonialSchool roundup, if it was brought to Doctor Plemponi's attention thatthere appeared to be considerably more students out on the town at themoment than could be properly overlooked. 

Or even, Trigger thought, if somebody simply happened to have missedTrigger Argee. 

She slipped the rain robe over her shoulders, dropped a coin into theComWeb, and covered the silver-blonde hair with the scarf. The screenlit up. She asked for Grand Commerce Transportation. 

Waiting, she realized suddenly that so far she was rather enjoyingherself. There had been a little argument with the van driver who, itturned out, had ideas of his own about modifying Trigger's plans--acomplication she'd run into frequently in her school days too. As usual, it didn't develop into a very serious argument. Truckers who dealt withthe Colonial School knew, or learned in one or two briefly horridlessons, that Mihul's commando-trained charges were prone to ungirlishmethods of discouragement when argued with too urgently. 

The view screen switched on. The transportation clerk's glance flickedover Trigger's street dress when she told him her destination. Hisexpression remained bland. Yes, the Dawn City was leaving Ceyce Port forthe Manon System tomorrow evening. Yes, it was subspace express--one ofthe newest and fastest, in fact. His eyes slipped over the dress again. Also one of the most luxurious, he might add. There would be only twothree-hour stops in the Hub beyond Maccadon--one each off Evalee andGarth. Then a straight dive to Manon unless, of course, gravitic stormshifts forced the ship to surface temporarily. Average time for the DawnCity on the run was eleven days; the slowest trip so far had requiredsixteen. 

"But unfortunately, madam, there are only a very few cabins left--andnot very desirable ones, I'm afraid. " He looked apologetic. "Therehasn't been a vacancy on the Manon run for the past three months. "

"I can stand it, I imagine, " Trigger said. "How much for the cheapest?"

The clerk cleared his throat gently and told her. 

She couldn't help blinking, though she was braced for it. But it wasmore than she had counted on. A great deal more. It would leave her, infact, with exactly one hundred and twenty-six crowns out of her entiresavings, plus the coins she had in her purse. 

"Any extras?" she asked, a little hoarsely. 

He shrugged. "There's Traveler's Rest, " he said negligently. "Ninehundred for the three dive periods. But Rest is optional, of course. Some passengers prefer the experience of staying awake during a subspacedive. " He smiled--rather sadistically, Trigger felt--and added, "Tillthey've lived through one of them, that is. "

Trigger nodded. She'd lived through quite a few of them. She didn't likesubspace particularly--nobody did--but except for an occasional touch ofnausea or dizziness at the beginning of a dive, it didn't bother hermuch. Many people got hallucinations, went into states of panic or justgot very sick. "Anything else?" she asked. 

"Just the usual tips and things, " said the clerk. He looked surprised. "Do you--does madam wish to make the reservation?"

"Madam does, " Trigger told him coldly. "How long will it hold?"

It would be good up to an hour before take-off time, she learned. If notclaimed then, it would be filled from the last-minute waiting list. 

She left the booth thoughtfully. At least the Dawn City would be leavingin less than twenty-six hours. She wouldn't have to spend much of herremaining capital before she got off Maccadon. 

She'd skip meals, she decided. Except breakfast next morning, whichwould be covered by her hotel room fee. 

And it wasn't going to be any middle-class hotel. 

There was no one obviously waiting for her at the Bank of Maccadon. Infact, since that venerable institution covered a city block, withentrances running up from the street level to the fifty-eighth floor, asmall army would have been needed to make sure of spotting her. 

She had to identify herself to get into the vaults, but there was asolution to that. Seven years ago when Runser Argee died suddenly andshe had to get his property and records straightened out, a gray-hairedlittle vault attendant with whom she dealt with had taken a fatherlyinterest in her. When she saw he was still on the job, Trigger wascertain the matter would go off all right. 

It did. He didn't take a really close look at her until she shoved hersignature and Federation identification in front of him. Then his headbobbed up briskly. His eyes lit up. 

"Trigger!" He bounced out of his chair. His right hand shot out. "Goodto see you again! I've been hearing about you. "

They shook hands. She put a finger to her lips. "I'm here incog!" shecautioned in a low voice. "Can you handle this quietly?"

The faded blue eyes widened slightly, but he asked no questions. TriggerArgee's name was known rather widely, as a matter of fact, particularlyon her home world. And as he remembered Trigger, she wasn't a girl who'dgo look for a spotlight to stand in. 

He nodded. "Sure can!" He glanced suspiciously at the nearest customers, then looked down at what Trigger had written. He frowned. "You drawingout everything? Not leaving Ceyce for good, are you?"

"No, " Trigger said. "I'll be back. This is just a temporary emergency. "

That was all the explaining she had to do. Four minutes later she hadher money. Three minutes after that she had paid for the Dawn Cityreservation as Birna Drellgannoth and deposited her thumbprints with theticket office. Counting what was left, she found it came to just under ahundred and thirty-eight. 

Definitely no dinner tonight! She needed a suitcase and a change ofclothing. And then she'd just better go sit in that hotel room. 

The street level traffic was moderate around the bank, but it began tothicken as she approached a shopping center two blocks farther on. Striding along, neither hurrying nor idling, Trigger decided she had itmade. The only real chance to catch up with her had been at the bank. And the old vault attendant wouldn't talk. 

Half a block from the shopping center, a row of spacers on planet-leavecame rollicking cheerily toward her, uniform jackets unbuttoned, threeCeyce girls in arm-linked formation among them, all happily high. Trigger shifted toward the edge of the sidewalk to let them pass. As theline swayed up on her left, there was a shadowy settling of an aircar atthe curb to her right. 

With loud outcries of glad recognition and whoops of laughter, the lineswung in about her, close. Bodies crowded against her; a hand wasclapped over her mouth. Other hands held her arms. Her feet came off theground and she had a momentary awareness of being rushed expertlyforward. 

Then she was in the car, half on her side over the rear seat, two verystrong hands clamping her wrists together behind her back. As she suckedin her breath for a yell, the door snapped shut behind her, cutting offthe rollicking "ha-ha-ha's" and other noises outside. 

There was a lurching twist as the aircar shot upward. 

5

The man who held Trigger's wrists shifted his grip up her arms, andturned her a little so that she could sit upright on the seat, facedhalf away from him. She had got only a glimpse of him as he caught her, but he seemed to be wearing the same kind of commercial spacer's uniformas the group which had hustled her into the car. The other man in thecar, the driver, sat up front with his back to them. He looked like anyordinary middle-aged civilian. 

Trigger let her breath out slowly. There was no point in yelling now. She could feel her legs tremble a little, but she didn't seem to beactually frightened. At least, not yet. 

"Spot anything so far?" the man who held her asked. It was a deep voice. It sounded matter-of-fact, quite unexcited. 

"Three possibles anyway, " the driver said with equal casualness. Hedidn't turn his head. "Make it two.... One very definite possible now, I'd say!"

"Better feed it to her then. "

The driver didn't reply, but the car's renewed surge of power pushedTrigger down hard on the seat. She couldn't see much more than ashifting piece of the sky line through the front view plate. Their owncar seemed to be rising at a tremendous rate. They were probably, shethought, already above the main traffic arteries over Ceyce. 

"Now, Miss Argee, " the man sitting beside her said, "I'd like toreassure you a little first. "

"Go ahead and reassure me, " Trigger said unsteadily. 

"You're in no slightest danger from us, " he said. "We're your friends. "

"Nice friends!" remarked Trigger. 

"I'll explain it all in a couple of minutes. There may be some fairlydangerous characters on our tail at the moment, and if they start tocatch up--"

"Which they seem to be doing, " the driver interrupted. "Hang on for afew fast turns when we hit the next cloud bank. "

"We'll probably shake them there, " the other man explained to Trigger. "In case we don't though, I'll need both hands free to handle the guns. "

"So?" she asked. 

"So I'd like to slip a set of cuffs on you for just a few minutes. I'vebeen informed you're a fairly tricky lady, and we don't want you to doanything thoughtless. You won't have them on very long. All right?"

Trigger bit her lip. It wasn't all right, and she didn't feel at allreassured so far. 

"Go ahead, " she said. 

He let go of her left arm, presumably to reach for the handcuffs. Shetwisted around on him and went into fast action. 

She was fairly proficient at the practice of unarmed mayhem. The troublewas that the big ape she was trying the stuff on seemed at least asadept and with twice her muscle. She lost a precious instant finding outthat the Denton was no longer in her robe pocket. After that she nevergot back the initiative. It didn't help either that the car suddenlyseemed to be trying to fly in three directions at once. 

All in all, about forty seconds passed before she was plumped back onthe seat, her hands behind her again, linked at the wrists by the smoothplastic cords of the cuffs. The ape stood behind the driver, his handsresting on the back of the seat. He wasn't, Trigger observed bitterly, even breathing hard. The view plate was full of the cottony whiteness ofa cloud heart. They seemed to be dropping again. 

One more violent swerve and they came flashing out into wet graycloud-shadow and on into brilliant sunlight. 

A few seconds passed. Then the ape remarked, "Looks like you lost them, chum. "

"Right, " said the driver. "Almost at the river now. I'll turn norththere and drop down. "

"Right, " said the ape. "Get us that far and we'll be out of trouble. "

A few minutes passed in silence. Presently Trigger sensed they wereslowing and losing altitude. Then a line of trees flashed by in the viewplate. "Nice flying!" the ape said. He punched the driver approvingly inthe shoulder and turned back to Trigger. 

They looked at each other for a few seconds. He was tall, dark-eyed, very deeply tanned, with thick sloping shoulders. He probably wasn'tmore than five or six years older than she was. He was studying hercuriously, and his eyes were remarkably steady. Something stirred in herfor a moment, a small chill of fear. Something passed through herthoughts, a vague odd impression, like a half aroused memory, of huge, cold, dangerous things far away. It was gone before she could grasp itmore clearly. She frowned. 

The ape smiled. It wasn't, Trigger saw, an entirely unpleasant face. "Sorry the party got rough, " he said. "Will you give parole if I takethose cuffs off and tell you what this is about?"

She studied him again. "Better tell me first, " she said shortly. 

"All right. We're taking you to Commissioner Tate. We'll be there inabout an hour. He'll tell you himself why he wanted to see you. "

Trigger's eyes narrowed for an instant. Secretly she felt very muchrelieved. Holati Tate, at any rate, wouldn't let anything reallyunpleasant happen to her--and she would find out at last what had beengoing on. 

"You've got an odd way of taking people places, " she observed. 

He laughed. "The grabber party wasn't scheduled. You'd indicated youwanted to speak to the Commissioner. We were sent to the Colonial Schoolto pick you up and escort you to him. When we found out you'ddisappeared, we had to do some fast improvising. Not my business to tellyou the reasons for that. "

Trigger said hesitantly, "Those people who were chasing this car--"

"What about them?" he asked thoughtfully. 

"Were they after _me_?"

"Well, " he said, "they weren't after me. Better let the Commissionertell you about that, too. Now--how about parole?"

She nodded. "Till you turn me over to the Commissioner. "

"Fair enough, " he said. "You're his problem then. " He took a small flatpiece of metal out of a pocket and reached back of her with it. Hedidn't seem to do more than touch the cuffs, but she felt the slickcoils loosen and drop away. 

Trigger rubbed her wrists. "Where's my gun?" she asked. 

"I've got it. I'll give it to the Commissioner. "

"How did you people find me so fast?"

"Police keep bank entrances under twenty-four hour visual survey. We hadsomeone watching their screens. You were spotted going in. " He sat downcompanionably beside her. "I'd introduce myself, but I don't know ifthat would fit in with the Commissioner's plans. "

Trigger shrugged. It still was quite possible, she decided, that her ownplans weren't completely spoiled. Holati and his friends didn'tnecessarily know about that vault account. If they did know she'd hadone and had closed it out, they could make a pretty good guess at whatshe'd done with the money. But if she just kept quiet, there might be anopportunity to get back to Ceyce and the Dawn City by tomorrow evening. 

"Cigarette?" the Commissioner's overmuscled henchman inquired amiably. 

Trigger glanced at him from the side. Not amiably. "No, thanks. "

"No hard feelings, are there?" He looked surprised. 

"Yes, " she said evenly. "There are. "

"Maybe, " the driver suggested from the front, "what Miss Argee could dowith is a shot of Puya. Flask's in my coat pocket. Left side. "

"There's an idea, " remarked Trigger's companion. He looked at her. "It'svery good Puya. "

"So choke on it, " Trigger told him gently. She settled back into thecorner of the seat and closed her eyes. "You can wake me up when we getto the Commissioner. "

 * * * * *

"In some way, " Holati Tate said, "this little item here seems to be atthe core of the whole plasmoid problem. Know what it is?"

Trigger looked at the little item with some revulsion. Dark green, marbled with pink streakings, it lay on the table between them, ratherlike a plump leech a foot and a half long. It was motionless except thatthe end nearest her shifted in a short arc from side to side, as if thething suffered from a very slow twitch. 

"One of the plasmoids obviously, " she said. "A jumpy one. " She blinkedat it. "Looks like that 113. Is it?"

She glanced around. Commissioner Tate and Professor Mantelish, who satin an armchair off to her right, were staring at her, eyebrows up, apparently surprised about something. "What's the matter?" she asked. 

"We're just wondering, " said Holati, "how you happen to remember 113, inparticular, out of the thousands of plasmoids on Harvest Moon. "

"Oh. One of the Junior Scientists on your Project mentioned the 112-113unit. That brought it to mind. Is this 113?"

"No, " said Holati Tate. "But it appears to be a duplicate of it. " He wasa mild-looking little man, well along in years, sparse and spruce in hisPrecol uniform. The small gray eyes in the sun-darkened, leathery faceweren't really mild, if you considered them more closely, or if you knewthe Commissioner. 

"Have to fill you in on some of the background first, Trigger girl, "he'd said, when she was brought to his little private office andinquired with some heat what the devil was up. The tall grabber hadn'tcome into the office with her. He asked the Commissioner from the doorwhether he should get Professor Mantelish to the conference room, andthe Commissioner nodded. Then the door closed and the two of them werealone. 

"I know it's looked odd, " Commissioner Tate admitted, "but thecircumstances have been very odd. Still are. And I didn't want to worryyou any more than I had to. "

Trigger, unmollified, pointed out that the methods he'd used not toworry her hardly had been soothing. 

"I know that, too, " said the Commissioner. "But if I'd told youeverything immediately, you would have had reason enough to be worriedfor the past two months, rather than just for a day or so. The situationhas improved now, very considerably. In fact, in another few days youshouldn't have any more reason to worry at all. " He smiled briefly. "Atleast, no more than the rest of us. "

Trigger felt a bit dry-lipped suddenly. "I do at present?" she asked. 

"You did till today. There's been some pretty heavy heat on you, Triggergirl. We're switching most of it off tonight. For good, I think. "

"You mean some heat will be left?"

"In a way, " he said. "But that should be cleared up too in the nextthree or four days. Anyway we can drop most of the mystery act tonight. "

Trigger shook her head. "It isn't being dropped very fast!" sheobserved. 

"I told you I couldn't tell it backwards, " the Commissioner saidpatiently. "All right if we start filling in the background now?"

"I guess we'd better, " she admitted. 

"Fine, " said Commissioner Tate. He got to his feet. "Then let's go joinMantelish. "

"Why the professor?"

"He could help a lot with the explaining. If he's in the mood. Anywayhe's got a kind of pet I'd like you to look at. "

"A pet!" cried Trigger. She shook her head again and stood upresignedly. "Lead on, Commissioner!"

They joined Mantelish and his plasmoid weirdie in what looked like thedining room of what had looked like an old-fashioned hunting lodge whenthe aircar came diving down on it between two ice-sheeted mountainpeaks. Trigger wasn't sure in just what section of the main continentthey were; but there were only two or three alternatives--it was high inthe mountains, and night came a lot faster here than it did aroundCeyce. 

She greeted Mantelish and sat down at the table. Then the Commissionerlocked the doors and introduced her to the professor's pet. 

"It's labelled 113-A, " he said now. "Even the professor isn't certain hecould distinguish between the two. Right, Mantelish?"

"That is true, " said Mantelish, "at present. " He was a very big, ratherfat but healthy-looking old man with a thick thatch of white hair and aruddy face. "Without a physical comparison--" He shrugged. 

"What's so important about the critter?" Trigger asked, eyeing the leechagain. One good thing about it, she thought--it wasn't equipped to eyeher back. 

"It goes back to the time, " the Commissioner said, "when Mantelish andFayle and Azol were conducting the first League investigation of theplasmoids on Harvest Moon. You recall the situation?"

"If you mean their attempts to get the things to show some signs oflife, I do, naturally. "

"One of them got lively enough for poor old Azol, didn't it?" ProfessorMantelish rumbled from his armchair. 

Trigger grimaced. Doctor Azol's fate might be one of the things that hadgiven her a negative attitude towards plasmoids. With Mantelish andDoctor Gess Fayle, Azol had been the third of the three big U-Leagueboys in charge of the initial investigation on Harvest Moon. As sheremembered it, it was Azol who discovered that Plasmoids occasionallycould be induced to absorb food. Almost any kind of food, it turned out, so long as it contained a sufficient quantity of protein. What hadhappened to Azol looked like a particularly unfortunate result of thediscovery. It was assumed an untimely coronary had been the reason hehad fallen helplessly into the feeding trough of one of the largestplasmoids. By the time he was found, all of him from the knees on upalready had been absorbed. 

"I meant your efforts to get them to work, " she said. 

Commissioner Tate looked at Mantelish. "You tell her about that part ofit, " he suggested. 

Mantelish shook his head. "I'd get too technical, " he said resignedly. "I always do. At least they say so. You tell her. "

But Holati Tate's eyes had shifted suddenly to the table. "Hey, now!" hesaid in a low voice. 

Trigger followed his gaze. After a moment she made a soft, suckingsound of alarmed distaste. 

"Ugh!" she remarked. "It's moving!"

"So it is, " Holati said. 

"Towards me!" said Trigger. "I think--"

"Don't get startled. Mantelish!"

Mantelish already was coming up slowly behind Trigger's chair. "Don'tmove!" he cautioned her. 

"Why not?" said Trigger. 

"Hush, my dear. " Mantelish laid a large, heavy hand on each of hershoulders and bore down slightly. "It's sensitive! This is veryinteresting. Very. "

Perhaps it was. She kept watching the plasmoid. It had thinned outsomewhat and was gliding very slowly but very steadily across the table. Definitely in her direction. 

"Ho-ho!" said Mantelish in a thunderous murmur. "Perhaps it likes you, Trigger! Ho-ho!" He seemed immensely pleased. 

"Well, " Trigger said helplessly, "I don't like it!" She wriggledslightly under Mantelish's hands. "And I'd sooner get out of thischair!"

"Don't be childish, Trigger, " said the professor annoyedly. "You'rebehaving as if it were, in some manner, offensive. "

"It is, " she said. 

"Hush, my dear, " Mantelish said absently, putting on a little morepressure. Trigger hushed resignedly. They watched. In about a minute, the gliding thing reached the edge of the table. Trigger gatheredherself to duck out from under Mantelish's hands and go flying out ofthe chair if it looked as if the plasmoid was about to drop into herlap. 

But it stopped. For a few seconds it lay motionless. Then it graduallyraised its front end and began waving it gently back and forth in theair. At her, Trigger suspected. 

"Yipes!" she said, horrified. 

The front end sank back. The plasmoid lay still again. After a minute itwas still lying still. 

"Show's over for the moment, I guess, " said the Commissioner. 

"I'm afraid so, " said Professor Mantelish. His big hands went away fromTrigger's aching shoulders. "You startled it, Trigger!" he boomed ather accusingly. 

6

The point of it, Holati Tate explained, was that this had been moreactivity than 113-A normally displayed over a period of a week. And113-A was easily the most active plasmoid of them all nowadays. 

"It is, of course, possible, " Mantelish said, arousing from deepthought, "that it was attracted by your body odor. "

"Thank you, Mantelish!" said Trigger. 

"You're welcome, my dear. " Mantelish had pulled his chair up to thetable; he hitched himself forward in it. "We shall now, " he announced, "try a little experiment. Pick it up, Trigger. "

She stared at him. "Pick it up! No, Mantelish. We shall now try someother little experiment. "

Mantelish furrowed his Jovian brows. Holati gave her a small smileacross the table. "Just touch it with the tip of a finger, " hesuggested. "You can do that much for the professor, can't you?"

"Barely, " Trigger told him grimly. But she reached out and put acautious finger tip to the less lively end of 113-A. After a moment shesaid, "Hey!" She moved the finger lightly along the thing's surface. Ithad a velvety, smooth, warm feeling, rather like a kitten. "You know, "she said surprised, "it feels sort of nice! It just looks disgusting. "

"Disgusting!" Mantelish boomed, offended again. 

The Commissioner held up a hand. "Just a moment, " he said. He'd pickedup some signal Trigger hadn't noticed, for he went over to the wall nowand touched something there. A release button apparently. The door tothe room opened. Trigger's grabber came in. The door closed behind him. He was carrying a tray with a squat brown flask and four rather smallglasses on it. 

He gave Trigger a grin. She gave him a tentative smile in return. TheCommissioner had introduced him: Heslet Quillan--Major Heslet Quillan, of the Subspace Engineers. For a Subspace Engineer, Trigger had thoughtskeptically, he was a pretty good grabber. But there was a qualifiedtruce in the room. It would last, at least, until Holati finished hisexplaining. There was no really good reason not to include Major Quillanin it. 

"Ah, Puya!" Professor Mantelish exclaimed, advancing on the tray asQuillan set it on the table. Mantelish seemed to have forgotten aboutplasmoid experiments for the moment, and Trigger didn't intend to remindhim. She drew her hand back quietly from 113-A. The professorunstoppered the flask. "You'll have some, Trigger, I'm sure? The onlyreally good thing the benighted world of Rumli ever produced. "

"My great-grandmother, " Trigger remarked, "was a Rumlian. " She watchedhim fill the four glasses with a thin purple liquid. "I've never triedit; but yes, thanks. "

Quillan put one of the glasses in front of her. 

"And we shall drink, " Mantelish suggested, with a suave flourish of hisPuya, "to your great-grandmother!"

"We shall also, " suggested Major Quillan, pulling a chair up to thetable for himself, "Advise Trigger to take a very small sip on her firstgo at the stuff. "

Nobody had invited him to sit down. But nobody was objecting either. Well, that fitted, Trigger thought. 

She sipped. It was tart and hot. Very hot. She set the glass back on thetable, inhaled with difficulty, exhaled quiveringly. Tears gathered inher eyes. 

"Very good!" she husked. 

"Very good, " the Commissioner agreed. He put down his empty glass andsmacked his lips lightly. "And now, " he said briskly, "let's get on withthis conference. "

Trigger glanced around the room while Quillan refilled three glasses. The small live coal she had swallowed was melting away; a warm glowbegan to spread through her. It did look like the dining room of ahunting lodge. The woodwork was dark, old-looking, worn with muchpolishing. Horned heads of various formidable Maccadon life-formsadorned the walls. 

But it was open season now on a different kind of game. Three men hadwalked briskly past them when Quillan brought her in by the front door. They hadn't even looked at her. There were sounds now and then from someof the other rooms, and that general feeling of a considerable number ofpeople around--of being at an operating headquarters of some sort, whichhummed with quiet activity. 

One of the things, Holati Tate said, which had not become publicknowledge so far was that Professor Mantelish actually succeeded ingetting some of the plasmoids on the Old Galactic base back intooperation. One plasmoid in particular. 

The reason the achievement hadn't been announced was that for nearly sixweeks no one except the three men directly involved in the experimentshad known about them. And during that time other things occurred whichmade subsequent publicity seem very inadvisable. 

Mantelish scowled. "We made up a report to the League the day of theinitial discovery, " he informed Trigger. "It was a complete and detailedreport!"

"True, " Holati said, "but the report the U-League got didn't happen tobe the one Professor Mantelish helped make up. We'll go into that later. The plasmoid the professor was experimenting with was the 112-113 unit. "

He shifted his gaze to Mantelish. "Still want me to tell it?"

"Yes, yes!" Mantelish said impatiently. "You will oversimplify grossly, of course, but it should do for the moment. At a more leisurely time Ishall be glad to give Trigger an accurate description of the processes. "

Trigger smiled at him. "Thank you, Professor!" She took her second sipof the Puya. Not bad. 

"Well, Mantelish was dosing this plasmoid with mild electricalstimulations, " Holati went on. "He noticed suddenly that as he did itother plasmoids in that section of Harvest Moon were indicating signs ofactivity. So he called in Doctor Fayle and Doctor Azol. "

The three scientists discovered quickly that stimulation of the 112 partof the unit was in fact producing random patterns of plasmoid motionthroughout the entire base, while an electrical prod at 113 broughteverything to an abrupt stop again. After a few hours of this, 112suddenly extruded a section of its material, which detached itself andmoved off slowly under its own power through half the station, trailedwith great excitement by Mantelish and Azol. It stopped at a point whereanother plasmoid had been removed for laboratory investigations, climbedup and settled down in the place left vacant by its predecessor. It thenreshaped itself into a copy of the predecessor, and remained where itwas. Obviously a replacement. 

There was dignified scientific jubilation among the three. This wasprecisely the kind of information the U-League--and everybody else--hadbeen hoping to obtain. 112-113 tentatively could be assumed to be a kindof monitor of the station's activities. It could be induced to go intoaction and to activate the other plasmoids. With further observation andrefinement of method, its action undoubtedly could be shifted from therandom to the purposeful. Finally, and most importantly, it had shownitself capable of producing a different form of plasmoid life to fulfilla specific requirement. 

In essence, the riddles presented by the Old Galactic Station appearedto be solved. 

The three made up their secret report to the U-League. Included was arecommendation to authorize distribution of ten per cent of the lesssignificant plasmoids to various experimental centers in the Hub--thebig and important centers which had been bringing heavy politicalpressure to bear on the Federation to let them in on the investigation. That should keep them occupied, while the U-League concluded the reallyimportant work. 

"Next day, " said Holati, "Doctor Gess Fayle presented Mantelish with atransmitted message from U-League Headquarters. It containedinstructions to have Fayle mount the 112-113 unit immediately in one ofthe League ships at Harvest Moon and bring it quietly to Maccadon. "

Mantelish frowned. "The message was faked!" he boomed. 

"Not only that, " said Holati. "The actual report Doctor Fayle hadtransmitted the day before to the League was revised to the extent thatit omitted any reference to 112-113. " He glanced thoughtfully atMantelish. "As a matter of fact, it was almost a month and a half beforeLeague Headquarters became aware of the importance of the unit. "

The professor snorted. "Azol, " he explained to Trigger, "had become avictim of his scientific zeal. And I--"

"Doctor Azol, " said the Commissioner, "as you may remember, had hislittle mishap with the plasmoid just two days after Fayle departed. "

"And I, " Mantelish went on, "was involved in other urgent research. Howwas I to know what that villain Fayle had been up to? A vice presidentof the University League!"

"Well, " Trigger said, "what had Doctor Fayle been up to?"

"We don't know yet, " Holati told her. "Obviously he had something inmind with the faked order and the alteration of the report. But the onlything we can say definitely is that he disappeared on the League ship hehad requisitioned, along with its personnel and the 112-113 plasmoid, and hasn't shown up again. 

"And that plasmoid unit now appears to have been almost certainly thekey unit of the entire Old Galactic Station--the unit that kepteverything running along automatically there for thirty thousand years. "

He glanced at Quillan. "Someone at the door. We'll hold it while yousee what they want. "

7

The burly character who had appeared at the door said diffidently thatProfessor Mantelish had wanted to be present while his lab equipment wasstowed aboard. If the professor didn't mind, things were about that faralong. 

Mantelish excused himself and went off with the messenger. The doorclosed. Quillan came back to his chair. 

"We're moving the outfit later tonight, " the Commissioner explained. "Mantelish is coming along--plus around eight tons of his lab equipment. Plus his special U-League guards. "

"Oh?" Trigger picked up the Puya glass. She looked into it. It wasempty. "Moving where?" she asked. 

"Manon, " said the Commissioner. "Tell you about that later. "

Every last muscle in Trigger's body seemed to go limp simultaneously. She settled back slightly in the chair, surprised by the force of thereaction. She hadn't realized by now how keyed up she was! She sighed asmall sigh. Then she smiled at Quillan. 

"Major, " she said, "how about a tiny little refill on that Puya--abouthalf?"

Quillan took care of the tiny little refill. 

Commissioner Tate said, "By the way, Quillan does have a degree insubspace engineering and gets assigned to the Engineers now and then. But his real job's Space Scout Intelligence. "

Trigger nodded. "I'd almost guessed it!" She gave Quillan another smile. She nearly gave 113-A a smile. 

"And now, " said the Commissioner, "we'll talk more freely. We tellMantelish just as little as we can. To tell you the truth, Trigger, theprofessor is a terrible handicap on an operation like this. I understandhe was a great friend of your father's. "

"Yes, " she said. "Going over for visits to Mantelish's garden with myfather is one of the earliest things I remember. I can imagine he's aproblem!" She shifted her gaze curiously from one to the other of thetwo men. "What are you people doing? Looking for Gess Fayle and the keyunit?"

Holati Tate said, "That's about it. We're one of a few thousandFederation groups assigned to the same general job. Each group works atits specialties, and the information gets correlated. " He paused. "TheFederation Council--they're the ones we're working for directly--theCouncil's biggest concern is the very delicate political situationthat's involved. They feel it could develop suddenly into a dangerousone. They may be right. "

"In what way?" Trigger asked. 

"Well, suppose that key unit is lost and stays lost. Suppose all theother plasmoids put together don't contain enough information to showhow the Old Galactics produced the things and got them to operate. "

"Somebody would get that worked out pretty soon, wouldn't they?"

"Not necessarily, or even probably, according to Mantelish and someother people who know what's happened. There seem to be too many basicfactors missing. It might be necessary to develop a whole new class ofsciences first. And that could take a few centuries. "

"Well, " Trigger admitted, "I could get along without the thingsindefinitely. "

"Same here, " the plasmoid nabob agreed ungratefully. "Weird beasties!But--let's see. At present there are twelve hundred and fifty-eightmember worlds to the Federation, aren't there?"

"More or less. "

"And the number of planetary confederacies, subplanetary governments, industrial, financial and commercial combines, assorted power groups, etc. And so on, is something I'd hate to have to calculate. "

"What are you driving at?" she asked. 

"They've all been told we're heading for a new golden age, courtesy ofthe plasmoid science. Practically everybody has believed it. Now there'sconsiderable doubt. "

"Oh, " she said. "Of course--practically everybody is going to get veryunhappy, eh?"

"That, " said Commissioner Tate, "is only a little of it. "

"Yes, the thing isn't just lost. Somebody's got it. "

"Very likely. "

Trigger nodded. "Fayle's ship might have got wrecked accidentally, ofcourse. But the way he took off shows he planned to disappear--acrack-up on top of that would be too much of a coincidence. So any oneof umpteen thousands of organizations in the Hub might be the one thathas that plasmoid now!"

"Including, " said Holati, "any one of the two hundred and fourteenrestricted worlds. Their treaties of limitation wouldn't have let themget into the plasmoid pie until the others had been at it a decade orso. They would have been quite eager.... "

There was a little pause. Then Trigger said, "Lordy! The thing couldeven set off another string of wars--"

"That's a point the Council is nervous about, " he said. 

"Well, it certainly is a mess. You would have thought the Federationmight have had a Security Chief in on that first operation. Right thereon Harvest Moon!"

"They did, " he said. "It was Fayle. "

"Oh! Pretty embarrassing. " Trigger was silent a moment. "Holati, couldthose things ever become as valuable as people keep saying? It's allsounded a little exaggerated to me. "

The Commissioner said he'd wondered about it too. "I'm not enough of abiologist to make an educated guess. What it seems to boil down to isthat they might. Which would be enough to tempt a lot of people togamble very high for a chance to get control of the plasmoidprocess--and we know definitely that some people are gambling for it. "

"How do you know?"

"We've been working a couple of leads here. Pretty short leads so far, but you work with what you can get. " He nodded at the table. "We pickedup the first lead through 113-A. "

Trigger glanced down. The plasmoid lay there some inches from the sideof her hand. "You know, " she said uncomfortably, "old Repulsive movedagain while we were talking! Towards my hand. " She drew the hand away. 

"I was watching it, " Major Quillan said reassuringly from the end of thetable. "I would have warned you, but it stopped when it got as far as itis now. That was around five minutes ago. "

Trigger reached back and gave old Repulsive a cautious pat. "Very livelycharacter! He does feel pleasant to touch. Kitty-cat pleasant! How didyou get a lead through him?"

"Mantelish brought it back to Maccadon with him, mainly because of itssimilarity to 113. He was curious because he couldn't even guess at whatits function was. It was just lying there in a cubicle. So he didconsiderable experimenting with it while he waited for Gess Fayle toshow up--and League Headquarters fidgeted around, hoping to get thekind of report from Mantelish and Fayle that Mantelish thought they'dalready received. They were wondering where Fayle was, too. But theyknew Fayle was Security, so they didn't like to get too nosy. "

Trigger shook her head. "Wonderful! So what happened with 113-A?"

"Mantelish began to get results with it, " the Commissioner said. "Oneexperiment was rather startling. He'd been trying that electricalstimulation business. Nothing happened until he had finished. Then hetouched the plasmoid, and it fed the whole charge back to him. Apparently it was a fairly hefty dose. "

She laughed delightedly. "Good for Repulsive! Stood up for his rights, eh?"

"Mantelish gained some such impression anyway. He became more cautiouswith it after that. And then he learned something that should beimportant. He was visiting another lab where they had a couple ofplasmoids which actually moved now and then. He had 113-A in his coatpocket. The two lab plasmoids stopped moving while he was there. Theyhaven't moved since. "

"Like the Harvest Moon plasmoids when they stimulated 113?"

"Right. He thought about that, and then located another moving plasmoid. He dropped in to look it over, with 113-A in his pocket again, and itstopped. He did the same thing in one more place and then quit. Therearen't that many moving plasmoids around. Those three labs are stillwondering what hit their specimens. "

She studied 113-A curiously. "A mighty mite! What does Mantelish make ofit?"

"He thinks the 112-113 unit forms a kind of self-regulating system. Thebig one induces plasmoid activity, the little one modifies it. This113-A might be a spare regulator. But it seems to be more than aspare--which brings us to that first lead we got. A gang of raiderscrashed Mantelish's lab one night. "

"When was that?"

"Some months ago. Before you and I left Manon. The professor was out, and 113-A had gone along in his pocket as usual. But his two lab guardsand one of the raiders were killed. The others got away. Gess Fayle'sdefection was a certainty by then, and everybody was very nervous. TheFeds got there, fast, and dead-brained the raider. They learned just twothings. One, he'd been mind-blocked and couldn't have spilled anysignificant information even if they had got him alive. The other itemthey drew from his brain was a clear impression of the target of theraid--the professor's pal here. "

"Uh-huh, " Trigger said, lost in thought. She poked Repulsive lightly. "That would be Fayle and his associates then. Or somebody who knew aboutthem. Did they want to kill it or grab it?"

The Commissioner looked at her. "Grab it, was the dead-brain report. Why?"

"Just wondering. Would make a difference, wouldn't it? Did they tryagain?"

"There've been five more attempts, " he said. 

"And what's everybody concluded from that?"

"They want 113-A in a very bad way. So they need it. "

"In connection with the key unit?" Trigger asked. 

"Probably. "

"That makes everything look very much better, doesn't it?"

"Quite a little, " he said. "The unit may not work, or may not worksatisfactorily, unless 113-A is in the area. Mantelish talks ofsomething he calls proximity influence. Whatever that is, 113-A hasdemonstrated it has it. "

"So, " Trigger said, "they might have two thirds of what everybody wants, and you might have one third. Right here on the table. How many of thelater raiders did you catch?"

"All of them, " said the Commissioner. "Around forty. We got them dead, we got them alive. It didn't make much difference. They were hiredhands. Very expensive hired hands, but still just that. Most of themdidn't know a thing we could use. The ones that did know something weremind-blocked again. "

"I thought, " Trigger said reflectively, "you could _un_block someonelike that. "

"You can, sometimes. If you're very good at it and if you have timeenough. We couldn't afford to wait a year. They died before they couldtell us anything. "

There was a pause. Then Trigger asked, "How did you get involved inthis, personally?"

"More or less by accident, " the Commissioner said. "It was in connectionwith our second lead. "

"That's me, huh?" she said unhappily. 

"Yes. "

"Why would anyone want to grab me? I don't know anything. "

He shook his head. "We haven't found out yet. We're hoping we will, in avery few days. "

"Is that one of the things you can't tell me about?"

"I can tell you most of what I know at the moment, " said theCommissioner. "Remember the night we stopped off at Evalee on the way infrom Manon?"

"Yes, " she said. "That big hotel!"

8

"About an hour after you'd decided to hit the bunk, " Holati said, "Iportaled back to your rooms to pick up some Precol reports we'd beensetting up. "

Trigger nodded. "I remember the reports. "

"A couple of characters were working on your doors when I got there. They went for their guns, unfortunately. But I called the nearest ScoutIntelligence office and had them dead-brained. "

"Why that?" she asked. 

"It could have been an accident--a couple of ordinary thugs. But theirequipment looked a little too good for ordinary thugs. I didn't knowjust what to be suspicious of, but I got suspicious anyway. "

"That's you, all right, " Trigger acknowledged. "What were they?"

"They had an Evalee record which told us more than the brains did. Theywere high-priced boys. Their brains told us they'd allowed themselves tobe mind-blocked on this particular job. High-priced boys won't do thatunless they can set their standard price very much higher. It didn'tlook at all any more as if they'd come to your door by accident. "

"No, " she admitted. 

"The Feds got in on it then. There'd been that business in Mantelish'slab. There were similarities in the pattern. You knew Mantelish. You'dbeen on Harvest Moon with him. They thought there could be aconnection. "

"But what connection?" she protested. "I _know_ I don't know anythingthat could do anybody any good!"

He shrugged. "I can't figure it either, Trigger girl. But the upshot ofit was that I was put in charge of this phase of the generalinvestigation. If there is a connection, it'll come out eventually. Inany case, we want to know who's been trying to have you picked up andwhy. "

She studied his face with troubled eyes. 

"That's quite definite, is it?" she asked. "There couldn't possiblystill be a mistake?"

"No. It's definite. "

"So that's what the grabber business in the Colonial School yesterdaywas about.... "

He nodded. "It was their first try since the Evalee matter. "

"Why do you think they waited so long?"

"Because they suspected you were being guarded. It's difficult to keepan adequate number of men around without arousing doubts in interestedobservers. "

Trigger glanced at the plasmoid. "That sounds, " she remarked, "as ifyou'd let other interested observers feel you'd left them a good openingto get at Repulsive. "

He didn't quite smile. "I might have done that. Don't tell the Council. "

Trigger pursed her lips. "I won't. So the grabbers who were after mefigured I was booby-trapped. But then they came in anyway. That doesn'tseem very bright. Or did you do something again to make them think theroad was clear?"

"No, " he said. "They were trying to clear the road for themselves. Wethought they would finally. The deal was set up as a one-two. "

"As a what?"

"One-two. You slug into what could be a trap like that with one gang. Ifit was a trap, they were sacrifices. You hope the opposition will nowrelax its precautions. Sometimes it does--and a day or so later you'reback for the real raid. That works occasionally. Anyway it was the planin this case. "

"How do you know?"

"They'd started closing in for the grab in Ceyce when Quillan's grouplocated you. So Quillan grabbed you first. "

She flushed. "I wasn't as smart as I thought, was I?"

The Commissioner grunted. "Smart enough to give us a king-sizedheadache! But _they_ didn't have any trouble finding you. We discoveredtonight that some kind of tracer material had been worked into all yourclothes. Even the flimsies. Somebody may have been planted in the schoollaundry, but that's not important now. " He looked at her for a moment. "What made you decide to take off so suddenly?" he asked. 

Trigger shrugged. "I was getting pretty angry with you, " she admitted. "More or less with everybody. Then I applied for a transfer, and theapplication bounced--from Evalee! I figured I'd had enough and that I'djust quietly clear out. So I did--or thought I did. "

"Can't blame you, " said Holati. 

Trigger said, "I still think it would have been smarter to keep meinformed right from the start of what was going on. "

He shook his head. "I wouldn't be telling you a thing even now, " hesaid, "if it hadn't been definitely established that you're alreadyinvolved in the matter. This could develop into a pretty messyoperation. I wouldn't have wanted you in on it, if it could have beenavoided. And if you weren't going to be in on it, I couldn't go spillingFederation secrets to you. "

"I'm in on it, definitely, eh?"

He nodded. "For the duration. "

"But you're still not telling me everything?"

"There're a few things I can't tell you, " he said. "I'm following ordersin that. "

Trigger smiled faintly. "That's a switch! I didn't know you knew how. "

"I've followed plenty of orders in my time, " the Commissioner said, "when I thought they made sense. And I think these do. "

Trigger was silent a moment. "You said a while ago that most of the heatwas to go off me tonight. Can you talk about that?"

"Yes, that's all right. " He considered. "I'll have to tell you somethingelse again first--why we're going to Manon. "

She settled back in her chair. "Go ahead. "

"Somebody got the idea that one of the things Gess Fayle might have doneis to arrange things so he wouldn't have to come back to the Hub for awhile. If he could set up shop on some outworld far enough away, andtinker around with that plasmoid unit for a year or so until he knew allabout it, he might do better for himself than by simply selling it tosomebody. "

"But that would be pretty risky, wouldn't it?" said Trigger. "With justthe equipment he could pack on a League transport. "

"Not very much risk, " said the Commissioner, "if he had an agreement tohave an Independent Fleet meet him. "

"Oh. " She nodded. 

"And by what is, at all events, an interesting coincidence, " theCommissioner went on, "we've had word that an outfit called Vishni'sFleet hasn't been heard from for some months. Their I-Fleet area is along way out beyond Manon, but Fayle could have made it there, at Leagueship speeds, in about twenty days. Less, if Vishni sent a few pilots tomeet him and guide him out of subspace. If he's bought Vishni's, he'shad his pick of a few hundred uncharted habitable planets and a fewthousand very expert outworlders to see nothing happens to himplanetside. And Vishni's boys are exactly the kind of crumbs you couldbuy for a deal like that. 

"Now, what's been done is to hire a few of the other I-Fleets aroundthere and set them and as many Space Scout squadrons as could be kickedloose from duty elsewhere to surveying the Vishni territory. Our outfitis in charge of that operation. And Manon, of course, is a lot betterpoint from which to conduct it than the Hub. If something is discoveredthat looks interesting enough to investigate in detail, we'll only be aweek's run away. 

"So we've been ready to move for the past two weeks now, which was whenthe first reports started coming in from the Vishni area--negativereports so far, by the way. I've kept stalling from day to day, becausethere were also indications that your grabber friends might be gettingset to swing at you finally. It seemed tidier to get that matter clearedup first. Now they've swung, and we'll go. "

He rubbed his chin. "The nice thing about it all, " he remarked, "is thatwe're going there with the two items the opposition has revealed itwants. We're letting them know those items will be available in theManon System henceforward. They might get discouraged and just drop thewhole project. If they do, that's fine. We'll go ahead with cleaning upthe Vishni phase of the operation. 

"But, " he continued, "the indications are they can't drop their projectany more than we can drop looking for that key unit. So we'll expectthem to show up in Manon. When they do, they'll be working in unfamiliarterritory and in a system where they have only something like fiftythousand people to hide out in, instead of a planetary civilization. Ithink they'll find things getting very hot for them very fast in Manon. "

"_Very_ good, " said Trigger. "That I like! But what makes you think theopposition is just one group? There might be a bunch of them by now. Maybe even fighting among themselves. "

"I'd bet on at least two groups myself, " he said. "And if they'refighting, they've got our blessing. They're still all opposition as faras we're concerned. "

She nodded, "How are you letting them know about the move?"

"The mountains around here are lousy with observers. Very cute trickssome of them use--one boy has been sitting in a hollow tree for weeks. We let them see what we want to. This evening they saw you coming in. Later tonight they'll see you climbing into the ship with the rest ofthe party and taking off. They've already picked up messages to tellthem just where the ship's going. " He paused. "But you've got a job tofinish up here first, Trigger. That'll take about four days. So it won'treally be you they see climbing into the ship. "

"What!" She straightened up. 

"We've got a facsimile for you, " he explained. "Girl agent. She goesalong to draw the heat to Manon. "

Trigger felt herself tightening up slowly all over. 

"What's this job you're talking about?" she asked evenly. 

"Can't tell you in too much detail. But around four days from nowsomebody is coming in to Maccadon to interview you. "

"Interview me? What about?"

He hesitated a moment. "There's a theory, " he said, "that you might haveinformation you don't know you have. And that the people who sentgrabbers after you want that information. If it's true, the interviewwill bring it out. "

Her mouth went dry suddenly. She turned her head to Quillan. "Major, "she said, "I think I'd like that cigarette now. "

He came over and lit one for her. Trigger thanked him and puffed. Andshe'd almost spilled everything, she was thinking. The paid-upreservation. Every last thing. 

"I'd like to get it straight, " she said. "What you're talking aboutsounds like it's a mind-search job, Holati. "

"It's in that class, " he said. "But it won't be an ordinary mind-search. The people who are coming here are top experts at that kind of work. "

She nodded. "I don't know much about it.... Do they think somebody's gotto me with a hypno-spray or something? That I've been conditioned?Something like that?"

"I don't know, Trigger, " he said. "It may be something in that line. But whatever it is, they'll be able to handle it. "

Trigger moistened her lips, "I was thinking, you know, " she said. "Supposing I'm mind-blocked. "

He shook his head. "I can tell you that, anyway, " he said. "We alreadyknow you're not. "

Trigger was silent a moment. Then she said, "After that interview'sover, I'm to ship out to Manon--is that it?"

"That's right. "

"But it would depend on the outcome of that interview too, wouldn't it?"Trigger pointed out. "I mean you can't really be sure what those peoplemight decide, can you?"

"Yes, I can, " he said. "This thing's been all scheduled out, Trigger. And the next step of the schedule for you is Manon. Nothing else. "

She didn't believe him in the least. He couldn't know. She nodded. 

"Guess I might as well play along. " She looked at him. "I don't think Ireally had much choice, did I?"

"Afraid not, " he admitted. "It's one of those things that just have tobe done. But you won't find it all bad. Your companion, by the way, forthe next three days will be Mihul. "

"Mihul!" Trigger exclaimed. 

"Right there, " said Mihul's voice. Trigger swung around in her chair. Mihul stood in a door which had appeared in the full wall of the room. She gave Trigger a smile. Trigger looked back at the Commissioner. 

"I don't get it, " she said. 

"Oh, Mihul's in Scout Intelligence, " he said, "wouldn't be here if sheweren't. "

"Been an agent for eighteen years, " Mihul said, coming forward. "Hi, Trigger, surprised?"

"Yes, " Trigger admitted. "Very. "

"They brought me into this job, " Mihul said, "because they figured youand I would get along together just fine. "

9

It was really infernally bad luck! Mihul was going to be the least easyof wardens to get away from ... Particularly in time to catch a linertomorrow night. Mihul knew her much too well. 

"Like to come along and meet your facsimile now?" Mihul inquired. Shegrinned. "Most people find the first time quite an experience. "

Trigger stood up resignedly. "All right, " she said. They were beingpolite about it, but it was clear that it was still a cop and prisonersituation. And old friend Mihul! She remembered something then. "Ibelieve Major Quillan has my gun. "

He looked at her thoughtfully, not smiling. "No, " he said. "Gave it toMihul. "

"That's right, " said Mihul. "Let's go, kid. "

They went out through the door that had appeared in the wall. It closedagain behind them. 

The facsimile stood up from behind a table at which she had beensitting as Trigger and Mihul came into the room. She gave Trigger abrief, impersonal glance, then looked at Mihul. 

Mihul performed no introductions. 

"Dress, robe and scarf, " she said to the facsimile. "The shoes are closeenough. " She turned to Trigger. "She'll be wearing your street clotheswhen she leaves, " she said. "Could we have the dress now?"

Trigger pulled the dress over her head, tossed it to Mihul and stood inher underwear, looking at her double slip out of her street clothes. They did seem to be a very close match in size and proportions. Watchingthe shifting play of slim muscles in the long legs and smooth back, Trigger decided the similarity was largely a natural one. Thesilver-blonde hair was the same, of course. The gray eyes seemed almostidentical--and the rest of the face was a little _too_ identical! Theymust have used a life-mask there. 

It was a bit uncanny. Like seeing one's mirror image start moving aboutindependently. If the girl had talked, it might have reduced the effect. But she remained silent. 

She put on the dress Trigger had been wearing and smoothed it down. Mihul surveyed the result. She nodded. "Perfect. " She took Trigger'srobe and scarf from the back of a chair where someone had draped themand handed them over. 

"You won't wear the scarf, " she said. "Just shove it into a pocket ofthe coat. "

The girl slung the cloak over her shoulder and stood holding the scarf. Mihul looked her over once more. "You'll do, " she said. She smiledbriefly. "All right. "

The facsimile glanced at Trigger again, turned and moved attractivelyout of the room. Trigger frowned. 

"Something wrong?" Mihul asked. She had gone over to a wall basin andwas washing out a tumbler. 

"Why does she walk like that?"

"The little swing in the rear? She's studied it. " Mihul half filled thetumbler with water, fished a transparent splinter of something out of apocket and cracked the splinter over the edge of the glass. "Among yourfriends it's referred to as the Argee Lilt. She's got you down pat, kid. "

Trigger didn't comment. "Am I supposed to put on her clothes?"

"No. We've got another costume for you. " Mihul came over, holding outthe glass. "This is for you. "

Trigger looked at the glass suspiciously. "What's in it?"

The blue eyes regarded her mildly. "You could call it a sedative. "

"Don't need any. Thanks. "

"Better take it anyway. " Mihul patted her hip with her other hand. "Little hypo gun here. That's the alternative. "

"What!"

"That's right. Same type of charge as in your fancy Denton. Stuff in theglass is easier to take and won't leave you groggy. "

"What's the idea?"

"I've known you quite a while, " said Mihul. "And I was watching you thelast twenty minutes in that room through a screen. You'll take off againif you get the least chance. I don't blame you a bit. You're beingpushed around. But now it's my job to see you don't take off; and untilwe get to where you're going, I want to be sure you'll stay quiet. "

She still held out the glass, in a long, tanned, capable hand. She stoodthree inches taller than Trigger, weighted thirty-five pounds more. Notan ounce of that additional thirty-five pounds was fat. If she'd neededassistance, the hunting lodge was full of potential helpers. She didn't. 

"I never claimed I liked this arrangement, " Trigger said carefully. "Idid say I'd go along with it. I will. Isn't that enough?"

"Sure, " Mihul said promptly. "Give word of parole?"

There was a long pause. 

"No!" Trigger said. 

"I thought not. Drink or gun?"

"Drink, " Trigger said coldly. She took the glass. "How long will it putme out?"

"Eight to nine hours. " Mihul stood by watchfully while Trigger emptiedthe tumbler. After a moment the tumbler fell to the floor. She reachedout and caught Trigger as she started down. 

"All right, " she said across her shoulder to the open doorway behindher. "Let's move!"

 * * * * *

Trigger awoke and instantly went taut with tension. She lay quiet a fewseconds, not even opening her eyes. There was cool sunlight on hereyelids, but she was indoors. There was a subdued murmur of soundsomewhere; after a moment she knew it came from a news viewer turnedlow, in some adjoining room. But there didn't seem to be anybodyimmediately around her. Warily she opened her eyes. 

She was on a couch in an airy, spacious room furnished in the palest ofgreens and ivory. One entire side of the room was either a window or asolido screen. In it was a distant mountain range with many snowy peaks, an almost cloudless blue sky. Sun at midmorning or midafternoon. 

Sun and all had the look of Maccadon--they probably still were on theplanet. That was where the interview was to take place. But she alsocould have been sent on a three-day space cruise, which would be arather good way to make sure a prisoner stayed exactly where you wantedher. This could be a spaceliner suite with a packaged view of any one ofsome hundreds of worlds, and with packaged sunlight thrown in. 

There was one door to the room. It stood open, and the news viewer talkcame from there. 

Trigger sat up quietly and looked down at the clothes she wore. Allwhite. A short-sleeved half-blouse of some soft, rather heavy, verycomfortable unfamiliar stuff. Bare midriff. White kid trousers whichflared at the thighs and were drawn in to a close fit just above theknees and down the calves, vanishing into kid boots with thick, flexiblesoles. 

Sporting outfit.... That meant Maccadon!

She pulled a handful of hair forward and looked at it. They'd recoloredit--this time to a warm mahogany brown. She swung her legs off the couchand stood up quietly. A dozen soft steps across the springy thick-nappedturf of ivory carpet took her to the window. 

The news viewer clicked and went silent. 

"Not bad, " Trigger said. She saw a long range of woodlands and openheath, rising gradually into the flanks of the mountains. On the farright was the still, silver glitter of two lakes. "Where are we?"

"Byla Uplands Game Preserve. That's the game bird area before you. "Mihul appeared in the doorframe, in an outfit almost a duplicate ofTrigger's, in pearl-gray tones. "Feel all right?"

"Feeling fine, " Trigger said. Byla Uplands--the southern tip of thecontinent. She could make it back to Ceyce in two hours or less! Sheturned and grinned at Mihul. "I also feel hungry. How long was I out?"

Mihul glanced at her wrist watch. "Eight hours, ten minutes. You woke upon schedule. I had breakfast sent up thirty minutes ago. I've alreadyeaten mine--took one sniff and plunged in. It's good!" Mihul's hair, Trigger saw, had been cropped short and a streak of gray added over theright side; and they'd changed the color of her eyes to hazel. Shewondered what had been done to her along that line. "Want to come in?"Mihul said. "We can talk while you eat. "

Trigger nodded. "After I've freshened up. "

The bathroom mirror showed they'd left her eyes alone. But there was avery puzzling impression that she was staring at an image considerablyplumper, shorter, younger than it should be--a teen-ager aroundseventeen or eighteen. Her eyes narrowed. If they'd done flesh-sculptingon her, it could cause complications. 

She stripped hurriedly and checked. They hadn't tampered with her body. So it had to be the clothes; though it was difficult to see how even themost cunning cut could provide such a very convincing illusion of beingmore rounded out, heavier around the thighs, larger breasts--justmissing being dumpy, in fact. She dressed again, looked again, and cameout of the bathroom, still puzzled. 

"Choice of three game birds for breakfast. " Mihul announced. "Neverheard of any of them. All good. Plus regular stuff. " She patted her flatmidriff. "Ate too much!" she admitted. "Now dig in and I'll brief you. "

Trigger dug in. "I had a look at myself in the mirror, " she remarked. "What's this now-you-see-it-now-you-don't business of fifteen or sopounds of baby fat?"

Mihul laughed. "You don't really have it. "

"I know that too. How do they do it?"

"Subcolor job in the clothes. They're not really white. Anyone lookingat you gets his vision distorted a little without realizing it. Takes awider view of certain areas, for example. You can play it around in alot of ways. "

"I never heard of that one, " Trigger said. "You'd think it would besensational in fashions. "

"It would be. Right now it's top secret for as long as Intelligence cankeep it that way. "

Trigger chewed a savory morsel of something. "Then why did you tell me?"

"You're one of the gang, however reluctant. And you're good at keepingthe mouth shut. Your name, by the way, is now Comteen Lod, just turnedeighteen. I am your dear mama. You call me Drura. We're fromSlyth-Talgon on Evalee, here for a few days shooting. "

Trigger nodded. "Do we do any shooting?"

Mihul pointed a finger at a side table. The Denton lay there, lookinglike a toy beside a standard slender-barrelled sporting pistol. "Betyour life, Comteen!" she said. "I've always been too stingy to try out afirst-class preserve on my own money. And this one is _first_ class. "She paused. "Comteen and Drura Lod really exist. We're a very fair copyof what they look like, and they'll be kept out of sight till we're donehere. Now--"

She leaned back comfortably, tilting the chair and clasping her handsaround one knee. "Aside from the sport, we're here because you're aconvalescent. You're recovering from a rather severe attack of DykartFever. Heard of it?"

Trigger reflected. "Something you pick up in some sections of the Evaleetropics, isn't it?"

Mihul nodded. "That's what you did, child! Skipped your shots on thelast trip we took--and six months later you're still paying for it. Youwere in one of those typical Dykart fever comas when we brought you inlast night. "

"Very clever!" Trigger commented acidly. 

"Very. " Mihul pursed her lips. "The Dykart bug causes temporaryderangements, you know--spells during which convalescents talk wildly, imagine things. "

Trigger popped another fragment of meat between her teeth and chewedthoughtfully, looking over at Mihul. "Very good duck or whatever!" shesaid. "Like imagining they've been more or less kidnapped, you mean?"

"Things like that, " Mihul agreed. 

Trigger shook her head. "I wouldn't anyway. You types are bound to haveall the legal angles covered. "

"Sure, " said Mihul. "Just thought I'd mention it. Have you used theDenton much on game?"

"Not too often. " Trigger had been wondering whether they'd left thestunner compartment loaded. "But it's a very fair gun for it. "

"I know. The other one's a Yool. Good game gun, too. You'll use that. "

Trigger swallowed. She met the calm eyes watching her. "I've neverhandled a Yool. Why the switch?"

"They're easy to handle. The reason for the switch is that you can'tjust stun someone with a Yool. It's better if we both stay armed, thoughit isn't really necessary--so much money comes to play around here theycan afford to keep the Uplands very thoroughly policed, and they do. Butan ace in the hole never hurts. " She considered. "Changed your mindabout that parole business yet?"

"I hadn't really thought about it, " Trigger said. 

"I'd let you carry your own gun then. "

Trigger looked reflective, then shook her head. "I'd rather not. "

"Suit yourself, " Mihul said agreeably. "In that case though, thereshould be something else understood. "

"What's that?"

"We'll have up to three-four days to spend here together before Whatzzitshows up. "

"Whatzzit?"

"For future reference, " Mihul said, "Whatzzit will be that which--or heor she who--wishes to have that interview with you and has arranged forit. That's in case you want to talk about it. I might as well tell youthat I'll do very little talking about Whatzzit. "

"I thought, " Trigger suggested, "I was one of the gang. "

"I've got special instructions on the matter, " Mihul said. "Anyway, Whatzzit shows up. You have your interview. After that we do whateverWhatzzit says we're to do. As you know. "

Trigger nodded. 

"Meanwhile, " said Mihul, "we're here. Very pleasant place to spendthree-four days in my opinion, and I think, in yours. "

"Very pleasant, " Trigger agreed. "I've been suspecting it was you whosuggested it would be a good place to wait in. "

"No, " Mihul said. "Though I might have, if anyone had asked me. ButWhatzzit's handling all the arrangements, it seems. Now we could havefun here--which, I suspect, would be the purpose as far as you'reconcerned. "

"Fun?" Trigger said. 

"To put you into a good frame of mind for that interview, might be theidea, " Mihul said. "I don't know. Three days here should relax almostanyone. Get in a little shooting. Loaf around the pools. Go for rides. Things like that. The only trouble is I'm afraid you're nourishing darknotions which are likely to take all the enjoyment out of it. Not tomention the possibility of really relaxing. "

"Like what?" Trigger asked. 

"Oh, " Mihul said, "there're all sorts of possibilities, of course. " Shenodded her head at the guns. "Like yanking the Denton out of my holsterand feeding me a dose of the stunner. Or picking up that coffee potthere and tapping me on the skull with it. It's about the right weight. "

Trigger said thoughtfully, "I don't think either of those would work. "

"They might, " Mihul said. "They just might! You're fast. You've beentaught to improvise. And there's something eating you. You're edgy as acat. "

"So?" Trigger said. 

"So, " Mihul said, "there are a number of alternatives. I'll lay them outfor you. You take your pick. For one, I could just keep you doped. Threedays in dope won't hurt you, and you'll certainly be no problem then. Another way--I'll let you stay awake, but we stay in our rooms. I canlock you in at night, and that window is escape-proof. I checked. Itwould be sort of boring, but we can have tapes and stuff brought up. I'dhave the guns put away and I'd watch you like a hawk every minute of theday. "

She looked at Trigger inquiringly. "Like either of those?"

"Not much, " Trigger said. 

"They're safe, " Mihul said. "Quite safe. Maybe I should.... Well, theheat's off, and it's just a matter now of holding you for Whatzzit. There're a couple of other choices. One of them has an angle you won'tlike much either. On the other hand, it would give you a sporting chanceto take off if you're really wild about it. And it's entirely in linewith my instructions. I warned them you're tricky. "

Trigger stopped eating. "Let's hear that one. "

Mihul tilted the chair back a little farther and studied her a moment. "Pretty much like I said before. Everything friendly and casual. Gun abit, swim a bit. Go for a ride or soar. Lie around in the sun. Butbecause of those notions of yours, there'd be one thing added. Anun-incentive. "

"An un-incentive?" Trigger repeated. 

"Exactly, " said Mihul. "_That_ isn't at all in line with myinstructions. But you're a pretty dignified little character, and Ithink it should work. "

"Just what does this un-incentive consist of?" Trigger inquired warily. 

"If you make a break and get away, " Mihul said, "that's one thing. Something's eating you, and I'm not sure I like the way this matter'sbeen handled. In fact, I don't like it. So I'll try to stop you fromleaving, but if it turns out I couldn't, I won't hold any grudges. Evenif I wake up with lumps. "

She paused. "On the other hand, " she said, "there we are--together forthree-four days. I don't want to spend them fighting off attempts toclobber me every thirty seconds. So any time you try and miss, Comteen, mama is going to pin you down fast, and hot up your seat with whateveris handiest. "

Trigger stared at her. 

She cleared her throat. 

"While I'm carrying a gun?" she said shakily. "Don't be ridiculous, Mihul!"

"You're not going to gun me for keeps to get out of a licking, " Mihulsaid. "And that's all the Yool can do. How else will you stop me?"

Trigger's fingernails drummed the table top briefly. She wet her lips. "I don't know, " she admitted. 

"Of course, " said Mihul, "all this unpleasantness can be avoided veryeasily. There's always the fourth method. "

"What's that?"

"Just give parole. "

"No parole, " Trigger said thinly. 

"All right. Which of the other ways will it be?"

Trigger didn't hesitate. "The sporting chance, " she said. "The othersaren't choices. "

"Fair enough, " said Mihul. She stood up and went over to the wall. Sheselected a holster belt from the pair hanging there and fastened itaround her. "I rather thought you'd pick it, " she said. She gave Triggera brief grin. "Just make sure it's a good opening!"

"I will, " Trigger said. 

Mihul moved to the side table, took up the Denton, looked at it, andslid it into her holster. She turned to gaze out the window. "Nicecountry!" she said. "If you're done with breakfast, how about going outright now for a first try at the birds?"

Trigger hefted the coffee pot gently. It was about the right weight atthat. But the range was a little more than she liked, considering theun-incentive. 

Besides, it might crack the monster's skull. 

She set the pot gently down again. 

"Great idea!" she said. "And I'm all finished eating. "

10

Half an hour later there still hadn't been any decent openings. Triggerwas maintaining a somewhat brooding silence at the moment. Mihul, besideher, in the driver's seat of the tiny sports hopper, chatted pleasantlyabout this and that. But she didn't appear to expect any answers. 

There weren't many half-hours left to be wasted. 

Trigger stared thoughtfully out through the telescopic ground-view platebefore her, while the hopper soared at a thousand feet toward thetwo-mile square of preserve area which had been assigned to them to huntover that morning. Dimly reflected in the view plate, she could see thehead of the gun-pup who went with that particular area lifted above theseat-back behind her. He was gazing straight ahead between the twohumans, absorbed in canine reflections. 

There was plenty of bird life down there. Some were original Terranforms, maintained unchanged in the U-League's genetic banks. Probablymany more were inspired modifications produced on Grand Commerce gameranches. At any other time, Trigger would have found herself enjoyingthe outing almost as much as Mihul. 

Not now. Other things kept running through her head. Money, for example. They hadn't returned her own cash to her and apparently didn't intendto--at least not until after the interview. But Mihul was carrying atleast part of their spending money in a hip pocket wallet. The rest ofit might be in a concealed room safe or deposited with the resorthotel's cashier. 

She glanced over at Mihul again. Good friend Mihul never before hadlooked quite so large, lithe, alert and generally fit for arough-and-tumble. That un-incentive idea was fiendishly ingenious! Itwas difficult to plan things through clearly and calmly while one'sself-esteem kept quailing at vivid visualizations of the results ofmaking a mistake. 

The hopper settled down near the center of their territory, guided thelast half mile by Mihul who had fancied the looks of someshrub-cluttered ravines ahead. Trigger opened the door on her side. Thegun-pup leaped lightly across the seat and came out behind her. Heturned to look over his huntresses and gave them a wag, a polite butperfunctory one. Then he stood waiting for orders. 

Mihul considered him. "Guess he's in charge here, " she said. She waveda hand at the pup. "Go find 'em, old boy! We'll string along. "

He loped off swiftly, a lean brown houndlike creature, a Grand Commercedevelopment of some aristocratic Terran breed and probably aconsiderable improvement on the best of his progenitors. He curvedaround a thick clump of shrubs like a low-flying hawk. Two plumpfeather-shapes, emerald-green and crimson, whirred up out of the nearside of the shrubbery, saw the humans before them and rose steeply, picking up speed. 

A great many separate, clearly detailed things seemed to be going onwithin the next four or five seconds. Mihul swore, scooping the Dentonout of its holster. Trigger already had the Yool out, but the gun wasunfamiliar; she hesitated. Fascinated, she glanced from the speeding, soaring feather-balls to Mihul, watched the tall woman straighten for anoverhead shot, left hand grasping right wrist to steady the lightweightDenton--and in that particular instant Trigger knew exactly what wasgoing to happen next. 

The Denton flicked forth one bolt. Mihul stretched a little more for thenext shot. Trigger wheeled matter-of-factly, dropping the Yool, leftelbow close in to her side. Her left fist rammed solidly into Mihul'sbare brown midriff, just under the arch of the rib cage. 

That punch, in those precise circumstances, would have paralyzed theaverage person. It didn't quite paralyze Mihul. She dropped forward, doubled up and struggling for breath, but already twisting aroundtoward Trigger. Trigger stepped across her, picked up the Denton, shifted its setting, thumbed it to twelve-hour stunner max, and letMihul have it between the shoulder blades. 

Mihul jerked forward and went limp. 

Trigger stood there, shaking violently, looking down at Mihul andfighting the irrational conviction that she had just committedcold-blooded murder. 

The gun-pup trotted up with the one downed bird. He placed it reverentlyby Mihul's outflung hand. Then he sat back on his haunches and regardedTrigger with something of the detached compassion of a good undertaker. 

Apparently this wasn't his first experience with a hunting casualty. 

The story Trigger babbled into the hopper's communicator a minute laterwas that Drura Lod had succumbed to an attack of Dykart fever coma--andthat an ambulance and a fast flit to a hospital in the nearest city wereindicated. 

The preserve hotel was startled but reassuring. That the mother shouldbe afflicted with the same ailment as the daughter was news to them butplausible enough. Within eight minutes, a police ambulance was flyingMihul and Trigger at emergency speeds towards a small Uplands Citybehind the mountains. 

Trigger never found out the city's name. Three minutes after she'dfollowed Mihul's floating stretcher into the hospital, she quietly leftthe building again by a street entrance. Mihul's wallet had containedtwo hundred and thirteen crowns. It was enough, barely. 

She got a complete change of clothes in the first Automatic Servicestore she came to and left the store in them, carrying the sportingoutfit in a bag. The aircab she hired to take her to Ceyce had to bepaid for in advance, which left her eighty-two crowns. As they wentflying over a lake a while later, the bag with the sporting clothes andaccessories was dumped out of the cab's rear window. It was justpossible that the Space Scouts had been able to put that tracer materialidea to immediate use. 

In Ceyce a short two hours after she'd felled Mihul, Trigger called theinterstellar spaceport and learned that the Dawn City was open topassengers and their guests. 

Birna Drellgannoth picked up her tickets and went on board, minglingunostentatiously with a group in a mood of festive leave-taking. Shewent fading even more unostentatiously down a hallway when the groupstopped cheerfully to pose for a solidopic girl from one of the newsagencies. She located her cabin after a lengthy search, set the door todon't-disturb, glanced around the cabin and decided to inspect it inmore detail later. 

She pulled off her slippers, climbed on the outsized divan which passedhere for a bunk, and stretched out. 

She lay there a while, blinking at the ceiling and worrying a littleabout Mihul. Even theoretically a stunner-max blast couldn't cause Mihulthe slightest permanent damage. It might, however, leave her in afairly peevish mood after the grogginess wore off, since the impactwasn't supposed to be pleasant. But Mihul had stated she would hold nogrudges over a successful escape attempt; and even if they caught upwith her again before she got to Manon, this attempt certainly had to berated a technical success. 

They might catch up, of course, Trigger thought. The Federation musthave an enormous variety of means at its disposal when it set outseriously to locate one of its missing citizens. But the Dawn City wouldbe some hours on its way before Mihul even began to think coherentlyagain. She'd spread the alarm then, but it should be a while before theystarted to suspect Trigger had left the planet. Maccadon was her homeworld, after all. If she'd just wanted to hole up, that was where shewould have had the best chance to do it successfully. 

Evalee, the first Hub stop, was only nine hours' flight away; Garth layless than five hours beyond Evalee. After that there was only the longsubspace run to Manon.... 

They'd have to work very fast to keep her from leaving the Hub thistime!

Trigger glanced over at the Denton lying by the bedside ComWeb on alittle table at the head of the divan-thing. She was aware of a feelingof great contentment, of growing relaxation. She closed her eyes. 

By and large, she thought--all things considered--she hadn't come offbadly among the cloak and dagger experts! She was on her way to Manon. 

Some hours later she slept through the Dawn City's thunderous takeoff. 

When she woke up next she was in semidarkness. But she knew where shewas and a familiar feeling of low-weight told her the ship was inflight. She sat up. 

At her motion, the area about her brightened, and the cabin grew visibleagain. It was rather large, oval-shaped. There were three closed doorsin the walls, and the walls themselves were light amber, of oddlyinsubstantial appearance. A rosy tinge was flowing up from the floorlevel through them, and as the color surged higher and deepened, therecame an accompanying stir of far-off, barely audible music. Thedon't-disturb sign still reflected dimly from the interior panels of thepassage door. Trigger found its control switch on the bedstand and shutit off. 

At once a soft chiming sounded from the miniature ComWeb on thebedstand. Its screen filled with a pulsing glow, and there was a voice. 

"This is a recording, Miss Drellgannoth, " the voice told her. "If RoomService may intrude with an audio message, please be so good as to touchthe blue circle at the base of your ComWeb. "

Trigger touched the blue circle. "Go ahead, " she invited. 

"Thank you, Miss Drellgannoth, " said the voice. "For the duration of thevoyage your personal ComWeb will be opened to callers, for either audioor visual intrusion, only by your verbal permission or by your touch onthe blue circle. "

It stopped. Another voice picked up. "This is your Personal RoomStewardess, Miss Drellgannoth. Forgive the intrusion, but the ship willdive in one hour. Do you wish to have a rest cubicle prepared?"

"No, thanks, " Trigger said. "I'll stay awake. "

"Thank you, Miss Drellgannoth. As a formality and in accordance withFederation regulations, allow me to remind you that Federation Law doesnot permit the bearing of personal weapons by passengers during a dive. "

Her glance went to the Denton. "All right, " she said. "I won't. It'sbecause of dive hallucinations, I suppose?"

"Thank you very much, Miss Drellgannoth. Yes, it is because of themisapprehensions which may be caused by dive hallucinations. May I be ofservice to you at this time? Perhaps you would like me to demonstratethe various interesting uses of your personal ComWeb Cabinet?"

Trigger's eyes shifted to the far end of the cabin. A rather large, veryelegant piece of furniture stood there. Its function hadn't beenimmediately obvious, but she had heard of ComWeb Service Cabinets. 

She thanked the stewardess but declined the offer. The lady switchedoff, apparently a trifle distressed at not having discovered anythingBirna Drellgannoth's personal stewardess might do for Birna right now. 

Trigger went curiously over to the cabinet. It opened at her touch andshe sat down before it, glancing over its panels. A remarkable numberof uses were indicated, which might make it confusing to the average Hubcitizen. But she had been trained in communications, and the servicecabinet was as simple as any gadget in its class could get. 

She punched in the ship's location diagram. The Dawn City was slightlymore than an hour out of Ceyce Port, but it hadn't yet cleared thesubspace nets which created interlocking and impenetrable fields ofenergy about the Maccadon System. A ship couldn't dive in such an areawithout risking immediate destruction; but the nets were painstakinglymaintained insurance against a day when subspace warfare might againexplode through the Hub. 

Trigger glanced over the diagrammed route ahead. Evalee.... Garth. Atiny green spark in the far remoteness of space beyond them representedManon's sun. 

Eleven days or so. With the money to afford a rest cubicle, the timecould be cut to a subjective three or four hours. 

But it would have been foolish anyway to sleep through the one trip on aHub luxury liner she was ever likely to take in her life. 

She set the cabinet to a review of the Dawn City's passenger facilities, and was informed that everything would remain at the disposal of wakingpassengers throughout all dives. She glanced over bars, fashion shows, dining and gaming rooms. The Cascade Plunge, from the looks of it, wouldhave been something for Mihul.... "Our Large Staff of Traveler'sCompanions"--just what she needed. The Solido Auditorium "... And theInferno--our Sensations Unlimited Hall. " A dulcet voice informed herregretfully that Federation Law did not permit the transmission of fullSU effects to individual cabins. It did, however, permit a few sampleglimpses. Trigger took her glimpses, sniffed austerely, switched back tothe fashions. 

There had been a neat little black suit on display there. While shedidn't intend to start roaming about the ship until it dived and themajority of her fellow travelers were immersed in their rest cubicles, she probably still would be somewhat conspicuous in her Automatic Salesdress on a boat like the Dawn City. That little black suit hadn't lookedat all expensive--

"Twelve hundred forty-two Federation credits?" she repeated evenly aminute later. "I see!"

Came to roughly eight hundred fifty Maccadon crowns, was what she saw. 

"May we model it in your suite, madam?" the store manager inquired. 

"No, thanks, " Trigger told her. "Just looking them over a bit. " Sheswitched off, frowned absently at a panel labeled "Your Selection ofPersonalized Illusion Arrangements, " shook her head, snapped the cabinetshut and stood up. It looked like she had a choice between beingconspicuous and staying in her cabin and playing around with things likethe creation of illusion scenes. 

And she was really a little old for that kind of entertainment. 

She opened the door to the narrow passageway outside the cabin andglanced tentatively along it. It was very quiet here. One of the reasonsthis was the cheapest cabin they'd had available presumably was that itlay outside the main passenger areas. To the right the corridor openedon a larger hall which ran past a few hundred yards of storerooms beforeit came to a stairway. At the head of the stairway, one came outeventually on one of the passenger levels. To the left the corridorended at the door of what seemed to be the only other cabin in thissection. 

Trigger looked back toward the other cabin. 

"Oh, " she said. "Well ... Hello. "

The other cabin door stood open. A rather odd-looking little person satin a low armchair immediately inside it. She had lifted a thin, green-sleeved arm in a greeting or beckoning gesture as Trigger turned. 

She repeated the gesture now. "Come here, girl!" she called amiably in aquavery old-woman voice. 

Well, it couldn't do any harm. Trigger put on her polite smile andwalked down the hall toward the open door. A quite tiny old woman itwas, with a head either shaved or naturally bald, dressed in a kind ofdark-green pajamas. Long glassy earrings of the same color pulled downthe lobes of her small ears. The oddness of the face was due mainly tothe fact that she wore a great deal of make-up, and that the make-up wasa matching green. 

She twisted her head to the left as Trigger came up, and chirpedsomething. Another woman appeared behind the door, almost a duplicate ofthe first, except that this one had gone all out for pink. Tiny things. They both beamed up at her. 

Trigger beamed back. She stopped just outside the door. 

"Greetings, " said the pink one. 

"Greetings, " Trigger replied, wondering what world they came from. Thestyle wasn't exactly like anything she'd seen before. 

"We, " the green lady informed her with a not unkindly touch ofcondescension, "are with the Askab of Elfkund. "

"Oh!" said Trigger in the tone of one who is impressed. Elfkund hadn'trung any bells. 

"And with whom are you, girl?" the pink one inquired. 

"Well, " Trigger said, "I'm not actually _with_ anybody. "

The smiles faded abruptly. They glanced at each other, then looked backat Trigger. Rather severely, it seemed. 

"Did you mean, " the green one asked carefully, "that you are _not_ aretainer?"

Trigger nodded. "I'm from Maccadon, " she explained. "The name is BirnaDrellgannoth. "

"Maccadon, " the pink one repeated. "You are a commoner then, youngBirna?"

"Of course she is!" The green one looked offended. "Maccadon!" She gotout of her chair with remarkable spryness and moved to the door. "It'squite drafty, " she said, looking pointedly past Trigger. The door closedon Trigger's face. A second later, she heard the lock snap shut. Amoment after that, the don't-disturb sign appeared. 

Well, she thought, wandering back to her cabin, it didn't look as if shewere going to be bothered with excessively friendly neighbors on thistrip. 

She had a bath and then discovered a mechanical stylist in a recessbeside the bathroom mirror. She swung the gadget out into the room, setit for a dye removal operation and sat down beneath it. A redhead againa minute or so later, she switched the machine to Orado styles and leftit to make up its electronic mind as to what would be the most suitablecreation under the circumstances. 

The stylist hovered above her for over a minute, muttering and cluckingas it conducted an apparently disapproving survey of the job. Then itwent swiftly and silently to work. When it shut itself off, Triggerchecked the results in the mirror. 

She wasn't too pleased. An upswept arrangement which brought out thebone structure of her face rather well but didn't do much else for her. Possibly the stylist had included the Automatic Sales dress in itscomputations. 

Well, it would have to do for her first tour of the ship. 

11

The bedside ComWeb warned her politely that it was now ten minutes todive point. Waking passengers who experienced subspace distress in anyform could obtain immediate assistance by a call on any ComWeb. If theypreferred, they could have their cabins kept under the continuous visualsupervision of their personal steward or stewardess. 

The Dawn City's passenger areas still looked rather well populated whenTrigger arrived. But some of the passengers were showing signs ofregretting their decision to stay awake. Presently she became aware of afaint queasiness herself. 

It wasn't bad--mainly a sensation as if the ship were tryingcontinuously to turn over on its axis around her and not quite makingit--and she knew from previous experience that after the first hour orso she would be completely free of that. She walked into a low, dimlylit, very swank-looking gambling room, still well patronized by thehardier section of her fellow travelers, searching for a place where shecould sit down unobtrusively for a while and let the subspace reactionwork itself out. 

A couch beside a closed door near the unlit end of the room seemed aboutright for the purpose. 

Trigger sat down and glanced around. There were a variety of games inprogress, all unfamiliar to her. The players were mostly men, but aremarkable number of beautiful women, beautifully gowned, stood aroundthe tables as observers. Traveler's Companions, Trigger realizedsuddenly--the Dawn City's employees naturally would be inured tosubspace effects. From the scraps of talk she could pick up, the stakesseemed uniformly high. 

A swirl of vertigo suddenly built up in her again. This one was strongerthan most; for a moment she couldn't be sure whether she was going to besick or not. She stood up, stepped over to the door a few feet away, pulled it open and went through, drawing it shut behind her. 

There had been a shielding black-light screen in the doorway. On theother side was bottled sunshine. 

She found herself on a long balcony which overlooked a formal gardenenclosure thirty feet below. There was no one else in sight. She leanedback against the wall beside the door, closed her eyes and breathedslowly and deeply for some seconds. The sickish sensation began tofade. 

When she opened her eyes again, she saw the little yellow man. 

He stood motionless at the far end of the garden, next to some floweringshrubbery out of which he might have just stepped. He seemed to bepeering along the sand path which curved in toward the balcony andvanished beneath it, below the point where Trigger stood. 

It was sheer fright which immobilized her at first. Because there wasnot anything really human about that small, squat, manshaped figure. Adwarfish yellow demon he seemed, evil and menacing. The garden, sherealized suddenly, might be an illusion scene. Or else--

The thing moved in that instant. It became a blur of motion along thecurving path and disappeared under the balcony. After a second or so sheheard the sound of a door closing some distance away. The garden laystill again. 

Trigger stayed where she was, her knees shaking a little. The frightappeared to have driven every trace of nausea out of her, and graduallyher heartbeat began to return to normal. She took three cautious stepsforward to the balcony railing, where the tip of a swaying green treebranch was in reach. 

She put her hand out hesitantly, felt the smooth vegetable texture of aleaf, grasped it, pulled it away. She moved back to the door andexamined the leaf. It was a quite real leaf. Thin sap formed a bead ofamber moisture at the break in the stalk as she looked at it. 

No illusion structure could be elaborated to that extent. 

So she'd just had her first dive hallucination--and it had been a dilly!

Trigger dropped the leaf, pushed shakily at the balcony door, andstepped back through the black-light screen into the reassuring murmurof human voices in the gambling room. 

An hour later, the ship's loudspeaker system went on. It announced thatthe Dawn City would surface in fifteen minutes because of graviticdisturbances, and proceed the rest of the way to Evalee in normal space, arriving approximately five hours behind schedule. Rest cubiclepassengers would not be disturbed, unless this was specificallyrequested by a qualified associate. 

Trigger turned her attention back to her viewer, feeling ratherrelieved. She hadn't experienced any further hallucinations, or otherindications of subspace distress; but the one she'd had would do her fora while. The little viewer library she was in was otherwise deserted, and she'd been going about her studies there just the least bitnervously. 

Subject of the studies were the Hub's principal games of chance. She'didentified a few of those she'd been watching--and one of them did lookas if someone who went at it with an intelligent understanding of theodds--

A part of Trigger kept tut-tutting and shaking its head at such recklessnotions. But another part pointed out that they couldn't be much worseoff financially than they were right now. So what if they arrived inManon dead-broke instead of practically? Besides, there was the problemof remaining inconspicuous till they got there. On the Dawn City no onewhose wardrobe was limited to one Automatic Sales dress was going toremain inconspicuous very long. 

Trigger-in-toto went on calculating the odds for various possible playcombinations. She developed her first betting system, presentlydiscovered several holes in it, and began to develop another. 

The loudspeaker system went on again. She was too absorbed to pay muchattention to it at first. Then she suddenly straightened up andlistened, frowning. 

The man speaking now was the liner's First Security Officer. He wasbeing very polite and regretful. Under Section such and such, Number soand so, of the Federation's Legal Code, a cabin by cabin search of thepassenger area of the Dawn City had become necessary. The persons ofpassengers would not be searched. Passengers might, if they wished, bepresent while their cabins were inspected; but this was not required. Baggage need not be opened, providing its spyproofing was not activated. Any information revealed by the search which did not pertain to aviolation of the Code Section and Number in question would not berecorded and could not be introduced as future legal evidence under anycircumstances. Complaints regarding the search could be addressed to anyPlanetary Moderator's office. 

This wasn't good at all! Trigger stood up. The absence of luggage in hercabin mightn't arouse more than passing interest in the searchers. Hergun was a different matter. Discreet inquiries regarding a femalepassenger who carried a double-barreled sporting Denton might be one ofthe check methods used by the Scout Intelligence boys if they startedthinking of liners which recently had left Maccadon in connection withTrigger's disappearance. There weren't likely to be more than two orthree guns of that type on board, and it was almost certain that shewould be the only woman who owned one. 

She'd better go get the Denton immediately ... And then vanish againinto the public sections of the ship! Some Security officer with a goodmemory and a habit of noticing faces might identify her otherwise fromthe news viewer pictures taken on Manon. 

And he just might start wondering then why she was traveling as BirnaDrellgannoth--and start to check. 

She paused long enough to get the Legal Code article referred to intothe viewer. 

Somebody on board appeared to have got himself murdered. 

She reached the cabin too late. A couple of young Security men alreadywere going over it. Trigger said hello pleasantly. It was too bad, butit wasn't their fault. They just had a job to do. 

They smiled back at her, apologized for the intrusion and went on withtheir business. She sat down and watched them. The Denton was there inplain sight. Dropping it into her purse now would be more likely to fixit in their memory than leaving it where it was. 

The gadgets they were using were in concealing casings, and she couldn'tguess what they were looking for by the way they used them. It didn'tseem that either of them was trying to haul up an identifying memoryabout her. They did look a little surprised when the second cabin closetwas opened and found to be as empty as the first; but no comments weremade about that. Two minutes after Trigger had come in, they werefinished and bowed themselves out of the cabin again. They turned thentoward the cabin occupied by the ancient retainers of the Askab ofElfkund. 

Trigger left her door open. This she wanted to hear, if she could. 

She heard. The Elfkund door also stayed open, while the racket beyond itgrew shriller by the moment. Finally a ComWeb chimed. A feminine voicespoke sternly. The Quavering outcries subsided. It looked as if Securityhad been obliged to call on someone higher up in the Elfkund entourageto come to its aid. Trigger closed her door grinning. 

On the screen of her secluded library, she presently watched a greatport shuttle swing in from Evalee to meet the hovering Dawn City. Itwould bring another five hundred or so passengers on board and take offthe few who had merely been making the short run from Maccadon to Evaleein style. Solidopic operators were quite likely to be on the shuttle, soshe had decided to keep away from the entry area. 

The transfer operation was carried out very expeditiously, probably tomake up for some of the time lost on the surface. When the shuttleshoved off, the loudspeaker announced that normal space flight would bemaintained till after the stopover at Garth. Trigger wanderedthoughtfully back to her cabin. She closed the door behind her. 

Then she saw the man sitting by the ComWeb cabinet. Her breath suckedin. She crouched a little, ready to wheel and bolt. 

"Take it easy, Trigger!" Major Quillan said. He was in civilian clothes, of rather dudish cut. 

Trigger swallowed. There was, too obviously, no place to bolt to. "Howdid you find me?"

He shrugged. "Longish story. You're not under arrest. "

"I'm not?"

"No, " said Quillan. "When we get to Manon, the Commissioner will have asuggestion to make to you. "

"Suggestion?" Trigger said warily. 

"I believe you're to take back your old Precol job in Manon, but ascover for your participation in our little project. If you agree to it. "

"What if I don't?"

He shrugged again. "It seems you'll be writing your own ticket from hereon out. "

Trigger stared at him, wondering. "Why?"

Quillan grinned. "New instructions have been handed down, " he said. "Ifyou're still curious, ask Whatzzit. "

"Oh, " Trigger said. "Then why are you here?"

"I, " said Quillan, "am to make damn sure you get to Manon. I brought afew people with me. "

"Mihul, too?" Trigger asked, a shade diffidently. 

"No. She's on Maccadon. "

"Is she--how's she doing?"

"Doing all right, " Quillan said. "She sends her regards and says alittle less heft on the next solar plexus you torpedo should be goodenough. "

Trigger flushed. "She isn't sore, is she?"

"Not the way you mean, " he considered. "Not many people have jumpedMihul successfully. In her cockeyed way, she seemed pretty proud of herstudent. "

Trigger felt the flush deepen. "I got her off her guard, " she said. 

"Obviously, " said Quillan. "In any ordinary argument she could pull yourlegs off and tie you up with them. Still, that wasn't bad. Have youtalked to anybody since you came on board?"

"Just the room stewardess. And a couple of old ladies in the nextcabin. "

"Yeah, " he said. "Couple of old ladies. What did you talk about?"

Trigger recounted the conversation. He reflected, nodded and stood up. 

"I put a couple of suitcases in that closet over there, " he said. "Yourpersonal stuff is in them, de-tracered. Another thing--somebody checkedover your finances and came to the conclusion you're broke. "

"Not exactly broke, " said Trigger. 

Quillan reached into a pocket, pulled out an envelope and laid it on thecabinet. "Here's a little extra spending money then, " he said. "Thebalance of your Precol pay to date. I had it picked up on Evalee thismorning. Seven hundred twenty-eight FC. "

"Thanks, " Trigger said. "I can use some of that. "

They stood looking at each other. 

"Any questions?" he asked. 

"Sure, " Trigger said. "But you wouldn't answer them. "

"Try me, doll, " said Quillan. "But let's shift operations to thefanciest cocktail lounge on this thing before you start. I feel likerelaxing a little. For just one girl, you've given us a fairly roughtime these last forty-eight hours!"

"I'm sorry, " Trigger said. 

"I'll bet, " said Quillan. 

Trigger glanced at the closet. If he'd brought everything along, therewas a dress in one of those suitcases that would have been a little toodaring for Maccadon. It should, therefore, be just about right for acocktail lounge on the Dawn City; and she hadn't had a chance to wear ityet. "Give me ten minutes to change. "

"Fine. " Quillan started toward the door. "By the way, I'm your neighbornow. "

"The cabin at the end of the hall?" she asked startled. 

"That's right. " He smiled at her. "I'll be back in ten minutes. "

Well, that was going to be cosy! Trigger found the dress, shook it outand slipped into it, enormously puzzled but also enormously relieved. That Whatzzit!

Freshening up her make-up, she wondered how he had induced the Elfkundladies to leave. Perhaps he'd managed to have a better cabin offered tothem. It must be convenient to have that kind of a pull. 

12

"Well, we didn't just leave it up to them, " Quillan said. "Ship'sEngineering spotted a radiation leak in their cabin. Slight butdefinite. They got bundled out in a squawking hurry. " He added, "Theydid get a better cabin though. "

"Might have been less trouble to get me to move, " Trigger remarked. 

"Might have been. I didn't know what mood you'd be in. "

Trigger decided to let that ride. This cocktail lounge was a verycurious place. By the looks of it, there were thirty or forty people intheir immediate vicinity; but if one looked again in a couple ofminutes, there might be an entirely different thirty or forty peoplearound. Sitting in easy chairs or at tables, standing about in smallgroups, talking, drinking, laughing, they drifted past slowly; overhead, below, sometimes tilted at odd angles--fading from sight and presentlyreturning. 

In actual fact she and Quillan were in a little room by themselves, andwith more than ordinary privacy via an audio block and a reconstructscrambler which Quillan had switched on at their entry. "I'll leave usout of the viewer circuit, " he remarked, "until you've finished yourquestions. "

"Viewer circuit?" she repeated. 

Quillan waved a hand around. "That, " he said. "There are more commercialand industrial spies, political agents, top-class confidence men andwhatnot on board this ship than you'd probably believe. A goodpercentage of them are pretty fair lip readers, and the things you wantto talk about are connected with the Federation's hottest currentsecret. So while it's a downright crime not to put you on immediatedisplay in a place like this, we won't take the chance. "

Trigger let that ride too. A group had materialized at an oblong tableeight feet away while Quillan was speaking. Everybody at the tableseemed fairly high, and two of the couples were embarrassingly amorous;but she couldn't quite picture any of them as somebody's spies oragents. She listened to the muted chatter. Some Hub dialect she didn'tknow. 

"None of those people can see or hear us then?" she asked. 

"Not until we want them to. Viewer gives you as much privacy as youlike. Most of the crowd here just doesn't see much point to privacy. Like those two. "

Trigger followed his glance. At a tilted angle above them, a matchedpair of black-haired, black-gowned young sirens sat at a small table, sipping their drinks, looking languidly around. 

"Twins, " Trigger said. 

"No, " said Quillan. "That's Blent and Company. "

"Oh?"

"Blent's a lady of leisure and somewhat excessively narcissistictendencies, " he explained. He gave the matched pair another brief study. "Perhaps one can't really blame her. One of them's her facsimile. Blent--whichever it is--is never without her face. "

"Oh, " Trigger said. She'd been studying the gowns. "That, " she said, atrifle enviously, "is why I'm not at all eager to go on display here. "

"Eh?" said Quillan. 

Trigger turned to regard herself in the wall mirror on the right, which, she had noticed, remained carefully unobscured by drifting viewers andviewees. A thoughtful touch on the lounge management's part. 

"Until we walked in here, " she explained, "I thought this was a prettysharp little outfit I'm wearing. "

"Hmmm, " Quillan said judiciously. He made a detailed appraisal of themirror image of the slim, green, backless, half-thigh-length sheathwhich had looked so breath-taking and seductive in a Ceyce displaywindow. Trigger's eyes narrowed a little. The major had appraised thedress in detail before. 

"It's about as sharp a little outfit as you could get for around ahundred and fifty credits, " he remarked. "Most of the items the girlsare sporting here are personality conceptions. That starts at around tento twenty times as high. I wasn't talking about displaying the dress. Now what were those questions?"

Trigger took a small sip of her drink, considering. She hadn't made upher mind about Major Quillan, but until she could evaluate him moredefinitely, it might be best to go by appearances. The appearances sofar indicated small sips in his company. 

"How did you people find me so quickly?" she asked. 

"Next time you want to sneak off a civilized planet, " Quillan advisedher, "pick something like a small freighter. Or hire a small-boat to getyou out of the system and flag down a freighter for you. Plenty of trampcaptains will make a space stop to pick up a paying passenger. Liners wecan check. "

"Sorry, " Trigger said meekly. "I'm still new at this business. "

"And thank God for that!" said Quillan. "If you have the time and themoney, it's also a good idea, of course, to zig a few times before youzag towards where you're really heading. Actually, I suppose, the creditfor picking you up so fast should go to those collating computers. "

"Oh?"

"Yes. " Major Quillan looked broodingly at his drink for a moment. "Therethey sit, " he remarked suddenly, "with their stupid plastic faceshanging out! Rows of them. You feed them something you don't understand. They don't understand it either. Nobody can tell me they can. But theykick it around and giggle a bit, and out comes some ungodly suggestion. "

"So they helped you find me?" she said cautiously. It was clear that themajor had strong feelings about computers. 

"Oh, sure, " he said. "It usually turns out it was a good idea to do whatthose CCs say. Anything unusual that shows up in the area you're workingon gets chunked into the things as a matter of course. We were on theliners. Dawn City reports back a couple of murders. 'Dawn City to thehead of the list!' cry the computers. Nobody asks why. They just plowinto the ticket purchase records. And right there are the little Argeethumbprints!"

He looked at Trigger. "My own bet, " he said, somewhat accusingly, "wasthat you were one of those that had just taken off. We didn't know aboutthat ticket reservation. "

"What I don't see, " Trigger said, changing the subject, "is why twomurders should seem so very unusual. There must be quite a few of them, after all. "

"True, " said Quillan. "But not murders that look like catassinkillings. "

"Oh!" she said startled. "Is that what these were?"

"That's what Ship Security thinks. "

Trigger frowned. "But what could be the connection--"

Quillan reached across the table and patted her hand. "You've got it!"he said with approval. "Exactly! No connection. Some day I'm going towalk down those rows and give them each a blast where it will do themost good. It will be worth being broken for. "

Trigger said, "I thought that catassin planet was being guarded. "

"It is. It would be very hard to sneak one out nowadays. But somebody'sbreeding them in the Hub. Just a few. Keeps the price up. "

Trigger grimaced uncomfortably. She'd seen recordings of those swift, clever, constitutionally murderous creatures in action. "You say itlooked like catassin killings. They haven't found it?"

"No. But they think they got rid of it. Emptied the air from most of theship after they surfaced and combed over the rest of it with lifedetectors. They've got a detector system set up now that would spot acatassin if it moved twenty feet in any direction. "

"Life detectors go haywire out of normal space, don't they?" she said. "That's why they surfaced then. "

Quillan nodded. "You're a well-informed doll. They're pretty certainit's been sucked into space or disposed of by its owner, but they'll goon looking till we dive beyond Garth. "

"Who got killed?"

"A Rest Warden and a Security officer. In the rest cubicle area. Itmight have been sent after somebody there. Apparently it ran into thetwo men and killed them on the spot. The officer got off one shot andthat set off the automatic alarms. So pussy cat couldn't finish the jobthat time. "

"It's all sort of gruesome, isn't it?" Trigger said. 

"Catassins are, " Quillan agreed. "That's a fact. "

Trigger took another sip. She set down her glass. "There's somethingelse, " she said reluctantly. 

"Yes?"

"When you said you'd come on board to see I got to Manon, I was thinkingnone of the people who'd been after me on Maccadon could know I was onthe Dawn City. They might though. Quite easily. "

"Oh?" said Quillan. 

"Yes. You see I made two calls to the ticket office. One from a streetComWeb and one from the bank. If they already had spotted me by thattracer material, they could have had an audio pick-up on me, I suppose. "

"I think we'd better suppose it, " said Quillan. "You had a tail when youcame out of the bank anyway. " His glance went past her. "We'll get backto that later. Right now, take a look at that entrance, will you?"

Trigger turned in the direction he'd indicated. 

"They do look like they're somebody important, " she said. "Do you knowthem?"

"Some of them. That gentleman who looks like he almost has to be theDawn City's First Captain really is the Dawn City's First Captain. Thelady he's escorting into the lounge is Lyad Ermetyne. The Ermetyne. You've heard of the Ermetynes?"

"The Ermetyne Wars? Tranest?" Trigger said doubtfully. 

"They're the ones. Lyad is the current head of the clan. "

The history of Hub systems other than one's own became so involved sorapidly that its detailed study was engaged in only by specialists. Trigger wasn't one. "Tranest is one of the restricted planets now, isn'tit?" she ventured. 

"It is. Restriction is supposed to be a handicap. But Tranest is alsoone of the wealthiest individual worlds in the Hub. "

Trigger watched the woman with some interest as the party moved along adim corridor, followed by the viewer circuit's invisible pick-up. LyadErmetyne didn't look more than a few years older than she was herself. Rather small, slender, with delicately pretty features. She woresomething ankle-length and long-sleeved in lusterless gray with an odd, smoky quality to it. 

"Isn't she the empress of Tranest or something of the sort?" Triggerasked. 

Quillan shook his head. "They've had no emperors there, technically, since they had to sign their treaty with the Federation. She just ownsthe planet, that's all. "

"What would she be doing, going to Manon?"

"I'd like to know, " Quillan said. "The Ermetyne's a lady of manyinterests. Now--see the plump elderly man just behind her?"

"The ugly one with the big head who sort of keeps blinking?"

"That one. He's Belchik Pluly and--"

"Pluly?" Trigger interrupted. "The Pluly Lines?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Oh--nothing really. I heard--a friend of mine--Pluly's got a yacht outin the Manon System. And a daughter. "

Quillan nodded. "Nelauk. "

"How did you know?"

"I've met her. Quite a girl, that Nelauk. Only child of Pluly's old age, and he dotes on her. Anyway, he's been on the verge of beingblack-listed by Grand Commerce off and on through the past threedecades. But nobody's ever been able to pin anything more culpable onhim than that he keeps skimming extremely close to the limits of a largenumber of laws. "

"He's very rich, I imagine?" Trigger said thoughtfully. 

"Very. He'd be much richer even if it weren't for his hobby. "

"What's that?"

"Harems. The Pluly harems rate among the most intriguing and besteducated in the Hub. "

Trigger looked at Pluly again. "Ugh!" she said faintly. 

Quillan laughed. "The Pluly salaries are correspondingly high. Viewer'sdropping the group now, so there's just one more I'd like you to notice. The tall girl with black hair, in orange. "

Trigger nodded. "Yes. I see her. She's beautiful. "

"So she is. She's also Space Scout Intelligence. Gaya. Comes fromFarnhart where they use the single name system. A noted horsewoman, verywealthy, socially established. Which is why we like to use her insituations like this. "

Trigger was silent a moment. Then she said, "What kind of situation isit? I mean, what's she doing with Lyad Ermetyne and the others?"

"She probably attached herself to the group as soon as she discoveredLyad had come on board. Which, " Quillan said, "is exactly what I wouldhave told Gaya to do if I'd spotted Lyad first. "

Trigger was silent a little longer this time. "Were you thinking thisLyad could be.... "

"One of our suspects? Well, " said Quillan judiciously, "let's say Lyadhas all the basic qualifications. Since she's come on board, we'd betterconsider her. When something's going on that looks more than usuallytricky, Lyad is always worth considering. And there's one point thatlooks even more interesting to me now than it did at first. "

"What's that?"

"Those two little old ladies I eased out of their rightful cabin. "

Trigger looked at him. "What about them?"

"This about them. The Askab of Elfkund is, you might way, one of thebranch managers of the Ermetyne interests in the Hub. He is also ahard-working heel in his own right. But he's not the right size to beone of the people we're thinking about. Lyad is. He might have beendoing a job for her. "

"Job?" she asked. She laughed. "Not with those odd little grannies?"

"We know the odd little grannies. They're the Askab's poisoners andpretty slick at it. They were sizing you up while you were having thatlittle chat, doll. Probably not for a coffin this time. You were justgetting the equivalent of a pretty thorough medical check-up. Presumably, though, for some sinister ultimate purpose. "

"How do you know?" Trigger asked, very uncomfortably. 

"One of those little suitcases in their cabin was a diagnostic recorder. It would have been standing fairly close to the door while you werethere. If they didn't take your recordings out before I got there, they're still inside. They're being watched and they know it. It seemedlike a good idea to keep the Askab feeling fairly nervous until we foundout whether those sweethearts of his had been parked next door to you onpurpose. "

"Apparently they were, " Trigger admitted. "Nice bunch of people!"

"Oh, they're not all bad. Lyad has her points. And old Belchik, forexample, isn't really a heel. He just had no ethics. Or morals. Andrevolting habits. Anyway, all this brings up the matter of what weshould do with you now. "

Trigger set her glass down on the table. 

"Refill?" Quillan inquired. He reached for the iced crystal pitcherbetween them. 

"No, " she said. "I just want to make a statement. "

"State away. " He refilled his own glass. 

"For some reason, " said Trigger, "I've been acting lately--the last twodays--in a remarkably stupid manner. "

Quillan choked. He set his glass down hastily, reached over and pattedher hand. "Doll, " he said, touched, "it's come to you! At last. "

She scowled at him. "I don't usually act that way. "

"That, " said Quillan, "was what had me so baffled. According to theCommissioner and others, you're as bright in the head as a diamond, usually. And frankly--"

"I know it, " Trigger said dangerously. "Don't rub it in!"

"I apologize, " said Quillan. He patted her other hand. 

"At any rate, " Trigger said, drawing her hands back, "now that I'verealized it, I'm going to make up for it. From here on out, I'llcooperate. "

"To the hilt?"

She nodded. "To the hilt! Whatever that is. "

"You can't imagine, " said Quillan, "how much that relieves me. " Hefilled her glass, giving her a relieved look. "I had definiteinstructions, of course, not to do anything like grabbing you by theback of the neck, flinging you into a rest cubicle and sitting on it, guns drawn, until we'd berthed in Precol Port. But I was tempted, I cantell you. "

He paused and thought. "You know, " he began again, "that really would bethe best. "

"No!" Trigger said indignantly. "When I said cooperate, I meantactively. Mihul said I'm considered one of the gang in this project. From now on I'll behave like one. And I'll also expect to be treatedlike one. "

"Hm, " said Quillan. "Well, there is something you can do, all right. "

"What's that?"

"Go on display here, now. "

"What for?" she asked. 

"As bait, you sweet ninny! If the boss grabber is on this ship, weshould draw a new nibble from him. " He appraised the green dress in themirror again. His expression grew absent. It might be best, Triggersuspected, a trifle uneasily, to keep Major Quillan's thoughts turnedaway from things like nibbling. 

"All right, " she said briskly. "Let's do that. But you'll have to briefme. "

13

She had felt somewhat self-conscious for the first two or three minutes. But it helped when she caught a glimpse of their own table drifting byamong the others and realized that the smiling red-headed viewer imageover there looked completely at her ease. 

It helped, too, that Major Quillan turned suddenly into thelight-but-ardent-conversation type of companion. In the short precedingbriefing he had pointed out that a bit of flirting, etc. , was anecessary, or at least nearly necessary, part of the act. Trigger wasgoing along with the flirting; he could be right about that. Sheintended to stay on the alert for the etc. 

They got nibbles very promptly. But not quite the right kind. 

The concealed table ComWeb murmured, "A caller requests to be connectedwith Major Quillan. Is it permitted?"

"Oho!" Quillan said poisonously. "I suspected we should have stayed offcircuit! Who's the caller?"

"The name given is Keth Deboll. "

Quillan laughed. "Give the little wolf Major Quillan's regards and tellhim it was a good try. I'll look him up tomorrow. "

He gave Trigger gentle wink. "Let 'em pant, " he said. "At a distance!"

She smiled uncertainly. If he had a mustache, she thought, he'd betwirling it. 

There were two more calls in the next few minutes, of similar nature. Quillan rebuffed them cheerfully. It was rather flattering in a way. Shewondered how so many people in the cocktail lounge happened to knowQuillan by name. 

When the ComWeb reported the fourth caller, it sounded awed. 

"The name given is the Lady Lyad Ermetyne!" it said. 

Quillan beamed. "Lyad? Bless her heart! A pleasure. Put her through. "

A screen shaped itself on the wall mirror to the right. Lyad Ermetyne'sface appeared in it. 

"Heslet Quillan!" She smiled. "So you aren't permanently lost to yourfriends, after all!" It was a light, liquid voice. It suited herappearance perfectly. 

"Only to the frivolous ones, " Quillan said. His thick black brows wentup. His face took on a dedicated look. "I'm headed for Manon on duty. "

She nodded. "Still with the Subspace Engineers?"

"And with the rank of major by now, " Quillan said. 

"Congratulations! But I'd already observed that your fabulous goodfortune hasn't deserted you in the least. " Lyad's glance switched toTrigger; she smiled again. It was a pleasant, easy smile that showedwhite teeth. "Would you shield your ComWeb, Quillan?"

"Shield it?" Quillan looked surprised. "Why, certainly!" He reachedunder the edge of the table. The drifting viewer images vanished. "Goahead. "

Lyad's eyes turned back to Trigger. They were off-color eyes, like amberor a light wine, fringed with long black lashes. Very steady, veryknowing eyes. Trigger felt herself tensing. 

"Forgive me the discourtesy of inquiring directly, " the light voicesaid. "But you are Trigger Argee, aren't you?"

Quillan's hand slapped the table. He looked at Trigger and laughed. "Better give up, Trigger! I told you you were much more widely knownthan you believed. "

 * * * * *

"Well, Brule, " Trigger muttered moodily to the solidopic propped uprightagainst the pillow before her, "you'd bug those pretty blue eyes out ifyou knew who's invited me to dinner!"

Brule smiled back winningly. She lay on her cabin's bed, chin on hercrossed arms, eyes a dozen inches from the pretty blue ones. Shestudied Brule's features soberly. 

"Major Heslet Quillan, " she announced suddenly in cold, even tones, "isa completely impossible character!"

It was no more than the truth. She didn't mind so much that Quillanwouldn't tell her what he thought of Lyad Ermetyne's standing on thesuspect list now--there hadn't really been much opportunity for openconversation so far. But he and that unpleasant Belchik Pluly hadengaged in some jovial back-slapping and rib-punching when he andTrigger went over to join Lyad's party at her request; and Quillan criedout merrily that he and Belchik had long had one great interest incommon--ha-ha-ha! Then those two great buddies vanished together for afull hour to take in some very special, not publicly programmedSensations Unlimited in the Dawn City's Inferno. 

Lyad had smiled after them as they left. "Aren't men disgusting?" shesaid tolerantly. 

That reflected on her, didn't it? She was supposed to be very goodfriends with somebody like that! Of course Quillan must have some bit ofIntelligence business in mind with Pluly, but there should be other waysof going about it. And later, when she'd been just a little stiff withhim, Quillan had had the nerve to tell her not to be a prude, doll!

Trigger shoved the solidopic under the pillow. Then she rolled on herside and blinked at the wall. 

Naturally, Major Quillan's personal habits were none of her business. Itwas just that in less than an hour he was to pick her up and take her tothe Ermetyne suite for that dinner. She was wondering how she shouldbehave towards him. 

Reasonably pleasant but cool, she decided. But again, not too cool, since she'd obligated herself to help him find out what the Tranesttycooness was after. Any obvious lack of friendliness between them mightmake the job more difficult. 

Trigger sighed. Things were getting complicated again. 

While Quillan was indulging his baser nature among the questionableattractions of the Inferno, she'd shot three hundred of her Precolcredits on a formal black gown ... On what, yesterday, she would haveconsidered a rather unbelievable gown. Even at an Ermetyne dinner shecouldn't actually look dowdy in it. And then, accompanied by Gaya, whohad turned out to be a very pleasant but not very communicativecompanion, she'd headed for a gambling room to make back the price ofthe gown. 

It hadn't worked out. The game she'd particularly studied up on turnedout to have a five hundred minimum play. Which finished that scheme. Thesystem she'd planned to use looked very sound, but she needed more thanone chance to try it in. She and Gaya sat down at another table, with adifferent game, where you could get in for fifty credits. In eightminutes Trigger lost a hundred and twenty and quit. 

Gaya won seventy-five. 

It had been an interesting day, but with some unsatisfactory aspects toit. 

She hauled the solidopic out from under the pillow again. 

"And you, " she told Brule warningly, "seem to be playing around withsome very bad company, my friend! Just luck I'm coming back to see youdon't get into serious trouble!"

 * * * * *

She'd showered and was studying the black gown's effect before themirror when the ComWeb chimed. 

"Permission for audio intrusion granted, " Trigger said casually withoutlooking around. She was getting used to this sort of thing. 

"Thank you, Miss Drellgannoth, " said the ComWeb. "A package from theBeldon Shop has been deposited in your mail transmitter. " It signed off. 

Beldon Shop? Trigger frowned, laid the gown across a chair and went overto the transmitter receptacle. She opened it. A flat small greenpackage, marked "The Styles of Beldon, " slid out. A delicate scent cametrailing along with it. A small white envelope clung to the package'stop. 

Inside the envelope was a card. It read:

"A peace offering. Would you wear it to dinner in token of forgiveness?Very humbly, Q. "

Trigger found herself smiling and wiped off the smile. Then she let itcome back. No point in staying grim with the character! She pulled thepackage tab and it opened up. There were three smaller packages inside. 

She opened the first of these and for a moment gazed doubtfully at fourobjects like green leaf buds, each the size of her thumb. She laid themdown and opened the second package. This one contained a pair of veryfancy high heels, green and pale gold. 

Out of the third flowed something which was, at all events, extraordinarily beautiful material of some kind. Velvety green ... Shimmeringly alive. Its touch was a caress. Its perfume was like softwhispers. Lifting one end with great care between thumb and finger, Trigger let it unfold itself to the floor. 

Tilting her head to the side, she studied the shimmering featherweightcat's cradle of jewel-green ribbons that hung there. 

Wear it?

What _was_ it?

She reflected, found her dressing gown in one of the suitcases, slippedit on, sat down before the ComWeb with the mysterious ribbonarrangement, and dialed Gaya's number. 

The Intelligence girl was in her cabin and obviously had been napping. But she was wide awake now. "Shielded here!" she said quickly as soon asher image cleared. "Go ahead!"

"It's nothing important, " Trigger said hastily. Gaya relaxed. "It'sjust--" she held up the ribbons. "Major Quillan sent me this. "

Gaya uttered a small squeal. "Oh! Beautiful! A Beldon!"

"That's what it says. "

Gaya smiled. "He must like you!"

"Oh?" said Trigger. She hesitated. Gaya's face grew questioning. Sheasked, "Is something the matter?"

"Probably not, " said Trigger. She considered. "If you laugh, " shewarned, "I'll hate you. " She indicated the ribbons again. "What is thatBeldon really?"

Gaya blinked. "You haven't been around our decadent circles longenough, " she said soberly. Then she did laugh. "Don't hate me, Trigger!Anyway, it's very high fashion. It's also"--her glance went quickly overTrigger--"in excellent taste, in this case. It's a Beldon gown. "

A gown!

Some of the beautiful ribbons were wider than others. None of themlooked as wide as they should have been. Not for a gown. 

Dubiously, Trigger wriggled and fitted herself into the high fashionitem. Even before she went over to the mirror in it, she knew itwouldn't do. Not possibly! Styles on many Hub worlds were rather bold ofcourse, but she was sure this effect wasn't what the Beldon's designershad intended. 

She stepped in front of the mirror. Her eyes widened. "Brother!" shebreathed. 

That Beldon did go with a woman like stripes went with a tiger! Afterone look, you couldn't quite understand why nature hadn't arranged forit first. But just as obviously there wasn't nearly enough Beldon aroundat the moment. 

Trigger checked the time and began to feel harried. Probably she'd windup wearing the black gown anyway, but at least she wanted to get thismatter worked out before she decided. She dialed for a drink, took twoswallows and reflected that she might have put the thing on backwards. Or upside down. 

Five minutes later, she sat at the dresser, tapping her fingers on itsglassy surface, gazing at the small pile of green ribbons before her andwhistling softly. There was a thoroughly bared look on her face. Suddenly she stood up and went back to the ComWeb. 

"Ribbons?" said the lady who was the Beldon Shop's manager. "That wouldbe 741. A delightful little creation!"

"Delightful, " said Trigger. "May I see it on the model?"

"Immediately, madam. "

A few moments later, a long-limbed model strolled into the view screen, displaying an exquisite arrangement of burnt sienna ribbons plus fourlargish leaf-like designs. Trigger glanced quickly back to the tablewhere she had put down the strange green buds. They had quietly openedout meanwhile. 

She thanked the manager, switched off the ComWeb, got into the Beldonagain and attached her leaf designs where the model had carried them. They adhered softly, molding themselves to her, neatly completing thecostume. 

She stepped into the high heels and looked in the mirror again. Shebreathed "Brother!" again. Maccadon wouldn't have approved. She wasn'tsure she approved either. 

But one thing was certain--there wasn't the remotest suggestion ofdowdiness about a Beldon. Objectively, impersonally considered, theeffect was terrific. 

Feeling tawny and feline, Trigger slowly lifted one shoulder and loweredit again. She turned and strolled toward the full-length mirror acrossthe cabin, admiring the shifts of the Beldon effect in the flow ofmotion. 

Terrific!

With another drink, she could do it. 

She dialed another drink and settled down with it beneath the mechanicalstylist for a readjustment in the hairdo department. This time thestylist purred as it surveyed and hummed while it worked. And when thehairdo was done and Trigger moved to get up, its flexible little toolpads pulled her back gently into the seat and tilted up her chin. For amoment she was startled. Then she saw that the stylist had produced ashining make-up kit and was opening it. This time she was getting theworks.... 

Twenty minutes later, Quillan's voice informed her via the ComWeb thathe could be outside her cabin any time she was ready. Trigger told himcheerily to come right over, picked up her purse and swaggered towardthe door, smiling a cool, feline smile. 

"Prude, eh?" she muttered. 

She opened the door. 

"Ya-arghk!" cried Quillan, shaken. 

14

They were out on a terrace near the top of an illusion mountainside, ina beautiful evening. Dinner had been old-style and delicious, served byits creators, two slim, brown-skinned, red-lipped girls who looked muchtoo young to have acquired such skills. They were natives of Tranest, Lyad said proudly, and two of the finest food technicians in the Hub. They were, at all events, the two finest food technicians Trigger hadrun into as yet. 

The brandy which followed the dinner seemed to represent no let-down tothe connoisseurs around Trigger. She went at it cautiously, though shehad swallowed a couple of wake-up capsules just before they walked intothe Ermetyne suite. The capsules took effect in the middle of the firstcourse; and what she woke up to was a disconcerting awareness of beingthe center of much careful attention. The boys were all givingher-plus-Beldon the eye, intensively; even Lyad's giant-sized butler ormajordomo or whatever she'd called him, named Virod, ogled coldly out ofthe background. Trigger gave them the eye back, one after the other, inturn; and that stopped it. Lyad, beautifully wearing something whichwould have passed muster at the U-League's Annual Presidential Dinner inCeyce, looked amused. 

It wasn't till the end of the second course that Trigger began to feelat ease again. After that she forgot, more or less, about the Beldon. The talk remained light during dinner. When they switched off theillusion background for a look at the goings-on during the Garthstopover, she took the occasion to study her companions in more detail. 

There were three men at the table; Lyad and herself. Quillan satopposite her. Belchik Pluly's unseemly person, in a black silk robewhich left his plump arms bare from the elbows down, was on Quillan'sright. 

The third man fascinated her. It was as if some strange cold creaturehad walked up out of a polar sea to come on board their ship. 

It wasn't so much his appearance, though the green tip of a Vethi spongelying coiled lightly about his neck probably had something to do withthe impression. Trigger knew about Vethi sponges and their addicts, though she hadn't seen either before. It wasn't so serious an addiction, except perhaps in the fact that it was rarely given up again. Thesponges soothed jangled nerves, stabilized unstable emotions. 

Balmordan didn't look like a man who needed one. He was big, not as tallas Quillan but probably heavier, with strong features, a boldly juttingnose. Bleak, pale eyes. He was about fifty and wore a richly ornamentedblue shirt and trousers. The shirt hung loose, perhaps to conceal theflattened contours of his odd companion's body. Lyad had introduced himas a Devagas scientist and in a manner which indicated he was a man ofconsiderable importance. That meant he was almost certainly a member ofthe Devagas hierarchy, which in itself would have made him veryinteresting. 

Trigger had run into some of the odd-ball missionaries the Devagas keptsending about the Hub; and she'd sometimes speculated curiouslyregarding the leaders of that chronically angry, unpredictable nationwhich, on its twenty-eight restricted worlds, formed more than sixpercent of the population of the Hub. The Devagas seemed to like nobody;and certainly nobody liked them. 

Balmordan didn't fit her picture of a Devagas leader too badly. Hismanner and talk were easygoing and agreeable. But his particular brandof ogle, when she first became aware of it, had been disquieting. Ratherlike a biologist planning the details of an interesting vivisection. 

Of course he _was_ a biologist. 

But Trigger kept wondering why Lyad had invited him to dinner. She waspositive, for one thing, that Belchik Pluly wasn't at all happy aboutBalmordan's presence. 

Dinner was over before the Garth take-off, and they switched themselvesback to the mountainside and took other chairs. A red-haired, green-eyed, tanned, sinuous young woman called Flam appeared from timeto time to renew brandy glasses and pass iced fruits around. She gaveTrigger coolly speculative looks now and then. 

Then Virod showed up again with a flat tray of what turned out to be avery special brand of tobacco. Trigger declined. The men madeconnoisseur-type sounds of high appreciation, and everybody, includingLyad, lit up small pipes of a very special brand of coral and puffedaway happily. Quillan looked up at Virod. 

"Hi, big boy!" he said pleasantly. "How's everything been with you?"

Virod, in a wide-sleeved scarlet jacket and creased black trousers, bowed his shaved bullet head very slightly. "Everything's been fine, Major Quillan, " he said. "Thank you. " He turned and went out of theplace. Trigger glanced after him. Virod awed her a little--he was reallyhuge. Moving about among them, he had seemed like a softly paddingelephant. And there was an elephant's steady deftness in the way he heldout the tiny tobacco trays. 

The Ermetyne winked at Quillan. "Quillan wrestled Virod to a pindownonce, " she said to Trigger. "A fifty-seven minute round, wasn't it?"

"Thereabouts, " Quillan said. He added, "Trigger doesn't know yet that Iwas a sports bum in my youth. "

"Really?" Trigger said. 

He nodded. "Come from a long line of sports bums, as a matter of fact. But I broke tradition--went into business for myself finally. NowadaysI'm old and soft. Eh, Belchy?" The two great pals, sitting side by side, dug elbows at each other and ha-ha-ha'd. Trigger winced. 

"Still in the same line of business, on the side?" Lyad inquired. 

Quillan looked steadily at her and grinned. "More or less, " he said. 

"We might, " Lyad said thoughtfully, "come back to that later. As forthat match with Virod, " she went on to Trigger, "it was really aterrific event! Virod was a Tranest arena professional before I took himinto my personal employ, and he's very, very rarely been beaten in anysuch contest. " She laughed. "And before such a large group of peopletoo! I'm afraid he's never quite forgiven you for that, Quillan. "

"I'll keep out of his way, " Quillan said easily. 

"Did you people know, " Lyad said, "that the trouble on the way betweenMaccadon and Evalee was caused by a catassin killing?" There was a touchof mischief in the question, Trigger thought. 

There were assorted startled responses. The Ermetyne went briefly oversome of the details Quillan had told; essentially it was the same story. "And do you know, Belchik, what the creature was trying to do? It wastrying to get into the rest cubicle vaults. Just think, it might havebeen sent after you!"

It was rather cruel. Pluly's head jerked, and he blinked rapidly atLyad, saying nothing. He was a badly scared little man at that moment. Trigger felt a little sorry for him, but not too sorry. Belchy's oglehad been of the straightforward, loose-lipped, drooling variety. 

"You're safe when you're in one of those things, Belchik!" Quillan saidreassuringly. "Wouldn't you feel a little safer there yourself, Lyad? Ifyou say they're not even sure they've killed the creature.... "

"I probably shall have a cubicle set up here, " Lyad said. "But not asprotection against a catassin. It would never get past Pilli, for onething. " She looked at Trigger. "Oh, I forgot. You haven't met Pilli. Virod!" she called. 

Virod appeared at the far end of the terrace. 

"Yes, First Lady?"

"Bring in Pilli, " she told him. 

Virod bowed. "Pilli is in the room, First Lady. " He glanced about, wentover to a massive easy chair a few feet way, and swung it aside. Something like a huge ball of golden fur behind it moved and sat up. 

It was an animal of some sort. Its head seemed turned toward the group, but whatever features it had remained hidden under the fur. Then an armlike the arm of a bear reached out and Trigger saw a great furred handthat in shape seemed completely human clutch the chair's edge. 

"He was resting, " Lyad said. "Not sleeping. Pilli doesn't sleep. He's aperfect guardian. Come here, Pilli--meet Trigger Argee. "

Pilli swung up on his feet. It was an impressively effortless motion. There was a thick wide torso on short thick legs under the golden fur. The structure was gorilla-like. Pilli might weigh around four hundredpounds. 

He started silently forward and Trigger felt a tingle of alarm. But hestopped six feet away. She looked at him. "Do I say something to Pilli?"

Lyad looked pleased. "No. He's a biostructure. A very intelligent one, but speech isn't included in his pattern. "

Trigger kept looking at the golden-furred nightmare. "How can he see toguard you through all that hair?"

"He doesn't see, " Lyad said. "At least not as we do. Pilli's part of oneof our Tranest experiments--the original stock came from the Maccadonlife banks, a small golden-haired Earth monkey. The present level of theexperiment is on the fancy side--it has four hearts, for example, andwhat amounts to a second brain at the lower half of its spine. But itdoesn't come equipped with visual organs. Pilli is one of twenty-threeof the type. They have compensatory perception of a kind that is stillquite mysterious. We hope to breed them past the speech barrier so theycan tell us what they do instead of seeing.... All right, Pilli. Runalong!" She said to Balmordan, "I believe he doesn't like that Vethithing of yours very much. "

Balmordan nodded. "I had the same impression. "

Perhaps, Trigger thought, that was why Pilli had been lurking so closeto them. She watched the biostructure move off down the terrace, grotesque and huge. She had got its scent as it went past her, a fresh, rather pleasant whiff, like the smell of ripe apples. An almost amiablesort of nightmare figure, Pilli was; the apple smell went with that, seemed to fit it. But nightmare was there too. She found herself feelingrather sorry for Pilli. 

"In a way, " Lyad said, "Pilli brings us to that matter of business Imentioned this afternoon. "

The group's eyes shifted over to her. She smiled. 

"We have good scientists on Tranest, " she said, "as Pilli, I think, demonstrates. " She nodded at Balmordan. "There are good scientists inthe Devagas Union. And everyone here is aware that the Treaties ofRestriction imposed on both our governments have made it impossible forour citizens to engage seriously in plasmoid research. "

Trigger nodded briefly as the light-amber eyes paused on her for amoment. Quillan had cautioned her not to show surprise at anything theErmetyne might say or do. If Trigger didn't know what to say herself, she was merely to look inscrutable. "I'll scrut, " he explained. "Theothers won't. I'll take over then and you just follow my lead. Get it?"

"Balmordan, " Lyad said, "I understand you are going to Manon to attendthe seminars and demonstrations on the plasmoid station?"

"That is true, First Lady, " said Balmordan. 

"Now I, " Lyad told the company, "shall be more honest. The informationreleased in those seminars is of no value whatever. He"--she nodded atthe Devagas scientist--"and I are going to Manon with the same goal inmind. That is to obtain plasmoids for our government laboratories. "

Balmordan smiled amiably. 

Trigger asked. "How do you intend to obtain them?"

"By offering very large sums of money, or equivalent inducements, topeople who are in a position to get them for me, " said Lyad. 

Quillan tut-tutted disapprovingly. "The First Lady's mind, " he toldTrigger, "turns readily to illegal methods. "

"When necessary, " Lyad said undisturbed, "as it is here. "

"How about you, sir?" Quillan asked Balmordan. "Are we to understandthat you also would be interested in the purchase of a middling plasmoidor two?"

"I would be, naturally, " Balmordan said. "But not at the risk of causingtrouble for my government. "

"Of course not, " Quillan said. He thought a moment. "You, Belchy?" heasked. 

Pluly looked alarmed. "No! No! No!" he said hastily. He blinked wildly. "I'll stick to the shipping business. It's safer. "

Quillan patted him fondly on the shoulder. "That's one law-abidingcitizen in this group!" He winked at Trigger. "Trigger's wondering, " hetold Lyad, "why she and I are being told these things. "

"Well, obviously, " Lyad said, "Trigger and you are in an excellentposition--or will be, very soon--to act as middlemen in the matter. "

"Wha.... " Trigger began, astounded. Then, as all eyes swiveled over toher, she checked herself. "Did you really think, " she asked Lyad, "thatwe'd agree to such a thing?"

"Certainly not, " said Lyad. "I don't expect anyone to agree to anythingtonight--though it's a safe assumption I'm not the only one here who hasmade sure this conversation is not being recorded, and will not beavailable for reconstruction. Well, Quillan?" She smiled. 

"How right you are, First Lady!" Quillan said. He tapped a breastpocket. "Scrambler and distorter present and in action. "

"And you, Balmordan?"

"I must admit, " Balmordan said pleasantly, "that I thought it wise totake certain precautions. "

"Very wise!" said Lyad. Her glance shifted, with some amusement in it, to Pluly. "Belchik?"

"You're a nerve-wracking woman, Lyad, " Belchik said unhappily. "Yes. I'mscrambling, of course. " He shuddered. "I can't afford to take chances. Not when you're around. "

"Of course not, and even so, " said Lyad, "there are still reasons whyan unconsidered word might be embarrassing in this company. So, no, Trigger, I'm not expecting anybody to agree to anything tonight. I'mmerely mentioning that I'm interested in the purchase of plasmoids. Incidentally, I'd be very much more interested even in seeing you, andQuillan, enter my employ directly. Yes, Belchik?"

Pluly had begun giggling wildly. 

"I was--ha-ha--having the same idea!" he gasped. "About oneof--ha-ha--of 'em anyway! I--"

He jerked and came to an abrupt stop, transfixed by Trigger's stare. Then he reached for his glass, blinking at top speed. "Excuse me, " hemuttered. 

"Hardly, Belchik!" said Lyad. She gave Trigger a small wink. "But I canassure you, Trigger Argee, that you'd find my pay and working conditionsvery attractive indeed. "

It seemed a good moment to look inscrutable. Trigger did. 

"Serious about that, Lyad?" asked Quillan. 

The Ermetyne said, "Certainly I'm serious. Both of you could be of greatvalue to me at present. " She looked at him a moment. "Did you everhappen to tell Trigger about the manner in which you re-established thefamily fortune?"

"Not in any great detail, " Quillan said. 

"A very good hijacker and smuggler went to waste when you signed up withthe Engineers, " Lyad said. "But perhaps not entirely to waste. "

"Perhaps not, " acknowledged Quillan. He grinned. "But I'm a modest man. One fortune's enough for me. "

"There was a time, you know, " Lyad said, "when I was rather afraid itwould be necessary to have you killed. "

Quillan laughed. "There was a time, " he admitted, "when I suspected youmight be thinking along those lines, First Lady! Didn't lose too much, did you?"

"I lost enough!" Lyad said. She wrinkled her nose at him. "But that'sall over and done with. And now--no more business tonight. I promise. "She turned her head a little. "Flam!" she called. 

"Yes, First Lady?" said the voice of the red-headed girl. 

"Bring us Miss Argee's property, please. "

Flam brought in a small package of flat disks taped together. Lyad tookthem. 

"Sometimes, " she told Quillan, "the Askab becomes a little independent. He's been spoken to. Here--you keep them for Trigger. "

She tossed the package lightly over to them. Quillan put out a hand andcaught it. 

"Thanks, " he said. He put the package in a pocket. "I'll call off mybeagles. "

"Suit yourself as to that, " said the Ermetyne. "It won't hurt the Askabto stay frightened a little longer. "

She checked herself. The room's ComWeb was signaling. Virod went over toit. A voice came through. 

"... The Garth-Manon subspace run begins in one hour. Rest cubicleshave been prepared.... "

"That means me, " Belchik Pluly said. He climbed hastily to his feet. "Can't stand dives! Get hallucinations. Nasty ones. " He staggered alittle then, and Trigger realized for the first time that Belchy had gotpretty thoroughly drunk. 

"Better give our guest a hand, Virod, " Lyad called over her shoulder. "Happy dreams, Belchik! Are you going by Rest, Trigger? No? You're not, of course, Quillan. Balmordan?"

The Devagas scientist also shook his head. 

"Then by all means, " Lyad said, "let's stay together a little whilelonger. "

15

"She, " said Trigger, "is a remarkable woman. "

"Yeah, " said Quillan. "Remarkable. "

"May I ask you, finally, a few pertinent questions?" Trigger inquiredhumbly. 

"Not here, sweet stuff, " said Quillan. 

"You're a bossy sort of slob, Heslet Quillan, " she said equably. 

Quillan didn't answer. They had come down the stairway to the storeroomslevel and were walking along the big lit hallway toward their cabins. Trigger felt pleasantly relaxed. But she did have a great many pertinentquestions to ask Quillan now, and she wanted to get started on them. 

"Oh!" she said suddenly. Just as suddenly, Quillan's hand was on hershoulder, moving her along. 

"Hush now, " he said. "And keep walking. "

"But you saw it, didn't you?" Trigger asked, trying to look back to thesmall open door into the storerooms they'd just passed. 

Quillan sighed. "Certainly, " he said. "Guy in space armor. "

"But what's he doing there?"

"Checking something, I suppose. " His hand left her shoulder; and, forjust a moment, his finger rested lightly across her lips. Triggerglanced up at him. He was walking on beside her, not looking at her. 

All right, she thought--she could take a hint. But she felt tense anduncomfortable now. Something was going on again, apparently. 

They turned into the side passage and came up to her cabin. Triggerstarted to turn to face him, and Quillan picked her up and went onwithout a noticeable break in his stride. Close to her ear, his voicewhispered, "Explain in a moment! Dangerous here. "

As the door to the end cabin closed behind them, he put her back on herfeet. He looked at his watch. 

"We can talk here, " he said. "But there may not be much time forconversation. " He gestured toward a table against the wall. "Take a lookat the setup. "

Trigger looked. The table was littered with instruments, like anelectronic workbench. A visual screen showed a view of both her owncabin and a section of the passage outside it, up to the point where itentered the big hall. 

"What is it?" she asked uncertainly. 

"Essentially, " said Quillan, "we've set up a catassin trap. "

"Catassin!" Trigger squeaked. 

"That's right. Don't get too nervous though. I've caught them before. Used to be a sort of specialty of mine. And there's one thing aboutthem--they'll blab their pointed little heads off if you can get onealive and promise it its catnip.... " He'd shucked off his jacket andtaken out of it a very large handgun with a bell-shaped mouth. He laidthe gun down next to the view screen. "In case, " he said, unreassuringly. "Now just a moment. "

He sat down in front of the view screen and did something to it. 

"All right, " he said then. "We're here and set. Probability periodstarts in three minutes, continues for sixty. Signal on any blip. Otherwise no gabbing. And remember they're _fast_. Don't get sappy. "

There was no answer. Quillan did something else to the screen and stoodup again. He looked broodingly at Trigger. "It's those damn computersagain!" he said. "I don't see any sense in it. "

"In what?" she asked shakily. 

"Everything that's happening around here is being fed back to them atthe moment, " he said. "When they heard about our invite to Lyad's dinnerparty, and who was to be present, they came up with a honey. In the timeperiod I mentioned a catassin is supposed to show up at your cabin. Theygive it a pretty high probability. "

Trigger didn't say anything. If she had, she probably would havesqueaked again. 

"Now don't worry, " he said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly betweena large thumb and four slightly less large fingers. "Nice muscle!" hesaid absently. "The cabin's trapped and I've taken other precautions. "He massaged the muscle gently. "Probably the only thing that will happenis that we'll sit around here for an hour or so, and then we'll have ahearty laugh together at those foolish computers!" He smiled. 

"I thought, " Trigger said without squeaking, "that everybody was prettysure it was dead. "

Quillan frowned. "Well, that's something else again! There are at leasttwo ways I know of to sneak it past that search. Jump it out and in witha subtub is one--they could have done that from their own cabin as soonas they had its pattern. So I don't really think it's dead. It's just--"

"Quillan, " a tiny voice said from the viewer. 

He turned, took two steps, and sat down fast before the viewer. "Goahead!"

"Fast motion in B section. Going your way. "

Fast motion. A thought flicked up. "Quillan--" Trigger began. 

He raised a shushing hand. "Get a silhouette?" he asked. His hands wentto a set of control switches and stayed there. 

"No. Pickup shows a haze like in the reconstruct. " An instant's pause. "Leaving B section. "

"Motion in C section, " said another voice. 

Quillan said, "All right. It's coming. No more verbal reports unless itchanges direction. If you want to stay alive, don't move unless you'rein armor. "

There was silence. Quillan sat unmoving, eyes fixed on the screen. Trigger stood just behind him. Her legs had begun to tremble. She'dbetter tell him. 

"Quillan--"

For an instant, in the screen, there was something like heat shimmer atthe far end of the passage. Then she saw her cabin door pop open. 

The interior of the cabin showed in a brief flare of blue light. In itwas a shape. It vanished instantly again. 

She heard Quillan make a shocked, incredulous sound. His left handslashed at a switch on the panel. 

Twenty feet from them, just behind the closed door to the passage, was asplatting noise like a tremendous slap. Then another noise, strangelylike a brief cloudburst. Then silence again. 

She realized Quillan was on his feet beside her, the oversized gun inhis hand. It was pointed at the door. His eyes switched suddenly fromthe door to the screen and back again. She felt him relaxing slowly. Then she discovered she was clutching a handful of his shirt along witha considerable chunk of tough skin. She went on clutching it. 

"Fly swatter got it!" he said. "Whew!" He looked down and patted theclutching hand. "No catassin! The trap in the cabin just wasn't fastenough. Had a gravity mine outside our door, just in case. _That_ wasbarely fast enough!" For once, Quillan looked almost awed. 

"L-l-l-like--" Trigger began. She tried again. "Like a little yellowman--"

"You saw it? In the cabin? Yes. Never saw anything just like it before!"

Trigger pressed her lips together to make them stay steady. 

"I have, " she said. "That's what I was trying to tell you. "

Quillan stared at her for an instant. "You'll tell me about it in acouple of minutes. I've got some quick work to do first. " He checkedhimself. A wide grin spread suddenly over his face. "Know something, doll?"

"What?"

"The damn computers!" Major Quillan said happily. "They goofed!"

 * * * * *

The gravity mine would have reduced almost any life-form which movedinto its field to a rather thin smear, but there wasn't even that leftof the yellow demon-shape. Something, presumably something it wascarrying, had turned it into a small blaze of incandescent energy as themine flattened it out. Which explained the sound like a cloudburst. Thathad been the passage's automatic fire extinguishers going into brief butcorrespondingly violent action. 

Quillan's group stayed out of sight for the time being. He'd barely gotthe mine put away, along with a handful of warped metal slugs, which waswhat the mine had left of their attacker's mechanical equipment, andTrigger's cabin door locked again, when three visitors came zooming downthe storerooms hall in a small car. A ship's engineer and twoassistants had arrived to check on what had started the extinguishers. 

"They may, " Quillan said hopefully, "just go away again. " He and Triggerwere watching the engineers through the viewer which had been extendedto cover their end of the passage. 

They didn't just go away again. They checked the extinguishers, lookedat the floor, still wet but rapidly absorbing the last drops of thebrief deluge. They exchanged puzzled comment. They checked everythingonce more. Finally the leader made use of the door announcer and askedif he might intrude. 

Quillan switched off the viewer. "Come in, " he said resignedly. 

The door opened. The three glanced at Quillan, and then atTrigger-plus-Beldon. Their eyes widened only slightly. Duty on the DawnCity produced hardened men. 

Neither Quillan nor Trigger could offer the slightest explanation as towhat had started the extinguishers. The engineers apologized andwithdrew. The door closed again. 

Quillan switched on the viewer. Their voices came back into the cabin asthey climbed into their car. 

"So that's how it happened, " one of the assistants was sayingreflectively. 

"Right, " said the ship's engineer. "Like to burst into flames myself. "

"Ha-ha-ha!" They drove off. 

Trigger flushed. She looked at Quillan. 

"Perhaps I ought to get into something else, " she said. "Now that theparty's over. "

"Perhaps, " Quillan admitted. "I'll have Gaya bring something down. Wewant to stay out of your cabin for an hour or so till everything's beenchecked. There'll be a few conferences to go through now. "

Gaya arrived next, with clothes. Trigger retired to the cabin's bathroomwith them and came out a few minutes later, dressed again. Meanwhile theDawn City's First Security Officer also had arrived and was setting up aportable restructure stage in the center of the cabin. He looked rathergrim, but he also looked like a very much relieved man. 

"I suggest we run your sequence off first, Major, " he said. "Then we canput them on together, and compare them. "

Trigger sat down on a couch beside Gaya to watch. She'd been told thatthe momentary view of the little demon-shape in the cabin had beendeleted from Security's copy of their own sequence and wasn't to bementioned. 

Otherwise there really was not too much to see. What the attackingcreature had used to blur the restructure wasn't clear, except that itwasn't a standard scrambler. Amplified to the limits of clarity andstepped down in time to the limit of immobility, all that emerged was ashifting haze of energy, which very faintly hinted at a dwarfish humanshape in outline. A rather unusually small and heavy catassin, theSecurity chief pointed out, would present such an outline. Thatsomething quite material was finally undergoing devastating structuraldisorganization on the gravity mine was unpleasantly obvious, but itproduced no further information. The sequence ended with the short blazeof heat which had set off the extinguishers. 

Then they ran the restructure of the preceding double killing. Triggerwatched, gulping a little, till it came to the point where the hazeshape actually was about to touch its victims. Then she studied thecarpet carefully until Gaya nudged her to indicate the business wasover. Catassins almost invariably used their natural equipment in thekill; it was a swift process, of course, but shockingly brutal, andTrigger didn't care to remember what the results looked like in a humanbeing. Both men had been killed in that manner; and the purposeobviously was to conceal the fact that the killer was not a catassin, but something even more efficient along those lines. 

It didn't occur to the Security chief to question Trigger. A temporalrestructure of a recent event was a far more reliable witness than anyset of human senses and memory mechanisms. He left presently, reassuredthat the catassin incident was concluded. It startled Trigger to realizethat Security did not seem to be considering seriously the possibilityof discovering the human agent behind the murders. 

Quillan shrugged. "Whoever did it is covered three ways in everydirection. The chief knows it. He can't psych four thousand people ongeneral suspicions, and he'd hit mind-blocks in every twentiethpassenger presently on board if he did. Anyway he knows we're on it, andthat we have a great deal better chance of nailing the responsiblecharacters eventually. "

"More information for the computers, eh?" Trigger said. 

"Uh-huh. "

"You got this little chunk the hard way, I feel, " she observed. 

"True, " Quillan admitted, "But we have to get it any way we can till weget enough to move on. Then we move. " He looked at her, with an air ofregarding a new idea. "You know, " he said, "you don't do badly for anamateur!"

"She doesn't do badly, " Gaya's voice said behind Trigger, "for anybody. How do you people feel about a drink? I thought I could use one myselfafter looking at the chief's restructure. "

Trigger felt herself coloring. Praise from the cloak and dagger experts!For some reason it pleased her immensely. She turned her head to smileat Gaya, standing there with three glasses on a tray. 

"Thanks!" she said. She took one of the glasses. Gaya held the tray outto Quillan and took the third glass herself. 

It was some five minutes later when Trigger remarked, "You know, I'mgetting sleepy. "

Quillan looked around the viewer equipment he and Gaya were dismantling. "Why not hit the couch over there and take a nap?" he suggested. "It'llbe about an hour before the boys can get down here for the realconference. "

"Good idea. " Trigger yawned, finished her drink, put the glass on atable, and wandered over to the couch. She stretched out on it. A drowsysomnolence enveloped her almost instantly. She closed her eyes. 

Ten minutes later, Gaya, standing over her, announced, "Well, she'sout. "

"Fine, " said Quillan, packaging the rest of the equipment. "Tell them tohaul in the rest cubicle. I'll be done here in a minute. Then you andthe lady warden can take over. "

Gaya looked down at Trigger. There was a trace of regret in her face. "Ithink, " she said, "she's going to be fairly displeased with you when shewakes up and finds she's on Manon. "

"Wouldn't doubt it, " said Quillan. "But from what I've seen of thatchick, she's going to get fairly displeased with me from time to time onthis operation anyway. "

Gaya looked at his back. 

"Major Quillan, " she said, "would you like a tip from a keen-eyedoperator?"

"Go ahead, ole keen-eyed op!" Quillan said in kindly tones. 

"Not that you don't have it coming, boy, " said Gaya. "But watchyourself! This one is dangerous. This one could sink you for keeps. "

"You're going out of your mind, doll, " said Quillan. 

16

The Precol headquarters dome on Manon Planet was still in the spot whereTrigger had left it, looking unchanged; but everything else in the areaseemed to have been moved, improved, expanded or taken away entirely, and unfamiliar features had appeared. In the screens of CommissionerTate's Precol offices, Trigger could see both the new metropolitan-sizedspaceport on which the Dawn City had set down that morning, and thetowering glassy structures of the giant shopping and recreation center, which had been opened here recently by Grand Commerce in its bid for acut of prospective outworld salaries. The salaries weren't entirelyprospective either. 

Ten miles away on the other side of Headquarters dome, new squares ofliving domes were sprouting up daily. At this morning's count theyhoused fifty-two thousand people. The Hub's major industries andassorted branches of Federation government had established a solidfoothold on Manon. 

Trigger turned her head as Holati Tate came into the office. He closedthe door carefully behind him. 

"How's the little critter doing?" he asked. 

"Still absorbing the goop, " Trigger said. She held Mantelish's smallmystery plasmoid cupped lightly between thumbs and fingers, its bottomside down in a shallow bowl half full of something which Mantelishconsidered to be nutritive for plasmoids, or at least for this one. Itssides pulsed lightly and regularly against her palms. "The level of thestuff keeps going down, " she added. 

"Good, " said Holati. He pulled a chair up to the table and sat downopposite her. He looked broodingly at plasmoid 113-A. 

"You really think this thing _likes_ me--personally?" Trigger inquired. 

Her boss said, "It's eating, isn't it? And moving. There were a coupleof days before you got here when it looked pretty dead to me. "

"Hard to believe, " Trigger observed, "that a sort of leech-looking thingcould distinguish between people. "

"This one can. Do you get any sensations while holding it?"

"Sensations?" She considered. "Nothing particular. It's just like I saidthe other time--little Repulsive is rather nice to feel. "

"For you, " he said. "I didn't tell you everything. "

"You rarely do, " Trigger remarked. 

"I'll tell you now, " said Holati. "The day after we left, when itstarted acting very agitated and then very droopy, Mantelish said itmight be missing the female touch it had got from you. He was beingfacetious, I think. But I couldn't see any reason not to try it, so Icalled in your facsimile and had her sit down at the table where thething was lying. "

"Yes?"

"Well, first it came flying up to her, crying 'Mama!' Not actually, ofcourse. Then it touched her hand and recoiled in horror. "

Trigger raised an eyebrow. 

"It looked like it, " he insisted. "We all commented on it. So then shereached out and touched it. Then she recoiled in horror. "

"Why?"

"She said it had given her a very nasty electric jolt. Apparently likethe one it gave Mantelish. "

Trigger glanced down dubiously at Repulsive. "Gee, thanks for letting mehold it, Holati! It seems to have stopped eating now, by the way. Orwhatever it does. Doesn't look much fatter if any, does it?"

The Commissioner looked. "No, " he said. "And if you weighed it, you'dprobably find it still weighs an exact three and a half pounds. Mantelish feels the thing turns any food intake directly into energy. "

"Then it should be able to produce a very nice jolt at the moment, "Trigger commented. "Now, what do I do with Repulsive?"

Holati took a towel from beneath the table and spread it out. "Absorbentmaterial, " he said. "Lay it on that and just let it dry. That's what weused to do. "

Trigger shook her head. "Next thing, I'll be changing its diapers!"

"It isn't that bad, " the Commissioner said. "Anyway, you will adoptbaby, won't you?"

"I suppose I have to. " She placed the plasmoid on the towel, wiped herhands and stepped back from it. "What happens if it falls on the floor?"

"Nothing, " Holati said. "It just moves on in the direction it was going. Pretty hard to hurt those things. "

"In that case, " Trigger said, "let's check out its container now. "

The Commissioner took Repulsive's container out of a desk safe andhanded it to her. Its outer appearance was that of a neat modern woman'shandbag with a shoulder strap. It had an antigrav setting which wouldreduce its overall weight, with the plasmoid inside, down to nine ouncesif Trigger wanted it that way. It also had a combination lock, unmarked, virtually invisible, the settings of which Trigger already hadmemorized. Without knowing the settings, a determined man using ahigh-powered needle blaster might have opened the handbag in around ninehours. A very special job. 

Trigger ran through the settings, opened the container and peeredinside. "Rather cramped, " she observed. 

"Not for one of them. We needed room for the gadgetry. "

"Yes, " she said. "Subspace rotation. " She shook her head. "Is thatanother Space Scout invention?"

"No, " said Holati. "They stole it from Subspace Engineers. Engineersdon't know we have it yet. Far as I know, nobody else has got it fromthem. Go ahead--give it a try. "

"I was going to. " Trigger snapped the container shut, slipped the strapover her shoulder and stood straight, left hand closed over the lowerrim of the purselike object. She shifted the ball of her thumb and thetip of her middle finger to the correct spots and began to applypressure. Then she started. Handbag and strap had vanished. 

"Feels odd!" She smiled. "And to bring it back, I just have to behere--the same place--and say those words. "

He nodded. "Want to try that now?"

Trigger waved her left hand gently through the air beside her. "Whathappens, " she asked, "if the thing surfaces exactly where my handhappens to be?"

"It won't surface if there's anything bulkier than a few dust motes inthe way. That's one improvement the Sub Engineers haven't heard aboutyet. "

"Well.... " She glanced around, picked up a plastic ruler from the deskbehind her, and moved back a cautious step. She waved the ruler's tipgingerly about in the area where the handbag had been. 

"Come, Fido!" she said. 

Nothing happened. She drew the ruler back. 

"Come, Fido!"

Handbag and strap materialized in mid-air and thumped to the floor. 

"Convinced?" Holati asked. He picked up the handbag and gave it back toher. 

"It seems to work. How long will that little plasmoid last if it's leftin subspace like that?"

He shrugged. "Indefinitely, probably. They're tough. We know thattwenty-four hours at a stretch won't bother it in the least, so we'veset that as the limit it's to stay rotated except in emergencies. "

"And you--and one other person I'm not to know about, but who isn'tanywhere near here--can also bring it back?"

"Yes. If we know the place from which it's been rotated. So theagreement is that--again except in absolute emergencies--it will berotated only from one of the six points specified and known to all threeof us. "

Trigger nodded. She opened the container and went over to the tablewhere the plasmoid still lay on its towel. It was dry by now. She pickedit up. 

"You're a lot of trouble, Repulsive!" she told it. "But these peoplethink you must be worth it. " She slipped it into the container, and itseemed to snuggle down comfortably inside. Trigger closed the handbag, lightened it to half its normal weight, slipped the strap back over herleft shoulder. "And now, " she inquired, "what am I to do with the stuffI usually keep in a purse?"

"You'll be in Precol uniform while you're here. We've had a specialuniform made for you. Extra pockets. "

Trigger sighed. 

"Oh, they're quite inconspicuous and convenient, " he assured her. "Wechecked with the girls on that. "

"I'll bet!" she said. "Did they okay the porgee pouch too?"

"Sure. Porgee doping is a big thing all over the Hub at the moment. Among the ladies anyway. Shows you're the delicate sort, or somethinglike that. I forget what they said. Want to start carrying it?"

"Hand it over, " Trigger said resignedly. "I did see quite a few poucheson the ship. Might as well get people used to thinking I've turned intoa porgee sniffer. "

Holati went back to the desk safe and took out a flat pouch, the lengthof his hand but narrower. He gave it to her. It appeared to be worked ofgold thread; one side was studded with tiny pearls, the opposite surfacewas plain. Trigger laid the plain side against the cloth of her skirt, just below the right hip, and let go. It adhered there. She stretchedher right leg out to the side and considered the porgee pouch. 

"Doesn't look too bad, " she conceded. "That's real porgee in the topsection?"

"The real article. Close to nine hundred and fifty credits worth. "

"Suppose somebody wants to borrow a sniff? Wouldn't be good to have themfumbling around the pouch very much!"

"They can't, " said the Commissioner. "That's why we made it porgee. Whenyou buy a supply, it has to be adjusted to your individual chemistry, exactly. That's mainly what makes it expensive. Try using someoneelse's, and it'll flip you across the room. "

"Better get this adjusted to my chemistry then. I might have to take ademonstration sniff now and then to make it look right. "

"We've already done that, " he said. 

"Good, " said Trigger. "Now let's see!" She straightened up, left handclosed lightly around the bottom of the purse, right hand loose at herside. Her eyes searched the office briefly. "Some object around here youdon't particularly value?" she asked. "Something largish?"

"Several, " the Commissioner said. He glanced around. "That overgrownflower pot in the corner is one. Why?"

"Just practicing, " said Trigger. She turned to face the flower pot. "That will do. Now--here I come along, thinking of nothing. " She startedwalking toward the flower pot. "Then, suddenly, in front of me, therestands a plasmoid snatcher. "

She stopped in mid-stride. Handbag and strap vanished, as her right handslapped the porgee pouch. The Denton popped into her palm. The flowerpot screeched and flew apart. 

"Golly!" she said, startled. "Come, Fido!" Handbag and strap reappearedand she reached out and caught the strap. She looked around atCommissioner Tate. 

"Sorry about your pot, Holati. I was just going to shake it up a little. I forgot you people had been handling my gun. I keep it switched tostunner myself when I'm carrying it, " she added pointedly. 

"Perfectly all right about the pot, " the Commissioner said. "I shouldhave warned you. Otherwise, I'd say all you'd need is a moment to seethem coming. "

Trigger spun the Denton to its stunner setting and laid it back insidethe slit which had appeared along the side of the porgee pouch. She ranthumb and finger tip along the length of the slit, and the pouch wassealed again. 

"That's the part that's worrying me, " she admitted. 

 * * * * *

When Trigger presented herself at Commissioner Tate's personal quartersearly that evening, she found him alone. 

"Sit down, " he said. "I've been trying to get hold of Mantelish for thepast hour. He's over on the other side of the planet again. "

Trigger sat down and lifted an eyebrow. "Should he be?"

"I don't think so, " said Holati. "But I've been overruled on that. He'sstill the best man the Federation has working on the various plasmoidproblems, so I'm not to interfere with his investigations any more thanI can show is absolutely necessary. It's probably all right. ThoseU-League guards of his aren't a bad group. "

"If they compare with the boys the League had watching the PlasmoidProject, they should be just about tops, " Trigger said. 

"The Space Scouts thank you for those kind words, " the Commissioner toldher. "Those weren't League guards. When it came to deciding who was tokeep an eye on you, I overruled everybody. "

She smiled. "I might have guessed it. What's there for the professor tobe investigating on the other side of Manon?"

"He's hunting for some theoretical creatures he calls wild plasmoids. "

"_Wild_ plasmoids?"

"Uh-huh. His idea is that some of the plasmoids the Old Galactics wereusing on Manon might have got away from them, or just been left lyingaround, so to speak, and could have survived till now. He thinks theymight even be reproducing themselves. He's looking for them with aspecial detector he built. "

Trigger held up a finger on which was a slim gold ring with a smallgreen stone in it. "Like this one?" she asked. 

"He's got a large version of that type of detector with him too. But hethinks that if any wild plasmoids are around, they're likely to be alongthe lines of 113-A. So he's also constructed a detector which reacts to113-A. "

"I see. " Trigger was silent a moment. "Does Mantelish have any idea whyRepulsive is the only plasmoid known to which our ring detectors don'treact?"

"Apparently he does, " Holati said. "But when he starts in on thosesubjects, I find him difficult to follow. " He looked soberly at Trigger. "There are times, " he confessed, "when I suspect Professor Mantelish issomewhat daft. But probably he's just so brilliant that he keeps fadingbeyond my mental range. "

Trigger laughed. "My father used to come home from a session withMantelish muttering the same sort of thing. " She glanced at the ringagain. "By the way, have any plasmoids actually been stolen around herefor us to detect?"

He nodded. "Quite a few have been snitched from Harvest Moon and variousstorage points by now. I wouldn't be surprised if some of them turn uphere in the dome eventually. Not that it's a serious loss. What thethieves have been getting away with is small stuff--plasmoid nuts andbolts, so to speak. Still, each of those would still fetch around ahundred thousand credits, if you offered them to the right people. Incidentally, if asking you to this conference has interfered with anypersonal plans, just say so. We can put it off till tomorrow. Especiallysince it's beginning to look as if Mantelish won't make it here either. "

"Either?" Trigger said. 

"Quillan's already had to cancel. He got involved with something duringthe afternoon. "

"Oh, " she said coolly. She looked at her watch. "I do have a dinner datewith Brule Inger in an hour and a half. But you said this meeting wasn'tto take more than an hour anyway, didn't you?"

He nodded. 

"Then I'm free. My quarters are arranged, and I'm ready to go back on myold job in the morning. "

"Fine, " said the Commissioner. "There are things I wanted to discusswith you privately anyway. If we can't get through to Mantelish inanother ten minutes, we'll go ahead with that. I would have liked tohave Quillan here to fill us in with data about some of the top-levelcrooks in the Hub. They're a specialty of his. I don't know too muchabout them myself. "

He paused. "That Lyad Ermetyne now, " he said, "looks as if she eitheralready is part of the main problem or is working very hard to getthere. She's had a Tranest warship stationed here for the past twoweeks. A thing called the Aurora. "

Trigger was startled. "But warships aren't allowed in Manon System!"

"It isn't in the system. It's stationed a half light-year away, where ithas a legal right to be. Nothing to worry about as such. It's just aheavy armed frigate, which is the limit Tranest is allowed to build. Since it's Lyad's private boat, I imagine it's been souped up witheverything they could throw in. Anyway, the fact that she sent it hereahead of her indicates she isn't just dropping in for a casual visit. "

"She made that pretty clear herself!" Trigger said. "Why do you thinkshe's being so open about it?"

He shrugged. "Might have a number of reasons. One could be that she'dget the beady eye anyway as soon as she showed up here. When Lyad goesanywhere, it's usually on business. After Quillan reported on yourdinner party, I got all the information I could on her. The First Ladystacks up as a tough cookie! Also smart. Most of those Ermetynes wind upbeing dead-brained by some loving relative, and apparently they have toknow how to whip up a sharp brew of poison before they're let intokindergarten. Lyad's been top dog among them since she was eighteen--"

His head turned. A bell had begun pinging in the next room. He stood up. 

"Probably Mantelish's outfit on the transmitter, " he said. "I told themto call as soon as they located him. " He stopped at the door. "Care fora drink, Trigger girl? You know where the stuff is. "

"Not just now, thanks. "

The Commissioner came back in a couple of minutes. "Darn fool got lostin a swamp! They found him finally, but he's too tired to come overnow. "

He sat down and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Do you remember thetime you passed out on the Harvest Moon?" he asked. 

Trigger looked at him, puzzled. "The time I what?"

"Passed out. Fainted. Went out cold. "

"I? You're out of your mind, Holati! I never fainted in my life. "

"Reason I asked, " he said, "is that I've been told a spell in a restcubicle--same thing as a rest cubicle anyway, only it's used fortherapy--sometimes resolves amnesias. "

"Amnesias! What _are_ you talking about?"

The Commissioner said. "I'm talking about you. This is bound to be ajolt, Trigger girl. Might have been easier after a drink. But I'll justgive it to you straight. About a week after Mantelish and his U-Leaguecrew first arrived here, you did pass out on one occasion while we wereon the Harvest Moon with them. And afterwards you didn't remember doingit. "

"I didn't?" Trigger said weakly. 

"No. I thought it might have cleared up, and you just had some reasonfor not wanting to mention it. " He got to his feet. "Like that drinknow--before I go on with the details?"

She nodded. 

17

Holati Tate brought her the drink and went on with the details. 

Trigger and he and a dozen or so of the first group of U-Leagueinvestigators had been in what was now designated as Section 52 ofHarvest Moon. The Commissioner was by himself, checking over someequipment which had been installed in one of the compartments. After awhile Doctor Azol joined him and told him Mantelish and the others hadgone on to another section. Holati and Azol finished the check-uptogether and were about to leave the area to catch up with the group, when Holati saw Trigger lying on the floor in an adjoining compartment. 

"You seemed to be in some kind of coma, " he said. "We picked you up andput you into a chair by one of the survey screens, and were trying toget out a call on Azol's suit communicator to the ambulance boat whenyou suddenly opened your eyes. You looked at me and said, 'Oh, there youare! I was just going to go looking for you. '"

"It was obvious that you didn't realize anything unusual had happened. Azol started to say something, but I stepped on his foot, and he caughton. In fact, he caught on so fast that I became a little suspicious ofhim. "

"Poor Azol!" Trigger said. 

"Poor nothing!" the Commissioner said cryptically. "I'll tell you aboutthat some other time. I cautioned Doctor Azol to say nothing to anybodyuntil the incident had been clarified, in view of the stringent securityprecautions being practiced ... Supposedly being practiced, " he amended. Then he'd returned to Manon Planet with Trigger immediately, where shewas checked over by Precol's medical staff. Physically there wasn't athing wrong with her. 

"And that, " said Trigger, feeling a little frightened, "is somethingelse I don't remember!"

"Well, you wouldn't, " the Commissioner said. "You were fed a hypno-sprayfirst. You went out for three hours. When you woke up, you thought you'dbeen having a good nap. Since the medics were sure you hadn't picked upsome odd plasmoid infection, I wanted to know just what else hadhappened on Harvest Moon. One of those scientific big shots might alsohave used a hypno-spray on you, with the idea of turning you into aconditioned assistant for future shenanigans. "

Trigger grinned faintly. "You do have a suspicious mind!" The grinfaded. "Was that what they were going to find out in that mind-searchinterview on Maccadon I skipped out on?"

"It's one of the things they might have looked for, " he agreed. 

Trigger gazed at him very thoughtfully for a moment. "Well, I lousedthat deal up!" she remarked. "But why is everybody--" She shook herhead. "Excuse me. Go on. "

The Commissioner went on. "Old Doc Leeharvis was handling the hypnosisherself. She hit what she thought might be a mind-block when she triedto get you to remember what happened. We know now it wasn't amind-block. But she wouldn't monkey with you any farther, and told me toget in an expert. So I called the Psychology Service's headquarters onOrado. "

Trigger looked startled, then laughed. "The eggheads? You went right tothe top there, didn't you?"

"Tried to, " said Holati Tate. "It's a good idea when you want realservice. They told me to stay calm and to say nothing to you. An expertwould be shipped out promptly. "

"Was he?"

"Yes. "

Trigger's eyes narrowed a little. "Same old hypno-spray treatment?"

"Right, " said Commissioner Tate. "He came, sprayed, investigated. Thenhe told me to stay calm, and went off looking puzzled. "

"Puzzled?" she said. 

"If I hadn't known before that experts come in all grades, " theCommissioner said, "I'd know it now. That first one they sent was justsharp enough to realize there might be something involved in the case hewasn't getting. But that was all. "

Trigger was silent a moment. "So there've been more of thoseinvestigations I don't know about!" she observed, her voice taking on anedge. 

"Uh-huh, " the Commissioner said cautiously. 

"How many?"

"Seven. "

Trigger flushed, straightened up, eyes blazing, and pronounced a veryunladylike word. 

"Excuse me, " she added a moment later. "I got carried away. "

"Perfectly all right, " said the Commissioner. 

"I've been getting just a bit fed up anyway, " Trigger went on, voice andcolor still high, "with people knocking me for a loop one way or anotherwhenever they happen to feel like it!"

"Don't blame you a bit, " he said. 

"And please don't think I don't appreciate your calling in all thoseexperts. I do. It's just their sneaky, underhanded, secretive methods Idon't go for!"

"Exactly how I feel about it, " said the Commissioner. 

Trigger stared at him suspiciously. "You're a pretty sneaky typeyourself!" she said. "Well, excuse the blowup, Holati. They probably hadsome reason for it. Have they found out anything at all with all thespraying and investigating?"

"Oh, yes. They seem to have made considerable progress. The last reportI had from them--about a month ago--shows that the original amnesia hasbeen completely resolved. "

Trigger looked surprised. "If it's been resolved, " she said reasonably, "why don't I remember what happened?"

"You aren't supposed to become conscious of it before the finalinterview--I don't know the reason for that. But the memory is availablenow. On tap, so to speak. They'll give you a cue, and then you'llremember it. "

"Just like that, eh?" She paused. "So the Psychology Service isWhatzzit. "

"Whatzzit?" said the Commissioner. 

She explained about Whatzzit. He grinned. 

"Yes, " he said. "They're the ones who've been giving the instructions, as far as you're concerned. "

Trigger was silent a moment. "I've heard, " she said, "the eggheads haveterrific pull when they want to use it. You don't hear much about themotherwise. Let me think just a little. "

"Go ahead, " said Holati. 

A minute ticked away. 

"What it boils down to so far, " Trigger said then, "is still pretty muchwhat you told me on Maccadon. The Psychology Service thinks I knowsomething that might help clean up the plasmoid problem. Or at leasthelp explain it. "

He nodded. 

"And the people who've been trying to grab me very probably are doing itfor exactly the same reason. "

He nodded again. "That's almost certain. "

"Do you think the eggheads might already have figured out what theconnection is?"

The Commissioner shook his head. "If they had, we'd be doing somethingabout it. The Federation Council is very nervous!"

"Well.... " Trigger said. She pursed her lips. "That Lyad.... " she said. 

"What about her?"

"She tried to hire me, " said Trigger. "Major Quillan reported it, Isuppose?"

"Sure. "

"And it wouldn't be just to steal some stupid plasmoid. Especially sinceyou say a number of small ones are already available. Then there're theones that raiders picked up in the Hub. She probably has a collection bynow. "

He nodded. "Probably. "

"She seems to know quite a bit about what's been going on.... "

"Very likely she does. "

"Let's grab her!" said Trigger. "We can do it quietly. And she's too bigto be mind-blocked. We'd get part of the answer. Perhaps all of it!"

Something flared briefly in the Commissioner's small gray eyes. Hereached over and patted her knee. 

"You're a girl after my own heart, Trigger girl, " he said. "I'm for it. But half the Council would have fainted dead away if they'd heard youmake that suggestion!"

"They're as touchy as that?" she asked, disappointed. 

"Yes--and you can't quite blame them. Fumbles could be pretty bad. Whenit comes to someone around Lyad's level, our own group is restricted todefensive counteraction. If we get evidence against her, it'll be up tothe diplomats to decide what's to be done about it. Tactfully. Wewouldn't be further involved. "

Trigger nodded, watching him. "Go on. "

"Well, defensive counteraction can cover a lot of things, of course. Ifwe actually run into the First Lady while we're engaged in it, we'llhold her--as long as we can. And from all accounts, now that she'sshowed up to take personal charge of things around here, we can expectsome very fast, very direct action from Lyad. "

"How fast?"

"My own guess, " said the Commissioner, "would be around a week. If shehasn't moved by then, we might help things along a little. "

"Make a few of those openings for her, eh? Well, that doesn't sound toobad. " Trigger reflected. "Then there's Point Number Two, " she said. 

"What's that?"

She grimaced. "I'm not real keen on it, " she confessed, "but I thinkwe'd better do something about that interview with Whatzzit I ducked outof. If they still want to talk to me--"

"They do. Very much so. "

"What's that business about their saying it was okay now for me to go onto Manon?"

Commissioner Tate tugged gently at his left ear lobe. "Frankly, " hesaid, "that's something that shook me a little. "

"Shook you? Why?"

"It's that matter of experts coming in grades. The upper ranks in thePsychology Service are extremely busy people, I understand. After yourfirst interview we were shifted upward promptly. A couple of middlinghigh-bracket investigators took over for a while. But after the fourthinterview I was told I'd have to bring you to the Hub to let somebodyreally competent handle the next stage of whatever they've been doing. They said they couldn't spare anybody of that caliber for a trip toManon. "

"Was _that_ the real reason we went to Maccadon?" Trigger asked, startled. 

"Sure. But we still hadn't got anywhere near the Service's top levelthen. As I get it, their topnotchers don't spend much time on individualcases. They keep busy with things on the scale of our more bothersomeplanetary cultures--and there are supposed to be only a hundred or so ofthem in that category. So I was more than a little surprised when theService informed me finally one of those people was coming to Maccadonto conduct your ninth interview. "

"One of the real eggheads!" Trigger smiled nervously. "And then I justtook off! They can't have too good an opinion of me at the moment, youknow. "

"Apparently that didn't upset them in the least, " the Commissionersaid. "They told me to stay calm and make sure you got to Manon allright. Then they said they had a ship operating in this area, and they'droute it over to Manon after you arrived here. "

"A ship?" Trigger asked. 

"I've seen a few of their ships--they looked like oversized flyingmountains. Camouflage jobs. What they actually are is spacegoingsuperlaboratories, from what I've heard. This one has a couple of thosetopnotchers on board, and one of them will take you on. It's due here ina day or so. "

Trigger had paled somewhat. "You know, " she said, "I feel a littleshaken myself now. "

"I'm not surprised, " said the Commissioner. 

She shook her head. "Well if they're topnotchers, they must know whatthey're doing. " She gave him a smile. "Looks like I'm somethingextremely unusual! Like a bothersome planetary culture.... Weak joke, "she added. 

The Commissioner ignored the weak joke. "There's another thing, " he saidthoughtfully. 

"What's that?"

"When I mentioned your reluctance about being interviewed, they told menot to worry about it--that you wouldn't try to duck out again. That'swhy I was surprised when you brought up the matter of the interviewyourself just now. "

"Now that is odd, " Trigger admitted after a pause. "How would theyknow?"

"Right, " he said. He sighed. "Guess we're both a little out of our depththere. I've come close to getting impatient with them a few times--hadthe feeling they were stalling me off and holding back information. Butpresumably they do know what they're doing. " He glanced at his watch. "That hour's about up now, by the way. "

"Well, if there's something else that should be discussed I can break mydinner date, " Trigger said, somewhat reluctantly. "I had a chance totalk with Brule at the spaceport for a while, when we came in thismorning. "

"I wasn't suggesting that, " said Holati. "There still are things to bediscussed, but a few hours one way or the other won't make anydifference. We'll get together again around lunch tomorrow. Then you'llbe filled in pretty well on all the main points of this business. "

Trigger nodded. "Fine. "

"What I had in mind right now was that the Service people suggestedhaving you look over their last report on you after your arrival. You'dhave just enough time for that before going to keep your date. Care todo it?"

"I certainly would!" Trigger said. 

The transmitter signaled for attention while she was studying thereport. Holati Tate went off to answer it. The report was ratherlengthy, and Trigger was still going over it when he got back. He satdown again and waited. 

When she looked up finally, he asked, "Can you make much sense of it?"

"Not very much, " Trigger admitted. "It just states what seems to havehappened. Not how or why. Apparently they did get me to develop a totalrecall of that knocked-out period in the last interview--I even reportedhearing you and Doctor Azol moving around and talking in the nextcompartment. "

He nodded. "I remember enough of my conversation with Azol to be able toverify that part of it. "

"Then, some time before I actually fell down, " said Trigger, "I wasapparently already in that mysterious coma. Getting deeper into it. Itstarted when I walked away from Mantelish's group, without having anyparticular reason for doing it. I just walked. Then I was in anothercompartment by myself and still walking, and the stuff kept gettingdeeper, until I lost physical control of myself and fell down. Then Ilay there a while until you came down that aisle and saw me. And afteryou'd picked me up and put me in that chair--just like that, everythingclears up! Except that I don't remember what happened and think I'vejust left Mantelish to go looking for you. I don't even wonder how Ihappen to be sitting there in a chair!"

The Commissioner smiled briefly. "That's right. You didn't. "

Her slim fingers tapped the pages of the report, the green stone in thering he'd given her to wear reflecting little flashes of light. "Theyseem quite positive that nobody else came near me during that period. And that nobody had used a hypno-spray on me or shot a hypodermic pelletinto me--anything like that--before the seizure or whatever it was cameon. How do you suppose they could be so sure of that?"

"I wouldn't know, " Holati said. "But I think we might as well assumethey're right. "

"I suppose so. What it seems to boil down to is they're saying I wasundergoing something like a very much slowed-down, very profoundemotional shock--source still undetermined, but profound enough to knockme completely out for a while. Only they also say that--for a whole listof reasons--it couldn't possibly have been an emotional shock after all!And when the effect left, it went instantaneously. That would be justthe reverse to the pattern of an emotional shock, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, " he said. "That occurred to me too, but it didn't explain anythingto me. Possibly it's explained something to the Psychology Service. "

"Well, " Trigger said, "it's certainly all very odd. Very disagreeable, too!" She laid the report down on the arm of her chair and looked at theCommissioner. "Guess I'd better run now, " she said. "But there wassomething you said before that made me wonder. There was really verylittle of Doctor Azol left after that plasmoid got through with him. "

He nodded. "True. "

"It wasn't Azol, was it?"

"No. "

"Man, oh, man!" Trigger jumped up, bent over his chair and gave him aquick peck on an ear tip. "If I ask one more question, we'll be sittinghere the next two hours. I'll run instead! See you around lunchtime, Commissioner!"

"Right, Trigger, " he said, getting up. 

He closed the door behind her and went back to the transmitter. Helooked rather unhappy. 

"Yes?" said a voice in the transmitter. 

"She just left, " Commissioner Tate said. "Get on the beam and staythere!"

18

"Well, " Trigger said, regarding Brule critically, "I just meant to saythat you're getting the least little bit plump here and there, under allthat tan. I'll admit it doesn't show yet when you're dressed. "

Brule smiled tolerantly. In silver swimming trunks and sandals, he wasobviously a very handsome hunk of young man, and he knew it. So didTrigger. So did a quartet of predatory young females eyeing themspeculatively from a table only twenty feet away. 

"I've come swimming here quite a bit since they opened the Center, " hesaid. He flexed his right arm and regarded his biceps complacently. "That's just streamlined muscle you're looking at, sweetheart!"

Trigger reached over and poked the biceps with a finger tip. "Muscle?"she said, smiling at him. "It dents. See?"

He clasped his other hand over hers and squeezed it lightly. 

"Oh, golly, Brule!" she said happily. "I'm so glad I'm back!"

He gave her the smile. "You're not the only glad one!"

She looked around, humming softly. They were having dinner in one of theGrand Commerce Center's restaurants. This one happened to be beneath thesurface of the artificial swimming lake installed in the Center--a giantgrotto surrounded by green-gold chasms of water on every side. Underwater swimmers and bottom walkers moved past beyond the widewindows. A streak of silvery swiftness against a dark red canyon wallbefore her was trying to keep away from a trio of pursuing spearfishermen. Even the lake fish were Hub imports, advertised as such bythe Center. 

Her eyes widened suddenly. "Hey!" she said. 

"What?"

"That group of people up there!"

Brule looked. "What about them?"

"No suits, you idiot!"

He grinned. "Oh, a lot of them do that. Okay by Federation law, youknow. And seeing Manon's so close to becoming open Federation territory, we haven't tried to enforce minor Precol regulations much lately. "

"Well--" Trigger began. He was still smiling. "Have you been doing it?"she inquired suspiciously. 

"Swimming in the raw? Certainly. Depends on the company. If you weren'tsuch a little prude, I'd have suggested it tonight. Want to try itlater?"

Trigger colored. Prude again, she thought. "Nope, " she said. "There arelimits. "

He patted her cheek. "On you it would look cute. "

She shook her head, aware of a small fluster of guilt. There had beenconsiderably less actual coverage in the Beldon costume than there wasin the minute two-piece counterpart to Brule's silver trunks she wore atthe moment. She'd have to tell Brule about the Beldon stunt, since itwas more than likely he'd hear about it from others--Nelauk Pluly, forone. 

But not now. Things were getting just a little delicate along that lineat the moment. 

"Leave us change the subject, pig, " she said cheerfully. "Tell me whatelse you've been doing besides acquiring a gorgeous tan. "

A couple of hours later, things began to get delicate again. Samesubject. Trigger had been somewhat startled at the spaceport when Bruletold her he had shifted his living quarters to a Center apartment, andthat a large number of Precol's executives were taking similarliberties. Holati's stand-in, Acting Commissioner Chelly, apparentlyhadn't been too successful at keeping up personnel discipline. 

She hadn't said anything. It was true that Manon was still a precolonialplanet only as a technicality. They didn't know quite as much about itas they had to know before it could be officially released forunrestricted settling, but by now there was considerable excuse forloosening up on many of the early precautionary measures. For one thing, there were just so many Hub people around nowadays that it would havebeen a practical impossibility to enforce all Precol rules. 

What bothered her mainly about the business of Brule's Center apartmentwas that it might make the end of the evening less pleasant than shewanted it to be. Brule had become the least bit swacked. Not at alloffensively, but he tended to get pretty ambitious then. And during thepast few hours she'd noticed that something had changed in his attitudetoward her. He'd always been confident of himself when it came to women, so it wasn't that. It was perhaps, Trigger thought, like an unspokenultimatum along those lines. And she'd felt herself freezing up a littlein response to the thought. 

The apartment was very beautiful. Nelauk, she guessed. Or somebody elselike that. Brule's taste was good, but he simply wouldn't have thoughtof a lot of the details here. Neither, Trigger conceded, would she. Someof the details looked pretty expensive. 

He came back into the living room in a dressing gown, carrying a coupleof drinks. It was going to get awkward, all right. 

"Like it?" he asked, waving a hand around. 

"It's beautiful, " Trigger said honestly. She smiled. She sipped at thedrink and placed it on the arm of her chair. "Somebody like an interiordecorator help you with it?"

Brule laughed and sat down opposite her with his drink. The laugh hadsounded the least bit annoyed. "You're right, " he said. "How did youguess?"

"You never went in for art exactly, " she said. "This room is a work ofart. "

He nodded. He didn't look annoyed any more. He looked smug. "It is, isn't it?" he said. "It didn't even cost so very much. You just have toknow how, that's all. "

"Know how about what?" Trigger asked. 

"Know how to live, " Brule said. "Know what it's all about. Then it'seasy. "

He was looking at her. The smile was there. The warm, rich voice wasthere. All the old charm was there. It was Brule. And it wasn't. Triggerrealized she was twisting her hands together. She looked down at them. The little jewel in the ring Holati Tate had given her to wear blinkedback with crimson gleamings. 

Crimson!

She drew a long, slow breath. 

"Brule, " she said. 

"Yes?" said Brule. At the edge of her vision she saw the smile turneager. 

Trigger said, "Give me the plasmoid. " She raised her eyes and looked athim. He'd stopped smiling. 

Brule looked back at her a long time. At least it seemed a long time toTrigger. The smile suddenly returned. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, almost plaintively. "If it'sa joke, I don't get it. "

"I just said, " Trigger repeated carefully, "give me the plasmoid. Theone you stole. "

Brule took a swallow of his drink and put the glass down on the floor. "Aren't you feeling well?" he asked solicitously. 

"Give me the plasmoid. "

"Honestly, Trigger. " He shook his head. He laughed. "What _are_ youtalking about?"

"A plasmoid. The one you took. The one you've got here. "

Brule stood up. He studied her face, blinking, puzzled. Then he laughed, richly. "Trigger, I've fed you one drink too many! I never thought you'dlet me do it. Be sensible now--if I had a plasmoid here, how could youtell?"

"I can tell. Brule, I don't know how you took it or why you took it. Idon't really care. " And that was a lie, Trigger thought dismally. Shecared. "Just give it to me, and I'll put it back. We can talk about itafterwards. "

"Afterwards, " Brule said. The laugh came again, but it sounded a littlehollow. He moved a step toward her, stopped again, hands on his hips. "Trigger, " he said soberly, "if I've ever done anything you mightn'tapprove of, it was done for both of us. You realize that, don't you?"

"I think I do, " Trigger said warily. "Yes. Give it to me, Brule. "

Brule leaped forward. She slid sideways out of the chair to the floor ashe leaped. She was crying inside, she realized vaguely. Brule was goingto kill her now, if he could. 

She caught his left foot with both hands as he came down, and twistedviciously. 

Brule shouted something. His red, furious face swept by above. Hethumped to the floor beside her, one leg flung across her thighs, gripping. 

In colonial school Brule had received the same basic training in unarmedcombat that Trigger had. He was close to eighty pounds heavier thanTrigger, and it was still mostly muscle. But it was nearly four yearsnow since he had bothered himself with drills. 

And he hadn't been put through Mihul's advanced students' courseslately. 

He stayed conscious a little less than nine seconds. 

The plasmoids were in a small electronic safe built into a musiccabinet. The stamp to the safe was in Brule's billfold. 

There were three of them, about the size of mice, starfish-shaped lumpsof translucent, hard, colorless jelly. They didn't move. 

Trigger laid them in a row on the polished surface of a small table, andblinked at them for a moment from a streaming left eye. The right eyewas swelling shut. Brule had got in one wild wallop somewhere along theline. She picked up a small jar, emptied some spicy-smelling, crumblycontents out on the table, dropped the plasmoids inside, closed the jarand left the apartment with it. Brule was just beginning to stir andgroan. 

Commissioner Tate hadn't retired yet. He let her in without a word. Trigger put the jar down on a table. 

"Three of your nuts and bolts in there, " she said. 

He nodded. "I know. "

"I thought you did, " said Trigger. "Thanks for the quick cure. But rightat the moment I don't like you very much, Holati. We can talk about thatin the morning. "

"All right, " said the Commissioner. He hesitated. "Anything that shouldbe taken care of before then?"

"It's been taken care of, " Trigger said. "One of our employees has beenmoderately injured. I dialed the medics to go pick him up. They have. Good night. "

"You might let me do something for that eye, " he said. 

Trigger shook her head. "I've got stuff in my quarters. "

She locked herself into her quarters, got out a jar of quick-heal andanointed the eye and a few other minor bruises. She put the jar away, made a mechanical check of the newly installed anti-intrusion devices, dimmed the lights and climbed into her bunk. For the next twenty minutesshe wept violently. Then she fell asleep. 

An hour or so later, she turned over on her side and said withoutopening her eyes, "Come, Fido!"

The plasmoid purse appeared just above the surface of the bunk betweenTrigger's pillow and the wall. It dropped with a small thump and stoodbalanced uncertainly. Trigger slept on. 

Five minutes after that, the purse opened itself. A little later again, Trigger suddenly shifted her shoulder uneasily, frowned and made alittle half-angry, half-whimpering cry. Then her face smoothed out. Herbreathing grew quiet and slow. 

Major Heslet Quillan of the Subspace Engineers came breezing into ManonPlanet's spaceport very early in the morning. A Precol aircar picked himup and let him out on a platform of the Headquarters dome nearCommissioner Tate's offices. Quillan was handed on toward the officesthrough a string of underlings and reached the door just as it openedand Trigger Argee stepped through. 

He grasped her cordially by the shoulders and cried out a cheery hello. Trigger made a soft growling sound in her throat. Her left hand choppedright, her right hand chopped left. Quillan grunted and let go. 

"What's the matter?" he inquired, stepping back. He rubbed one arm, thenthe other. 

Trigger looked at him, growled again, walked past him, and disappearedthrough another door, her back very straight. 

"Come in, Quillan, " Commissioner Tate said from within the office. 

Quillan went in and closed the door behind him. "What did I do?" heasked bewilderedly. 

"Nothing much, " said Holati. "You just share the misfortune of being amale human being. At the moment, Trigger's against 'em. She blew up theBrule Inger setup last night. "

"Oh!" Quillan sat down. "I never did like that idea much, " he said. 

The Commissioner shrugged. "You don't know the girl yet. If I'd hauledInger in, she would never have really forgiven me for it. I had to lether handle it herself. Actually she understands that. "

"How did it go?"

"Her cover reported it was one hell of a good fight for some seconds. Ifyou'd looked closer, you might have just spotted the traces of theshiner Inger gave her. It was a beaut last night. "

Quillan went white. 

"But if you're thinking of having a chat with Inger re that part of it, "the Commissioner went on, "forget it. " He glanced at a report from themedical department on his desk. "Dislocated shoulder ... Broken thumb... Moderate concussion. And so on. It was the throat punch thatfinished the matter. He can't talk yet. We'll call it square. "

Quillan grunted. "What are you going to do with him now?"

"Nothing, " Holati said. "We know his contacts. Why bother? He'll resignend of the month. "

Quillan cleared his throat and glanced at the door. "I suppose she'llwant him put up for rehabilitation--seemed pretty fond of him. "

"Relax, son, " said the Commissioner. "Trigger's an individualist. IfInger goes up for rehabilitation, it will be because he wants it. And hedoesn't, of course. Being a slob suits him fine. He's just likely to bemore cautious about it in future. So we'll let him go his happy way. Now--let's get down to business. How does Pluly's yacht harem stack up?"

A reminiscent smile spread slowly over Quillan's face. He shook hishead. "Awesome, brother!" he said. "Plain awesome!"

"Pick up anything useful?"

"Nothing definite. But whenever Belchy comes out of the esthetictrances, he's a worried man. Count him in. "

"For sure?"

"Yes. "

"All right. He's in. Crack the Aurora yet?"

"No, " said Quillan. "The girls are working on it. But the Ermetyne keepsa mighty taut ship and a mighty disciplined crew. We'll have a couple ofthose boys wrapped up in another week. No earlier. "

"A week might be soon enough, " said the Commissioner. "It also mightnot. "

"I know it, " said Quillan. "But the Aurora does look a little bitobvious, doesn't she?"

"Yes, " Holati Tate admitted. "Just a little bit. "

19

By lunchtime, Trigger was acting almost cordial again. "I've got thePrecol job lined up, " she reported to Holati Tate. "I'll handle it likeI used to, whenever I can. When I can't, the kids will shift inautomatically. " The kids were the five assistants among whom her dutieshad been divided in her absence. 

"Major Quillan called me up to Mantelish's lab around ten, " she went on. "They wanted to see Repulsive, so I took him up there. Then it turnedout Mantelish wanted to take Repulsive along on a field trip thisafternoon. "

Holati looked startled. "He can't do that, and he knows it!" He reachedfor the desk transmitter. 

"Don't bother, Commissioner. I told Mantelish I'd been put in charge ofRepulsive, and that he'd lose an arm if he tried to walk out of the labwith him. "

Holati cleared his throat. "I see! How did Mantelish react?"

"Oh, he huffed a bit. Like he does. Then he calmed down and agreed hecould get by without Repulsive out there. So we stood by while hemeasured and weighed the thing, and so on. After that he got friendlyand said you'd asked him to fill me in on current plasmoid theory. "

"So I did, " said Holati. "Did he?"

"He tried, I think. But it's like you say. I got lost in about threesentences and never caught up. " She looked curiously at theCommissioner. "I didn't have a chance to talk to Major Quillan alone, soI'm wondering why Mantelish was told the I-Fleets in the Vishni area arehunting for planets with plasmoids on them. I thought you felt he wastoo woolly-minded to be trusted. "

"We couldn't keep that from him very well, " Holati said. "He was the boywho thought of it. "

"You didn't have to tell him they'd found some possibles did you?"

"He did, unfortunately. He's had those plasmoid detectors of his forabout a month, but he didn't happen to think of mentioning them. Thereason he was to come back to Manon originally was to sort over thestuff the Fleets have been sending back here. It's as weird a collectionof low-grade life-forms as I've ever seen, but not plasmoid. Mantelishwent into a temper and wanted to know why the idiots weren't usingdetectors. "

"Oh, Lord!" Trigger said. 

"That's what it's like when you're working with him, " said theCommissioner. "We started making up detectors wholesale and rushing themout there, but the new results haven't come in yet. "

"Well, that explains it. " Trigger looked down at the desk a moment, thenglanced up and met the Commissioner's eye. She colored slightly. 

"Incidentally, " she said, "I did take the opportunity to apologize toMajor Quillan for clipping him a couple this morning. I shouldn't havedone that. "

"He didn't seem offended, " said Holati. 

"No, not really, " she agreed. 

"And I explained to him that you had a very good reason to feeldisturbed. "

"Thanks, " said Trigger. "By the way, was he really a smuggler at onetime? And a hijacker?"

"Yes--very successful at it. It's excellent cover for some phases ofIntelligence work. As I heard it, though, Quillan happened to scrambleup one of the Hub's nastier dope rings in the process, and was brokentwo grades in rank. "

"Broken?" Trigger said. "Why?"

"Unwarranted interference with a political situation. The Scouts arerough about that. You're supposed to see those things. Sometimes youdon't. Sometimes you do and go ahead anyway. They may pat you on theback privately, but they also give you the axe. "

"I see, " she said. She smiled. 

"Just how far did we get in bringing you up to date yesterday?" theCommissioner asked. 

"The remains that weren't Doctor Azol, " Trigger said. 

If it hadn't been for the funny business with Trigger, Holati said, hemightn't have been immediately skeptical about Doctor Azol's supposeddemise by plasmoid during a thrombosis-induced spell of unconsciousness. There had been no previous indications that the U-League's screening ofits scientists, in connection with the plasmoid find, might have beenstrategically loused up from the start. 

But as things stood, he did look on the event with very considerableskepticism. Doctor Azol's death, in that particular form, seemed toomuch of a coincidence. For, beside himself, only Azol knew that anotherperson already had suddenly and mysteriously lost consciousness onHarvest Moon. Only Azol therefore might expect that the Commissionerwould quietly inform the official investigators of the precedingincident, thus cinching the accidental death theory in Azol's case muchmore neatly than the assumed heart attack had done. 

The Commissioner went on from there to the reflection that if Azol hadchosen to disappear, it might well have been with the intention ofconveying important information secretly back to somebody waiting for itin the Hub. He saw to it that the remains were preserved, and that wordof what could have happened was passed on to a high Federation officialwhom he knew to be trustworthy. That was all he was in a position to do, or interested in doing, himself. Security men presently came and tookthe supposed vestiges of Doctor Azol's body back to the Hub. 

"It wasn't until some months later, when the works blew up and I was puton this job, that I heard any more about it, " Holati Tate said. "Itwasn't Azol. It was part of some unidentifiable cadaver which he'dpresumably brought with him for just such a use. Anyway, they had Azol'sgene patterns on record, and they didn't jibe. "

His desk transmitter buzzed and Trigger took it on an earphoneextension. 

"Argee, " she said. She listened a moment. "All right. Coming over. " Shestood up, replacing the earphone. "Office tangle, " she explained. "Guessthey feel I'm fluffing, now I'm back. I'll get back here as soon as it'sstraightened out. Oh, by the way. "

"Yes?"

"The Psychology Service ship messaged in during the morning. It'llarrive some time tomorrow and wants a station assigned to it outside thesystem, where it won't be likely to attract attention. Are they reallyas huge as all that?"

"I've seen one or two that were bigger, " the Commissioner said. "But notmuch. "

"When they're stationed, they'll send someone over in a shuttle to pickme up. "

The Commissioner nodded. "I'll check on the arrangements for that. Theidea of the interview still bothering you?"

"Well, I'd sooner it wasn't necessary, " Trigger admitted. "But I guessit is. " She grinned briefly. "Anyway, I'll be able to tell mygrandchildren some day that I once talked to one of the real eggheads!"

The Psychology Service woman who stood up from a couch as Trigger cameinto the small spaceport lounge next evening looked startlingly similarto Major Quillan's Dawn City assistant, Gaya. Standing, you could seethat she was considerably more slender than Gaya. She had all of Gaya'sgood looks. 

"The name is Pilch, " she said. She looked at Trigger and smiled. It wasa good smile, Trigger thought; not the professional job she'd expected. "And everyone who knows Gaya, " she went on, "thinks we must be twins. "

Trigger laughed. "Aren't you?"

"Just first cousins. " The voice was all right too--clear and easy. Trigger felt herself relax somewhat. "That's one reason they picked meto come and get you. We're already almost acquainted. Another is thatI've been assigned to take you through the preliminary work for yourinterview after we get to the ship. We can chat a bit on the way, andthat should make it seem less disagreeable. Boat's in the speedboat parkover there. "

They started down a short hallway to the park area. "Just howdisagreeable is it going to be?" Trigger asked. 

"Not at all bad in your case. You're conditioned to the processes morethan you know. Your interviewer will just pick up where the last jobended and go on from there. It's when you have to work down throughbarriers that you have a little trouble. "

Trigger was still mulling that over as she stepped ahead of Pilch intothe smaller of two needle-nosed craft parked side by side. Pilchfollowed her in and closed the lock behind them. "The other one's acombat job, " she remarked. "Our escort. Commissioner Tate made very surewe had one, too!" She motioned Trigger to a low soft seat that took uphalf the space of the tiny room behind the lock, sat down beside her andspoke at a wall pickup. "All set. Let's ride!"

Blue-green tinted sky moved past them in the little room's viewerscreen; then a tilted landscape flashed by and dropped back. Pilchwinked at Trigger. "Takes off like a scared yazong, that boy! He'll racethe combat job to the ship. About those barriers. Supposing I told yousomething like this. There's no significant privacy invasion in thisline of work. We go directly to the specific information we're lookingfor and deal only with that. Your private life, your personal thoughts, remain secret, sacred and inviolate. What would you say?"

"I'd say you're a liar, " Trigger said promptly. 

"Of course. That sort of thing is sometimes told to nervousinterviewees. We don't bother with it. But now supposing I told you verysincerely that no recording will be made of any little personal glimpseswe may get?"

"Lying again. "

"Right again, " said Pilch. "You've been scanned about as thoroughly asanyone ever gets to be outside of a total therapy. Your personalsecrets are already on record, and since I'm doing most of thepreparatory work with you, I've studied all the significant-looking onesvery closely. You're a pretty good person, for my money. All right?"

Trigger studied her face uncomfortably. Hardly all right, but.... 

"I guess I can stand it, " she said. "As far as you're concerned, anyway. " She hesitated. "What's the egghead like?"

"Old Cranadon?" said Pilch. "You won't mind her a bit, I think. Verymotherly old type. Let's get through the preparations first, and thenI'll introduce you to her. If you think it would make you morecomfortable, I'll just stay around while she's working. I've sat in onher interviews before. How's that?"

"Sounds better, " Trigger said. She did feel a good deal relieved. 

They slid presently into a tunnel-like lock of the space vehicle HolatiTate had described as a flying mountain. From what Trigger could see ofit in the guide lights on the approach, it did rather closely resemble avery large mountain of the craggier sort. They went through a series oflifts, portals and passages, and wound up in a small and softly lit roomwith a small desk, a very large couch, a huge wall-screen, and assortedgadgetry. Pilch sat down at the desk and invited Trigger to make herselfcomfortable on the couch. 

Trigger lay down on the couch. She had a very brief sensation of fallinggently through dimness. 

Half an hour later she sat up on the couch. Pilch switched on a desklight and looked at her thoughtfully. Trigger blinked. Then her eyeswidened, first with surprise, then in comprehension. 

"Liar!" she said. 

"Hm-m-m, " said Pilch. "Yes. "

"That _was_ the interview!"

"True. "

"Then you're the egghead!"

"Tcha!" said Pilch. "Well, I believe I can modestly describe myself asbeing like that. Yes. You're another, by the way. We're just smart aboutdifferent things. Not so very different. "

"You were smart about this, " Trigger said. She swung her legs off thecouch and regarded Pilch dubiously. Pilch grinned. 

"Took most of the disagreeableness out of it, didn't it?"

"Yes, " Trigger admitted, "it did. Now what do we do?"

"Now, " said Pilch, "I'll explain. "

The thing that had caught their attention was a quite simple process. Itjust happened to be a process the Psychology Service hadn't observedunder those particular circumstances before. 

"Here's what our investigators had the last time, " Pilch said. "Linesand lines of stuff, of course. But here's a simple continuity whichmakes it clear. Your mother dies when you're six months old. Then thereare a few nurses whom you don't like very much. Good nurses but franklymuch too stupid for you, though you don't know that, and they don'teither, naturally. Next, you're seven years old--a bit over--andthere's a mud pond on the farm near Ceyce where you spend all yourvacations. You just love that old mud pond. "

Trigger laughed. "A smelly old hole, actually! Full of froggy sorts ofthings. I went out to that farm six years ago, just to look around itagain. But you're right. I did love that mud pond, once. "

"Right up to that seventh summer, " Pilch said. "Which was the summeryour father's cousin spent her vacation on the farm with you. "

Trigger nodded. "Perhaps. I don't remember the time too well. "

"Well, " Pilch said, "she was a brilliant woman. In some ways. She wasabout the age your mother had been when she died. She was verygood-looking. And she was _nice_! She played games with a little girl, sang to her. Told her stories. Cuddled her. "

Trigger blinked. "Did she? I don't--"

"However, " said Pilch, "she did not play games with, tell stories to, cuddle, etcetera, little girls who"--her voice went suddenly thin andedged--"_come in all filthy and smelling from that dirty, slimy old mudpond!_"

Trigger looked startled. "You know, " she said, "I do believe I rememberher saying that--just that way!"

"You remember it, " said Pilch, "now. You never saw her again after thatsummer. Your father had good sense. He didn't marry her, as heapparently intended to do before he saw how she was going to be withyou. You went back to your old mud pond just once more, on your nextvacation. She wasn't there. What had you done? You waded around, feeling pretty sad. And you stepped on a sharp stick and cut your footbadly. Sort of a self-punishment. "

She flipped over a few pages of some record on her desk. "Now before youstart asking what's interesting about that, I'll run over a fewcrossed-in items. Age twelve. There's that Maccadon animal like adryland jellyfish--a mingo, isn't it?--that swallowed your kitten. "

"The mingo!" Trigger said. "I remember that. I killed it. "

"Right. You kicked it apart and pulled out the kitten, but the kittenwas dead and partly digested. You bawled all day and half the nightabout that. "

"I might have, I suppose. "

"You did. Now those are two centering points. There's other stuffconnected with them. No need to go into details. As classes--you'vestepped now and then on things that squirmed or squashed. Bad smells. Etcetera. How do you feel about plasmoids?"

Trigger wrinkled her nose. "I just think they're unpleasant things. Allexcept--"

Oops! She checked herself. 

"--Repulsive, " said Pilch. "It's quite all right about Repulsive. We'vebeen informed of that supersecret little item you're guarding. If wehadn't been told, we'd know now, of course. Go ahead. "

"Well, it's odd!" Trigger remarked thoughtfully. "I just said I thoughtplasmoids were rather unpleasant. But that's the way I used to feelabout them. I don't feel that way now. "

"Except again, " said Pilch, "for that little monstrosity on the ship. Ifit was a plasmoid. You rather suspect it was, don't you?"

Trigger nodded. "That would be pretty bad!"

"Very bad, " said Pilch. "Plasmoids generally, you feel about them now asyou feel about potatoes ... Rocks ... Neutral things like that?"

"That's about it, " Trigger said. She still looked puzzled. 

"We'll go over what seems to have changed your attitude there in aminute or so. Here's another thing--" Pilch paused a moment, then said, "Night before last, about an hour after you'd gone to bed, you had avery light touch of the same pattern of mental blankness you experiencedon that plasmoid station. "

"While I was asleep?" Trigger said, startled. 

"That's right. Comparatively very light, very brief. Five or sixminutes. Dream activity, etcetera, smooths out. Some blocking on varioussense lines. Then, normal sleep until about five minutes before you wokeup. At that point there may have been another minute touch of the samepattern. Too brief to be actually definable. A few seconds at most. Thepoint is that this is a continuing process. "

She looked at Trigger a moment. "Not particularly alarmed, are you?"

"No, " said Trigger. "It just seems very odd. " She added, "I got ratherfrightened when Commissioner Tate was first telling me what had beengoing on. "

"Yes, I know. "

20

Pilch was silent for some moments again, considering the wall-screen asif thinking about something connected with it. "Well, we'll drop thatfor now, " she said finally. "Let me tell you what's been happening thesemonths, starting with that first amnesia-covered blankout on HarvestMoon. The Maccadon Colonial School has sound basic psychology courses, so there won't be much explaining to do. The connection between thoseincidents I mentioned and your earlier feeling of disliking plasmoids isobvious, isn't it?"

Trigger nodded. 

"Good. When you got the first Service check-up at Commissioner Tate'sdemand, there was very little to go on. The amnesia didn't liftimmediately--not very unusual. The blankout might be interestingbecause of the circumstances. Otherwise the check showed you were in agood deal better than normal condition. Outside of total therapyprocesses--and I believe you know that's a long haul--there wasn't muchto be done for you, and no particular reason to do it. So anamnesia-resolving process was initiated and you were left alone for awhile. 

"Actually something already was going on at the time, but it wasn'tspotted until your next check. What it's amounted to has been arelatively minor but extremely precise and apparently purposeful therapyprocess. Your unconscious memories of those groupings of incidents I wastalking about, along with various linked groupings, have gradually beencleared up. Emotion has been drained away, fixed evaluations have faded. Associative lines have shifted. 

"Now that's nothing remarkable in itself. Any good therapist could havedone the same for you, and much more rapidly. Say in a few hours' hardwork, spread over several weeks to permit progressive assimilationwithout conscious disturbances. The _very_ interesting thing is that thisorderly little process appears to have been going on all by itself. Andthat just doesn't happen. You disturbed now?"

Trigger nodded. "A little. Mainly I'm wondering why somebody wants me tonot-dislike plasmoids. "

"So am I wondering, " said Pilch. "Somebody does, obviously. And a veryslick somebody it is. We'll find out by and by. Incidentally, thisparticular part of the business has been concluded. Apparently, somebody doesn't intend to make you wild for plasmoids. It's enough thatyou don't dislike them. "

Trigger smiled. "I can't see anyone making me wild for the things, whatever they tried!"

Pilch nodded. "Could be done, " she said. "Rather easily. You'd be bats, of course. But that's very different from a simple neutralizing processlike the one we've been discussing.... Now here's something else. Youwere pretty unhappy about this business for a while. That wasn'tsomebody's fault. That was us. I'll explain. 

"Your investigators could have interfered with the little therapyprocess in a number of ways. That wouldn't have taught them a thing, sothey didn't. But on your third check they found something else. Again itwasn't in the least obtrusive; in someone else they mightn't have givenit a second look. But it didn't fit at all with your major personalitypatterns. You wanted to stay where you were. "

"Stay where I was?"

"In the Manon System. "

"Oh!" Trigger flushed a little. "Well--"

"I know. Let's go on a moment. We had this inharmonious inclination. Sowe told Commissioner Tate to bring you to the Hub and keep you there, tosee what would happen. And on Maccadon, in just a few weeks, you'd begunworking that moderate inclination to be back in the Manon System up to adandy first-rate compulsion. "

Trigger licked her lips. "I--"

"Sure, " said Pilch. "You had to have a good sensible reason. You gaveyourself one. "

"Well!"

"Oh, you were fond of that young man, all right. Who wouldn't be?Wonderful-looking lug. I'd go for him myself--till I got him on thatcouch, that is. But that was the first time you hadn't been able tostand a couple of months away from him. It was also the first time you'dstarted worrying about competition. You now had your justification. Andwe, " Pilch said darkly, "had a fine, solid compulsion with no doubt veryrevealing ramifications to it to work on. Just one thing went wrong withthat, Trigger. You don't have the compulsion any more. "

"Oh?"

"You don't even, " said Pilch, "have the original moderate inclination. Now one might have some suspicions there! But we'll let them ride forthe moment. "

She did something on the desk. The huge wall-screen suddenly lit up. Asoft, amber-glowing plane of blankness, with a suggestion of recedingdepths within it. 

"Last night, shortly before you woke up, " Pilch said, "you had a dream. Actually you had a series of eight dreams during the night which seempertinent here. But the earlier ones were rather vague preliminarystructures. In one way and another, their content is included in thisfinal symbol grouping. Let's see what we can make of them. "

A shape appeared on the screen. 

Trigger started, then laughed. 

"What do you think of it?" Pilch asked. 

"A little green man!" she said. "Well, it could be a sort of counterpartto the little yellow thing on the ship, couldn't it? The good littledwarf and the very bad little dwarf. "

"Could be, " said Pilch. "How do you feel about the notion?"

"Good plasmoids and bad plasmoids?" Trigger shook her head. "No. Itdoesn't feel right. "

"What else feels right?" Pilch asked. 

"The farmer. The little old man who owned the farm where the mud pondwas. "

"Liked him, didn't you?"

"Very much! He knew a lot of fascinating things. " She laughed again. "You know, I'd hate to have him find out--but that little green man alsoreminds me quite a bit of Commissioner Tate. "

"I don't think he'd mind hearing it, " Pilch said. She paused a moment. "All right--what's this?"

A second shape appeared. 

"A sort of caricature of a wild, mean horse, " Trigger said. She addedthoughtfully, "there was a horse like that on that farm, too. I supposeyou know that?"

"Yes. Any thoughts about it?"

"No-o-o. Well, one. The little farmer was the only one who could handlethat horse. It was mutated horse, actually--one of the Life Bank dealsthat didn't work out so well. Enormously strong. It could workforty-eight hours at a stretch without even noticing it. But it was justa plain mean animal. "

"'Crazy-mean, '" observed Pilch, "was the dream feeling about it. "

Trigger nodded. "I remember I used to think it was crazy for that horseto want to go around kicking and biting things to pieces. Which wasabout all it really wanted to do. I imagine it was crazy, at that. "

"You weren't ever in any danger from it yourself, were you?"

Trigger laughed. "I couldn't have got anywhere near it! You should haveseen the kind of place the old farmer kept it when it wasn't working. "

"I did, " said Pilch. "Long, wide, straight-walled pit in the ground. Cover for shade, plenty of food, running water. He was a good farmer. Very high locked fence around it to keep little girls and anyone elsefrom getting too close to his useful monster. "

"Right, " said Trigger. She shook her head. "When you people look intosomebody's mind, you look!"

"We work at it, " Pilch said. "Let's see what you can do with this one. "

Trigger was silent for almost a minute before she said in a subduedvoice, "I just get what it shows. It doesn't seem to mean anything?"

"What does it show?"

"Laughing giants stamping on a farm. A tiny sort of farm. It looks likeit might be the little green man's farm. No, wait. It's not his! But itbelongs to other little green people. "

"How do you feel about that?"

"Well--I hate those giants!" Trigger said. "They're cruel. And theylaugh about being cruel. "

"Are you afraid of them?"

Trigger blinked at the screen for a few seconds. "No, " she said in alow, sleepy voice. "Not yet. "

Pilch was silent a moment. She said then, "One more. "

Trigger looked and frowned. Presently she said, "I have a feeling thatdoes mean something. But all I get is that it's the faces of two clocks. On one of them the hands are going around very fast. And on the otherthey go around slowly. "

"Yes, " Pilch said. She waited a little. "No other thought about thoseclocks? Just that they should mean something?"

Trigger shook her head. "That's all. "

Pilch's hand moved on the desk again. The wall-screen went blank, andthe light in the little room brightened slowly. Pilch's face wasreflective. 

"That will have to do for now, " she said. "Trigger, this ship is workingon an urgent job somewhere else. We'll have to go back and finish thatjob. But I'll be able to return to Manon in about ten days, and thenwe'll have another session. And I think that will get this littlemystery cleared up. "

"All of it?"

"All of it, I'd say. The whole pattern seems to be moving into view. More details will show up in the ten-day interval; and one more cautiousboost then should bring it out in full. "

Trigger nodded. "That's good news. I've been getting a little fed upwith being a kind of walking enigma. "

"Don't blame you at all, " Pilch said, sounding almost exactly likeCommissioner Tate. "Incidentally, you're a busy lady at present, but ifyou do have half an hour to spare from time to time, you might just sitdown comfortably somewhere and listen to yourself thinking. The waythings are going, that should bring quite a bit of information to view. "

Trigger looked doubtful. "Listen to myself thinking?"

"You'll find yourself getting the knack of it rather quickly, " Pilchsaid. She smiled. "Just head off in that general direction whenever youfind the time, and don't work too hard at it. Are there any questionsnow before we start back to Manon?"

Trigger studied her a moment. "There's one thing I'd like to be sureabout, " she said. "But I suppose you people have your problems withSecurity too. "

"Who doesn't?" said Pilch. "You're secure enough for me. Fire away. "

"All right, " Trigger said. "Commissioner Tate told me people like youdon't work much with individuals. "

"Not as much as we'd like to. That's true. "

"So you wouldn't have been working with me if whatever has been going onweren't somehow connected with the plasmoids. "

"Oh, yes, I would, " said Pilch. "Or old Cranadon. Someone like that. Wedo give service as required when somebody has the good sense to ask forit. But obviously, we couldn't have dropped that other job just now andcome to Manon to clear up some individual difficulty. "

"So I am involved with the plasmoid mess?"

"You're right in the middle of it, Trigger. That's definite. In justwhat way is something we should be able to determine next session. "

Pilch turned off the desk light and stood up. "I always hate to run offand leave something half finished like this, " she admitted, "but I'llhave to run anyway. The plasmoids are nowhere near the head of theFederation's problem list at present. They're just coming up mightyfast. "

When Trigger reached her office next morning, she learned that thePsychology Service ship had moved out of the Manon area within an hourafter she'd been returned to the Headquarters dome the night before. 

None of the members of the plasmoid team were around. The Commissioner, who had a poor opinion of sleep, had been up for the past three hours;he'd left word Trigger could reach him, if necessary, in the larger ofhis two ships, parked next to the dome in Precol Port. Presumably he hadthe ship sealed up and was sitting in the transmitter cabinet, swappingmessages with the I-Fleets in the Vishni area. He was likely to be atthat for hours more. Professor Mantelish hadn't yet got back from hislatest field trip, and Major Heslet Quillan just wasn't there. 

It looked, Trigger decided, not at all reluctantly, like a good day tolean into her Precol job a bit. She told the staff to pitch everythingnot utterly routine her way, and leaned. 

A set of vitally important reports from Precol's Giant Planet SurveySquad had been mislaid somewhere around Headquarters during yesterday'sconferences. She soothed down the G P Squad and instituted a checksearch. A team of Hub ecologists, who had decided for themselves thatoutworld booster shots weren't required on Manon, called in nervouslyfrom a polar station to report that their hair was falling out. Triggertapped the "Manon Fever" button on her desk, and suggested toupees. 

The ecologists were displeased. A medical emergency skip-boat zoomed outof the dome to go to their rescue; and Trigger gave it its directionswhile dialing for the medical checker who'd allowed the visitors toavoid their shots. She had a brief chat with the young man, and left himtwitching as the G P Squad came back on to inquire whether the reportshad been found yet. Trigger began to get a comfortable feeling of beingback in the good old groove. 

Then a message from the Medical Department popped out on her desk. Itwas addressed to Commissioner Tate and stated that Brule Inger was nowable to speak again. 

Trigger frowned, sighed, bit her lip and thought a moment. She dialedfor Doctor Leehaven. "Got your message, " she said. "How's he doing?"

"All right, " the old medic said. 

"Has he said anything?"

"No. He's scared. If he could get up the courage, he'd ask for apersonnel lawyer. "

"Yes, I imagine. Tell him this then--from the Commissioner; not fromme--there'll be no charges, but Precol expects his resignation, end ofthe month. "

"That on the level?" Doctor Leehaven demanded incredulously. 

"Of course. "

The doctor snorted. "You people are getting soft-headed! But I'll tellhim. "

The morning went on. Trigger was suspiciously studying a traffic controlnote stating that a Devagas missionary shop had checked in and berthedat the spaceport when the G C Center's management called in to report, with some nervousness, that the Center's much advertisedmeteor-repellent roof had just flipped several dozen tons of fallingMoon Belt material into the spaceport area. Most of it, unfortunately, had dropped around and upon a Devagas missionary ship. 

"Not damaged, is it?" she asked. 

The Center said no, but the Missionary Captain insisted on speaking tothe person in charge here. To whom should they refer him?

"Refer him to me, " Trigger said expectantly. She switched on the visionscreen. 

The Missionary Captain was a tall, gray-haired, gray-eyed, square-jawedman in uniform. After confirming to his satisfaction that Trigger wasindeed in charge, he informed her in chilled tones that the DevagasUnion would hold her personally responsible for the unprovoked outrageunless an apology was promptly forthcoming. 

Trigger apologized promptly. He acknowledged with a curt nod. 

"The ship will now require new spacepaint, " he pointed out, unmollified. 

Trigger nodded. "We'll send a work squad out immediately. "

"We, " the Missionary Captain said, "shall supervise the work. Only thebest grade of paint will be acceptable!"

"The very best only, " Trigger agreed. 

He gave her another curt nod, and switched off. 

"Ass, " she said. She cut in the don't-disturb barrier and dialedHolati's ship. 

It took a while to get through; he was probably busy somewhere in thecrate. Like Belchik Pluly, the Commissioner, while still a very wealthyman, would have been a very much wealthier one if it weren't for hishobby. In his case, the hobby was ships, of which he now owned two. Whatmade them expensive was that they had been tailor-made to theCommissioner's specifications, and his specifications had provided himwith two rather exact duplicates of the two types of Scout fightingships in which Squadron Commander Tate had made space hideous forevildoers in the good old days. Nobody as yet had got up the nerve topoint out to him that private battlecraft definitely were not allowablein the Manon System. 

He came on finally. Trigger told him about the Devagas. "Did you knowthose characters were in the area?" she asked. 

The Commissioner knew. They'd stopped in at the system check stationthree days before. The ship was clean. "Their missionaries all go armed, of course; but that's their privilege by treaty. They've been browsingaround and going hither and yon in skiffs. The ship's been in orbit tillthis morning. "

"Think they're here in connection with whatever Balmordan is up to?"Trigger inquired. 

"We'll take that for granted. Balmordan, by the way, attended a bigshindig on the Pluly yacht yesterday. Unless his tail goofed, he's stillup there, apparently staying on as a guest. "

"Are you having these other Devagas watched?"

"Not individually. Too many of them, and they're scattered all over theplace. Mantelish got back. He checked in an hour ago. "

"You mean he's upstairs in his quarters now?" she asked. 

"Right. He had a few more crates hauled into the lab, and he's lockedhimself in with them and spy-blocked the place. May have got somethingimportant, and may just be going through one of his secrecy periodsagain. We'll find out by and by. Oh, and here's a social note. The FirstLady of Tranest is shopping in the Grand Commerce Center this morning. "

"Well, that should boost business, " said Trigger. "Are you going to beback in the dome by lunchtime?"

"I think so. Might have some interesting news, too, incidentally. "

"Fine, " she said. "See you then. "

Twenty minutes later the desk transmitter gave her the "to be shielded"signal. Up went the barrier again. 

Major Quillan's face looked out at her from the screen. He was, Triggersaw, in Mantelish's lab. Mantelish stood at a work bench behind him. 

"Hi!" he said. 

"Hi, yourself. When did you get in?"

"Just now. Could you pick up the whoosis-and-whichis and bring it uphere?"

"Right now?"

"If you can, " Quillan said. "The professor's got something new, hethinks. "

"I'm on my way, " said Trigger. "Take about five minutes. "

She hurried down to her quarters, summoned Repulsive's container intothe room and slung the strap over her shoulder. 

Then she stood still a moment, frowning slightly. Something--somethinglike a wisp of memory, something she _should_ be remembering--wasstirring in the back of her mind. Then it was gone. 

Trigger shook her head. It would keep. She opened the door and steppedout into the hall. 

She fell down. 

As she fell, she tried to give the bag the send-off squeeze, but shecouldn't move her fingers. She couldn't move anything. 

There were people around her. They were doing things swiftly. She wasturned over on her back and, for a few moments then, she saw her ownface smiling down at her from just a few feet away. 

21

She was, suddenly, in a large room, well lit, with elaboratefurnishings--sitting leaned back in a soft chair before a highlypolished little table. On the opposite side of the table two people satlooking at her with expressions of mild surprise. One of them was LyadErmetyne. The other was a man she didn't know. 

The man glanced aside at Lyad. "Very fast snap-back!" he said. He lookedagain at Trigger. He was a small man with salt-and-pepper hair, a deeplylined face, beautiful liquid-black eyes. 

"Very!" Lyad said. "We must remember that. Hello, Trigger!"

"Hello, " Trigger said. Her glance went once around the room and cameback to Lyad's amiably observant face. Repulsive's container was nowherearound. There seemed to be nobody else in the room. An ornamentalComWeb stood against one wall. Two of the walls were covered with heavyhangings, and a great gold-brocaded canopy bellied from the ceiling. Nodoors or portals in sight; they might be camouflaged, or behind thosehangings. Any number of people could be in call range--and a fewcertainly must be watching her right now, because that small man was norough-and-tumble type. 

The small man was regarding her with something like restrainedamusement. 

"A cool one, " he murmured. "Very cool!"

Trigger looked at him a moment, then turned her eyes back to Lyad. Shedidn't feel cool. She felt tense and scared cold. This was probably verybad!

"What did you want to see me about?" she asked. 

Lyad smiled. "A business matter. Do you know where you are?"

"Not on your ship, First Lady. "

The light-amber eyes barely narrowed. But Lyad had become, at thatmoment, very alert. 

"Why do you think so?" she asked pleasantly. 

"This room, " said Trigger. "You don't gush, I think. What was thebusiness matter?"

"In a moment, " Lyad said. She smiled again. "Where else might you be?"

Trigger thought she could guess. But she didn't intend to. Not out loud. She shrugged. "It's no place I want to be. " She settled back a little inher chair. Her right hand brushed the porgee pouch. 

The porgee pouch. 

It would have been like the Ermetyne to investigate the pouch carefully, take out the gun and put the pouch back. But they might not have. 

Somebody was bound to be watching. She couldn't find out--not until theinstant after she decided to try the Denton. 

"I can believe that, " Lyad said. "Forgive me the discourtesy of sourgent an invitation, Trigger. A quite recent event made it seemnecessary. As to the business--as a start, this gentleman is DoctorVeetonia. He is an investigator of extraordinary talents along his line. At the moment, he is a trifle tired because of the very long hours heworked last night. "

Doctor Veetonia turned his head to look at her. "I did, First Lady?Well, that does explain this odd weariness. Did I work well?"

"Splendidly, " Lyad assured him. "You were never better, Doctor. "

He nodded, smiled vaguely and looked back at Trigger. "This must go, too, I suppose?"

"I'm afraid it must, " Lyad said. 

"A great pity!" Doctor Veetonia said. "A great pity. It would have beena pleasant memory. This very cool one!" The vague smile shifted in thelined face again. "You are so beautiful, child, " he told Trigger, "inyour anger and terror and despair. And above it still the gaugingpurpose, the strong, quick thinking. You will not give in easily. Oh, no! Not easily at all. First Lady, " Doctor Veetonia said plaintively, "Ishould like to remember this one! It should be possible, I think. "

Small, icy fingers were working up and down Trigger's spine. TheErmetyne gave her a light wink. 

"I'm afraid it isn't, Doctor, " she said. "There are such very importantmatters to be discussed. Besides, Trigger Argee and I will come to anamicable agreement very quickly. "

"No. " Doctor Veetonia's face had turned very sullen. 

"No?" said Lyad. 

"She will agree to nothing. Any fool can see that. I recommend, then, asimple chemical approach. Your creatures can handle it. Drain her. Throwher away. I will have nothing to do with the matter. "

"Oh, but Doctor!" the Ermetyne protested. "That would be so crude. Andso very uncertain. Why, we might be here for hours still!"

He shook his head. 

Lyad smiled. She stroked the lined cheek with light finger tips. "Haveyou forgotten the palace at Hamal Lake?" she asked. "The great library?The laboratories? Haven't I been very generous?"

Doctor Veetonia turned his face toward her. He smiled thoughtfully. 

"Now that is true!" he admitted. "For the moment I did forget. " Helooked back at Trigger. "The First Lady gives, " he told her, "and theFirst Lady takes away. She has given me wealth and much leisure. Shetakes from me now and then a memory. Very skillfully, since she was mypupil. But still the mind must be dim by a little each time it isdone. "

His face suddenly grew concerned. He looked at Lyad again. "Two moreyears only!" he said. "In two years I shall be free to retire, Lyad?"

Lyad nodded. "That was our bargain, Doctor. You know I keep bargains. "

Doctor Veetonia said, "Yes. You do. It is strange in an Ermetyne. Verywell! I shall do it. " He looked at Trigger's face. The black-liquid eyesblinked once or twice. "She is almost certain she is being watched, " hesaid, "but she has been thinking of using the ComWeb. The child, Ibelieve, is prepared to attack us at any opportune moment. " He smiled. "Show her first why her position is hopeless. Then we shall see. "

"Why, it's not in the least hopeless, " Lyad said. "And please feel noconcern about the Doctor, Trigger. His methods are quite painless andinvolve none of the indignities of a chemical investigation. If you areat all reasonable, we'll just sit here and talk for twenty minutes orso. Then you will tell me what sum you wish to have deposited for you inwhat bank, and you will be free to go. "

"What will we talk about?" Trigger said. 

"Well, for one, " said the Ermetyne, "there is that rather handsomelittle purse you've been carrying about lately. My technicians inform methere may be some risk of damaging its contents if they attempt to forceit open. We don't want that. So we'll talk a bit about the proper way ofopening it. " She gave Trigger her little smile. "And Doctor Veetoniawill verify the accuracy of any statements made on the matter. "

She considered. "Oh, and then I shall ask a few questions. Not many. Andyou will answer them. It really will be quite simple. But now let metell you why I so very much wanted to see you today. We had a guest herelast night. A gentleman whom you've met--Balmordan. He was mind-blockedon some quite important subjects, and so--though the doctor and I werevery patient and careful--he died in the end. But before he died, he hadtold me as much as I really needed to know from him. 

"Now with that information, " she went on, "and with the contents of yourpurse and with another little piece of information, which you possess, Ishall presently go away. On Orado, a few hours later, Tranest'sambassador will have a quiet talk with some members of the FederationCouncil. And that will be all, really. " She smiled. "No dramaticpursuit! No hue and cry! A few treaties will be considerably revised. And the whole hubbub about the plasmoids will be over. " She nodded. "Because they can be made to work, you know. And very well!"

Doctor Veetonia hadn't looked away from Trigger while Lyad was speaking. He said now, "My congratulations, First Lady! But the girl has not beenconvinced in the least that she should cooperate. She may hope to berescued before the information you want can be forced from her. "

The Ermetyne sighed. "Oh, really now, Trigger!" she very nearly pouted. "Well, if I must explain about that to you, too, I shall. "

She considered a moment. 

"Did you see your facsimile?"

Trigger nodded. "Very briefly. "

Lyad smiled. "How she and my other people passed in and out of thatdome, and how it happened that your room guards were found unconsciousand were very hurriedly taken to the medical department's contagiousward, makes an amusing little story. But it would be too long in thetelling just now. Your facsimile is one of Tranest's finest actresses. She's been studying and practicing being you for months. She knows whereto go and what to do in that dome to avoid contact with people who knowyou too intimately. If it seems that discovery is imminent, she needsonly a minute by herself to turn into an entirely different personality. So hours might pass without anyone even suspecting you were gone. 

"But on the other hand, " Lyad admitted fairly, "your double might becaught immediately or within minutes. She would not be conscious then, and I doubt your fierce little Commissioner would go to the unethicallimits of dead-braining a live woman. If he did, of course, he wouldlearn nothing from her. 

"Let's assume, nevertheless, that for one reason and another yourfriends suspect me immediately, and only me. At the time you were beingtaken from the dome, I was observed leaving the Grand Commerce Center. I'd shopped rather freely; a number of fairly large crates and so forthwere loaded into my speedboat. And we were observed returning to theAurora. "

"Not bad, " Trigger admitted. "Another facsimile, I suppose?"

"Of course. " The Ermetyne glanced at a small jeweled wrist watch. "Nowthe Aurora, if my orders were being followed, and they were, divedapproximately five minutes ago--unless somebody who might be yourwrathful rescuers approached her before that time, in which case shedived then. In either case, the dive was seen by the Commissioner'swatchers; and the proper conclusions sooner or later will be drawn fromthat. "

"Supposing they dive after her and run her down?" Trigger said. 

"They might! The Aurora is not an easy ship to run down in subspace; butthey might. After some hours. It would be of no consequence at all, would it?" The amber eyes regarded Trigger with very little expressionfor a moment. "How many hours or minutes do you think you could hold outhere, Trigger Argee, if it became necessary to put on real pressure?"

"I don't know, " Trigger admitted. She moistened her lips. 

"I could give you a rather close estimate, I think, " the Ermetyne said. "But forgive me for bringing up that matter. It was an unnecessarydiscourtesy. Let's assume instead that the rather clever people withwhom you've been working are quite clever enough to see through allthese little maneuverings. Let's assume further that they are even ableto conclude immediately where you and I must be at the moment. 

"We are, as it happens, on the Griffin, which is Belchik Pluly's outsizeyacht, and which is orbiting Manon at present. This room is on a sealedlevel of the yacht, where Belchik's private life normally goes onundisturbed. I persuaded him two days ago to clear out this section ofit for my own use. There is only one portal entry to the level, and thatentry is locked and heavily guarded at the moment. There are two portalexits. One of them opens into a special lock in which there is a smallspeedboat of mine, prepared to leave. It's a very fast boat. If therehave been faster ones built in the Hub, I haven't heard of them yet. Andit can dive directly from the lock. "

She smiled at Trigger. "You have the picture now, haven't you? If yourfriends decide to board the Griffin, they'll be able to do it withouttoo much argument. After all, we don't want to be blown up accidentally. But they'll have quite a time working their way into this level. If aboarding party is reported, we'll just all quietly go away together withno fuss or hurry. I guarantee that no one is going to trace or overtakethat boat. You see?"

"Yes, " Trigger said disconsolately, slumping back a little. Her righthand dropped to her lap. Well, she thought, last chance!

Doctor Veetonia frowned. "First--" he began. 

Trigger slapped the porgee pouch. And the Denton's soundless blastslammed the talented investigator back and over in his chair. 

"Gun, " Trigger explained unnecessarily. 

The Ermetyne's face had turned white with shock. She flicked a glancedown at the man, then looked back at Trigger. 

"There're guns on me too, I imagine, " Trigger said. "But this one goesoff very easily, First Lady! It would take hardly any jolt at all. "

Lyad nodded slightly. "They're no fools! They won't risk shooting. Don'tworry. " Her voice was careful but quite even. A tough cookie, as theCommissioner had remarked. 

"We won't bother about them at the moment, " Trigger said. "Let's standup together. "

They stood up. 

"We'll stay about five feet apart, " Trigger went on. "I don't know ifyou're the gun-grabbing type. "

The Ermetyne almost smiled. "I'm not!" she said. 

"No point in taking chances, " Trigger said. "Five feet. " She gave DoctorVeetonia a quick glance. He did look very unpleasantly dead. 

"We'll go over to that ComWeb in a moment, " she told Lyad. "I imagineyou wouldn't have left it on open circuit?"

Lyad shook her head. "Calls go through the ship's communication office. "

"Your own people on duty there?"

"No. Pluly's. "

"Will they take your orders?"

"Certainly!"

"Can they listen in?" Trigger asked. 

"Not if we seal the set here. "

Trigger nodded. "You'll do the talking, " she said. "I'll give youCommissioner Tate's personal number. Tell them to dial it. The Precoltransmitters pick up ComWeb circuits. Switch on the screen after thecall is in; he'll want to see me. When he comes on, just tell him what'shappened, where we are, what the layout is. He's to come over with asquad to get us. I won't say much, if anything. I'll just keep the gunon you. If there's any fumble, we both get it. "

"There won't be any fumble, Trigger, " Lyad said. 

"All right. Let's set up the rest of it before we move. After theCommissioner signs off, he'll be up here in three minutes flat. Or less. How about this ship's officers--do they take your orders too?"

"With the obvious exception of yourself, " Lyad said, "everyone on theGriffin takes my orders at the moment. "

"Then just tell whoever's in charge of the yacht to let the squad inbefore there's any shooting. The Commissioner can get awfullyshort-tempered. Then get the guards away from that entry portal. That'sfor their own good. "

The Ermetyne nodded. "Will do. "

"All right. That covers it, I think. "

They looked at each other for a moment. 

"With the information you got from Balmordan, " Trigger remarked, "youshould still be able to make a very good dicker with the Council, FirstLady. I understand they're very eager to get the plasmoid messstraightened out quietly. "

Lyad lifted one shoulder in a brief shrug. "Perhaps, " she said. 

"Let's move!" said Trigger. 

They walked toward the ComWeb rather edgily, not very fast, not veryslow, Trigger four or five steps behind. There had been no sound fromthe walls and no other sign of what must be very considerable excitementnearby. Trigger's spine kept tingling. A needlebeam and a good marksmancould pluck away the Denton and her hand along with it, without muchreal risk to Ermetyne. But probably even the smallest of risks was morethan the Tranest people would be willing to take when the First Lady'sperson was involved. 

Lyad reached the ComWeb and stopped. Trigger stopped too, five feetaway. "Go ahead, " she said quietly. 

Lyad turned to face her. "Let me make one last--well, call it anappeal, " she said. "Don't be an overethical fool, Trigger Argee! Thearrangement I've planned will do no harm to anybody. Come in with me, and you can write your own ticket for the rest of your life. "

"No ticket, " Trigger said. She waggled the Denton slightly. "Go ahead!You can talk to the Council later. "

Lyad shrugged resignedly, turned again and reached toward the ComWeb. 

Trigger might have relaxed just a trifle at that moment. Or perhapsthere was some other cue that Pilli could pick up. There came no soundfrom the ceiling canopy. What she caught was a sense of somethingmoving above her. Then the great golden bulk landed with a terrifyinglightness on the thick carpet between Lyad and herself. 

The eyeless nightmare head wasn't three feet from her own. 

The lights in the room went out. 

Trigger flung herself backwards, rolled six feet to one side, stood up, backed away and stopped again. 

22

The blackness in the room was complete. She spun the Denton to kill. There was silence around her and then a soft rustling at some distance. It might have been the cautious shuffle of a heavy foot over thickcarpeting. It stopped again. Where was Lyad?

Her eyes shifted about, trying to pierce the darkness. Black-light, shethought. She said, "Lyad?"

"Yes?" Lyad's voice came easily in the dark. She might be standing aboutthirty feet away, at the far end of the room. 

"Call your animal off, " Trigger said quietly. "I don't want to kill it. "She began moving in the direction from which Lyad had spoken. 

"Pilli won't hurt you, Trigger, " the Ermetyne said. "He's been sent into disarm you, that's all. Throw your gun away and he won't even touchyou. " She laughed. "Don't bother shooting in my direction either! I'mnot in the room any more. "

Trigger stopped. Not because of what that hateful, laughing voice hadsaid. But because in the dark about her a fresh, pungent smell wasgrowing. The smell of ripe apples. 

She moistened her lips. She whispered, "Pilli--keep away!" Eyeless, thedark would mean nothing to it. Seconds later, she heard the thingbreathing. 

She faced the sound. It stopped for a moment, then it came again. A slowanimal breathing. It seemed to circle slowly to her left. After a littleit stopped. Then it was coming toward her. 

She said softly, almost pleadingly, "Pilli, stop! Go back, Pilli!"

Silence. Pilli's odor lay heavily all around. Trigger heard her blooddrumming in her ears, and, for a second then, she imagined she couldfeel, like a tangible fog, the body warmth of the monster standing inthe dark before her. 

It wasn't imagination. Something like a smooth, heavy pad of rubberclosed around her right wrist and tightened terribly. 

The Denton went off, two, three, four times before she was jerkedviolently sideways, flung away, sent stumbling backward against some lowpiece of furniture and, sprawling, over it. The gun was lost. 

As she scrambled dizzily to her feet, Pilli screamed. It was a thin, high, breathless sound like the screaming of a terrified human child. Itstopped abruptly. And, as if that had been a signal, the room came fullof light again. 

Trigger blinked dazedly against the light. Virod stood before her, looking at her, a pair of opaque yellow goggles shoved up on hisforehead. Black-light glasses. The golden-haired thing lay in a greatshapeless huddle on the floor twenty feet to one side. She couldn't seeher gun. But Virod held one, pointing at her. 

Virod's other hand moved suddenly. Its palm caught the side of her facein a hefty slap. Trigger staggered dumbly sideways, got her balance andstood facing him again. She didn't even feel anger. Her cheek began toburn. 

"Stop amusing yourself, Virod!" It was Lyad's voice. Trigger saw herthen, standing in a small half-opened door across the room, where a wallhanging had been folded away. 

"She appeared to be in shock, First Lady, " Virod explained blandly. 

"Is Pilli dead?"

"Yes. I have her gun. He got it from her. " Virod slapped a pocket of hisjacket, and some part of Trigger's mind noted the gesture and suddenlycame awake. 

"So I saw. Well--too bad about Pilli. But it was necessary. Bring herhere then. And be reasonably gentle. " Lyad still sounded unruffled. "Andput that gun in a different pocket, fool, or she'll take it away fromyou. "

She looked at Trigger impersonally as Virod brought her to the littledoor, his left hand clamped on her arm just above the elbow. 

She said, "Too bad you killed my expert, Trigger! We'll have to use achemical approach now. Flam and Virod are quite good at that, but therewill be some pain. Not too much, because I'll be watching them. But itwill be rather undignified, I'm afraid. And it will take a great deallonger. "

Tanned, tall, sinuous Flam stood in the small room beyond the door. Trigger saw a long, low, plastic-covered table, clamps and glitteringgadgetry. That would have been where cold-fish Balmordan hadn't beenable to make it against his mind-blocks finally. There was still onething she could do. The yacht was orbiting. 

"That sort of thing won't be at all necessary!" she said shakily. Hervoice shook with great ease, as if it had been practicing it all along. 

"No?" Lyad said. 

"You've won, " Trigger said resignedly. "I'll play along now. I'll showyou how to open that handbag, to start with. "

Lyad nodded. "How do you open it?"

"You have to press it in the right places. Have them bring it here. I'llshow you. "

Lyad laughed. "You're a little too eager. And much too docile, Trigger!Considering what's in that handbag, it's not at all likely it willdetonate if we brightly hand it to you and let you start pressing. Butsomething or other of a very undesirable nature would certainly happen!Flam--"

The tall redhead nodded and smiled. She went over to a wall cabinet, unlocked it and took out Repulsive's container. 

Lyad said, "Put it on that shelf for the moment. Then bring me Virod'sgun, and hers. "

"I'm afraid you'll have to go up on that table now, Trigger, " she said. "If you've really decided to cooperate, it won't be too bad. And, by andby, you'll start telling us very exactly what should be done with thathandbag. And a few other things. "

She might have caught Trigger's expression then. She added drily, "I wasinformed a few nights ago that you're quite an artist inrough-and-tumble tactics. So are Virod and Flam. So if you want to giveVirod an opportunity to amuse himself a little, go right ahead!"

At that point, the graceful thing undoubtedly would have been to justsmile and get up on the table. Trigger discovered she couldn't do it. She gave them a fast, silent, vicious tussle, mouth clenched, breathinghard through her nose. It was quite insanely useless. They weren'tletting her get anywhere near Lyad. After Virod had amused himself alittle, he picked her up and plunked her down on the table. A minutelater, she was stretched out on it, face down, wrists and ankles securedwith padded clamps to its surface. 

Flam took a small knife and neatly slit the back of the Precol uniformopen along the line of her spine. She folded the cloth away. ThenTrigger felt the thin icy touches of some vanilla-smelling spray walk upher, ending at the base of her skull. 

It wasn't so very painful; Lyad had told the truth about that. Butpresently it became extremely undignified. Then her thoughts werespeeding up and slowing down and swirling around in an odd, confusingfashion. And at last her voice began to say things she didn't want it tosay. 

After this, there might have been a pause. She seemed to be floating upout of a small pool of sleep when Lyad's voice said somewhere, with coldfury in it: "There's _nothing_ inside?"

A whole little series of memory-pictures popped up suddenly then, like achain of firecrackers somebody had set off. They formed themselves intoa pattern; and there the pattern was in Trigger's mind. She looked atit. Her eyes flew open in surprise. She began to laugh weakly. 

Light footsteps came quickly over to her. "Where is that plasmoid, Trigger?"

The Ermetyne was in a fine, towering rage. She'd better say something. 

"Ask the Commissioner, " she said, mumbling a little. 

"It's wearing off, First Lady, " said Flam. "Shall I?"

Trigger's thoughts went eddying away for a moment, and she didn't hearLyad's reply. But then the vanilla smell was there again, and the thinicy touches. This time, they stopped abruptly, halfway. 

And then there was a very odd stillness all around Trigger. As ifeverybody and everything had stopped moving together. 

A deep, savage voice said, "I hope there'll be no trouble, folks. I justwant her a lot worse than you do. "

Trigger frowned in puzzlement. Next came an angry roar, some thumpingsounds, a sudden crack. 

"Oops!" the deep voice said happily. "A little too hard, I'm afraid!"

Why, of course, Trigger thought. She opened her eyes and twisted herhead around. 

"Still awake, Trigger?" Quillan asked from the door of the room. Helooked pleasantly surprised. There was a very large bellmouthed gun inhis hand. 

That was an odd-looking little group in the doorway, Trigger felt. Onhis knees before Quillan was a fat, elderly man, blinking dazedly ather. He wore a brilliantly purple bath towel knotted about his loins andnothing else. It was a moment before she recognized Belchik Pluly. OldBelchy! And on the floor before Belchy, motionless as if in devoutprostration, Virod lay on his face. Dead, no doubt. He shouldn't havegot gay with Quillan. 

"Yes, " Trigger said then, remembering Quillan's question. "I've got avery fast snap-back--but they fed me a fresh load of dope just a momentago. "

"So I saw, " said Quillan. His glance shifted beyond Trigger. 

"Lyad, " he said, almost gently. 

"Yes, Quillan?" Lyad's voice came from the other side of Trigger. Trigger turned her head toward it. Lyad and Flam both stood at the farside of the room. Their expressions were unhappy. 

"I don't like at all, " Quillan said, "what's been going on here. Notone bit! Which is why Big Boy got the neck broken finally. Can the restof us take a hint?"

"Certainly, " the Ermetyne said. 

"So the Flam girl quits ogling those guns on the shelf and stays put, orthey'll amputate a leg. First Lady, you come up to the table and getTrigger unclamped. "

Trigger realized her eyes had fallen shut again. She left them that wayfor a moment. There was motion near her, and the wrist clamps came offin turn. Lyad moved down to her feet. 

"The fancy-looking gun is Trigger's?" Quillan inquired. 

"Yes, " said Lyad. 

"Is that what happened to Pilli and the other gent out there?"

"Yes. "

"Imagine!" said Quillan thoughtfully. "Uh--got something to seal up theclothes?"

"Yes, " Lyad said. "Bring it here, Flam. "

"Toss it, Flam!" cautioned Quillan. "Remember the leg. "

Lyad's hands did things to the clothes at her back. Then they went away. 

"You can sit up now, Trigger!" Quillan's voice informed her loudly. "Sort of slide down easy off the table and see if you can stand. "

Trigger opened her eyes, twisted about, slid her legs over the edge ofthe table, came down on her feet, stood. 

"I want my gun and the handbag, " she announced. She saw them again then, on the shelf, walked over and picked up the plasmoid container. Shelooked inside, snapped it shut and slung the strap over her shoulder. She picked up the Denton, looked at its setting, spun it and turned. 

"First Lady--" she said. 

Lyad went white around the lips. Quillan made some kind of startledsound. Trigger shot. 

Flam ran at her then, screaming, arms waving, eyes wild and green likean animal's. Trigger half turned and shot again. 

She looked at Quillan. "Just stunned, " she explained. She waited. 

Quillan let his breath out slowly. "Glad to hear it!" He glanced down atPluly. "Purse was open, " he remarked significantly. 

"Uh-huh, " Trigger agreed. 

"How's the doohinkus?"

She laughed. "Safe and sound! Believe me. "

"Good, " he said. He still looked somewhat puzzled. "Put the eye onBelchy for a few seconds then. We're taking Lyad along. I'll have tocarry her now. "

"Right, " Trigger said. She felt rather jaunty at the moment. She put theeye on Belchik. Belchik moaned. 

They started out of the little room, Pluly in the van, clutching histowel. The Ermetyne, dangling loosely over Quillan's left shoulder, looked fairly gruesomely dead. "You walk this side of me, Trigger, "Quillan said. "Still all right?"

She nodded. "Yes. " Actually she wasn't quite. It was mainly a problemwith her thoughts, which showed a tendency to move along in odd littleleaps and bounds, with short stops in between, as if something weretrying to freeze them up. But if it was going to be like the first time, she should last till they got to wherever they were going. 

Halfway across the room, she saw the golden thing like a huge furry sackon the carpet and shivered. "Poor Pilli!" she said. 

"Alas!" Quillan said politely. "I gather you didn't just stun Pilli?"

She shook her head. "Couldn't, " she said. "Too big. Too fast. "

"How about the other one?"

"Oh, him. Stunned. He's an investigator. They thought he was dead, though. That's what scared Lyad and Flam. "

"Yeah, " Quillan said thoughtfully. "It would. "

Another section of wall hanging had folded aside, and a wide door stoodopen behind it. They went through the door and turned into a mirroredpassageway, Pluly still tottering rapidly ahead. "Might keep that gunready, Trigger, " Quillan warned. "We just could get jumped here. Don'tthink so, though. They'd have to get past the Commissioner. "

"Oh, he's here, too?"

She didn't hear what Quillan answered, because things faded out aroundthen. When they faded in again, the passageway with the mirrors haddisappeared, and they were coming to the top of a short flight of low, wide stairs and into a very beautiful room. This room was high andlong, not very wide. In the center was a small square swimming pool, andagainst the walls on either side was a long row of tall square crystalpillars through which strange lights undulated slowly. Trigger glancedcuriously at the nearest pillar. She stopped short. 

"Galaxy!" she said, startled. 

Quillan reached back and grabbed her arm with his gun hand. "Keepmoving, girl! That's just how Belchik keeps his harem grouped around himwhen he's working. Not too bad an idea--it does cut down the chatter. This is his office. "

"Office!" Then she saw the large business desk with prosaic standardequipment which stood on the carpet on the other side of the pool. Theymoved rapidly past the pool, Quillan still hauling at her arm. Triggerkept staring at the pillars they passed. Long-limbed, supple andlanguid, they floated in their crystal cages, in tinted, shiftinglights, eyes closed, hair drifting about their faces. 

"Awesome, isn't it?" Quillan's voice said. 

"Yes, " said Trigger. "Awesome. One in each--he is a pig! They lookdrowned. "

"He is and they aren't, " said Quillan. "Very lively girls when he letsthem out. Now around this turn and ... Oops!"

Pluly had reached the turn at the end of the row of pillars, moanedagain and fallen forwards. 

"Fainted!" Quillan said. "Well, we don't need him any more. Watch yourstep, Trigger--dead one just behind Pluly. "

Trigger stretched her stride and cleared the dead one behind Plulyneatly. There were three more dead ones lying inside the entrance to thenext big room. She went past them, feeling rather dreamy. The sight of asquat, black subtub parked squarely on the thick purple carpeting aheadof her, with its canopy up, didn't strike her as unusual. Then she sawthat the man leaning against the canopy, a gun in one hand, wasCommissioner Tate. She smiled. 

She waved her hand at him as they came up. "Hi, Holati!"

"Hi, yourself, " said the Commissioner. He asked Quillan, "How's shedoing?"

"Not bad, " Quillan said. "A bit ta-ta at the moment. Double dose ofceridim, by the smell of it. Had a little trouble here, I see. "

"A little, " the Commissioner acknowledged. "They went for their guns. "

"Very uninformed gentlemen, " said Quillan. He let Lyad's limp form slideoff his shoulder, and bent forward to lower her into the subtub's backseat. Trigger had been waiting for a chance to get into theconversation. 

"Just who, " she demanded now, frowning, "is a bit ta-ta at the moment?"

"You, " said Quillan. "You're doped, remember? You'll ride up front withthe Commissioner. Here. " He picked her up, plasmoid purse and all, andset her down on the front seat. Holati Tate, she discovered then, wasalready inside. Quillan swung down into the seat behind her. The canopysnapped shut above. 

The Commissioner shifted the tub's controls. In the screens, the roomoutside vanished. A darkness went rushing downwards past them. 

A thought suddenly popped to mind again, and Trigger burst into tears. The Commissioner glanced over at her. 

"What's the matter, Trigger girl?"

"I'm so s-sorry I killed Pilli. He s-screamed. "

Then her mind froze up with a jolt, and thinking stopped completely. Quillan reached over the back of the seat and eased her over on herside. 

"Got to her finally!" he said. He sat down again. He brooded a moment. "She shouldn't get so disturbed about that Pilli thing, " he remarkedthen. "It couldn't have lived anyway. "

"Eh?" the Commissioner said absently, watching the screens. "Why not?"

"Its brains, " Quillan explained, "were too far apart. "

The Commissioner blinked. "It's getting to you too, son!" he said. 

23

Trigger came out of the ceridim trance hours before Lyad awoke from thestunner blast she'd absorbed. The Commissioner was sitting in a chairbeside her bunk, napping. 

She looked around a moment, feeling very comfortable and secure. Thiswas her personal cabin on Commissioner Tate's ship, the one he referredto as the Big Job, modeled after the long-range patrol ships of theSpace Scouts. It wasn't actually very big, but six or seven people couldgo traveling around in it very comfortably. At the moment it appeared tobe howling through subspace at its hellish rate again, going somewhere. 

Well, that could keep. 

Trigger reached out and poked the Commissioner's knee. "Hey, Holati!"she whispered. "Wake up. "

His eyes opened. He looked at her and smiled. "Back again, eh?" he said. 

Trigger motioned at the door. "Close it, " she whispered. "Got somethingto tell you. "

"Talk away, " he said. "Quillan's piloting, the First Lady's out cold, and Mantelish got dive-sick and I doped him. Nobody else on board. "

Trigger lay back and looked at him. "This is going to sound pretty odd!"she warned him. Then she told him what Repulsive had done and what hewas trying to do. 

The Commissioner looked badly shaken. 

"You sure of that, Trigger?"

"Sure, I'm sure. "

"Trying to talk to you?"

"That's it. "

He blinked at her. "I looked in the bag, and the thing was gone. "

"Lyad knows it was gone, " Trigger said. "So in case she gets a chance toblab to someone, we'll say you had it. "

He nodded and stood up. "You stay here, " he said. "Prescription for thekind of treatment you've had is a day of bed rest. "

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go talk to that Psychology ship, " he said. "And just let'em try to stall me this time!"

He went off up the passage toward the transmitter cabinet in the forwardpart of the ship. Some minutes passed. Then Trigger suddenly heardCommissioner Tate's voice raised in great wrath. She listened. Itappeared the Psychology Service had got off on the wrong foot byadvising him once more to stay calm. 

He came back presently and sat down beside the bunk, still a little redin the face. "They're going to follow us, " he said. "If they hadn't, Iwould have turned back and gunned our way on board that lopsideddisgrace of theirs. "

"Follow us? Where?"

He grunted. "A place called Luscious. We'll be there in under a week. It'll take them about three. But they're starting immediately. "

Trigger blinked. "Looks like the plasmoids have made it to the head ofthe problem list!"

"I wouldn't be surprised, " said the Commissioner. "I was put through tothat Pilch after a while. She said to remind you to listen to yourthinking whenever you can get around to it. Know what she meant?"

"I'm not sure I do, " Trigger said hesitantly. "But she's mentioned it. I'll give it a whirl. Why are we going to Luscious?"

"Selan's Fleet found plasmoids on it. It's in the Vishni area. "

"What kind of plasmoids?"

He shrugged. "They don't amount to much, from what I heard. Small stuff. But definitely plasmoid. It looks like somebody might have done someexperimenting there for a while. And not long ago. "

"Did they find the big one?"

"Not yet. No trace of any people on Luscious either. " He chewed his lipthoughtfully for a moment. "About an hour after we picked you and Lyadup, " he said, "we had a Council Order transmitted to the ship. Told usto swing off course a bit and rendezvous with a fast courier boat oftheirs. "

"What for?"

"The order said the courier was to take Lyad on board and head for theHub with her. Some diplomatic business. " He scratched his chin. "It alsoinstructed us to treat the First Lady of Tranest with the courtesy dueto her station meanwhile. "

"Brother!" Trigger said, outraged. 

"Just too bad I couldn't read that message, " said Holati Tate. "Somegravitic disturbance! Rendezvous point's hours behind us. They'll nevercatch up. "

"Ho-ho!" said Trigger. "But that's being pretty insubordinate, Holati!"

"It was till just now, " he said. "I mentioned that we had Lyad on boardto that Pilch person. She said she'd speak to the Council. We're to hangon to Lyad and when Pilch gets to Luscious she'll interview her. "

Trigger grinned. "Now that, " she remarked, "gives me a feeling of greatsatisfaction, somehow. When Pilch gets her little mitts on someone, there isn't much left out. "

"I had that impression. Meanwhile, we'll put the Ermetyne through aroutine questioning ourselves when she gets over being groggy. Courtesywill be on the moderate side. She'll probably spill part of what sheknows, especially if you sit there and hand her the beady stare fromtime to time. "

"That, " Trigger assured him, "will be hardly an effort at all!"

"I can imagine. You're pretty sure that thing will show up again?"

Trigger nodded. "Just leave the handbag with me. "

"All right. " He stood up. "I've got a hot lunch prepared for you. I'llbring the bag along. Then you can tell me what happened after theygrabbed you. "

"How did you find out I was gone?" Trigger asked. 

"Your fac, " he said. "The girl was darn good actually. I talked toyou--her--on office transmitter once and didn't spot a sour note. Mostlyshe just kept out of everybody's way. Very slick at it! We would havegot her fairly fast because we were preparing for take-off to Lusciousby then. But she spilled it herself. "

"How?"

"I located her finally again, on transmitter screen. There was no one onher side to impress. She took a sniff of porgee. "

Trigger laughed delightedly. "Good old porgee pouch! It beat them twice. But how did you know where I was?"

"No problem there. We knew Lyad had strings on Pluly. Quillan knew aboutthat sealed level on Pluly's yacht and got Pluly to invite him over toadmire the harem right after the Dawn City arrived. While he wasadmiring, he was also recording floor patterns for a subtub jump. Thatgimmick's pretty much of a spilled secret now, but on a swap for you andLyad it was worth it. We came aboard five minutes after we'd nabbed yourfac. "

"The Ermetyne figured you'd go chasing after the Aurora, " Trigger said. 

"Well, " the Commissioner said tolerantly, "the Ermetyne's pretty young. The Aurora was a bit obvious. "

"How come Quillan didn't start wondering when I didn't show up inMantelish's lab with Repulsive?"

"So that's what he was for!" Holati said. He rubbed the side of his jaw. "I was curious about that angle! That wasn't Quillan. That was Quillan'sfac. "

"In Mantelish's lab?" Trigger said, startled. 

"Sure. That's how they all got in. In those specimen crates Mantelishhas been lugging into the dome the past couple of days. It looks likethe prof's been hypnotized up to his ears for months. "

The last five hours of her day of recuperative rest Trigger spentasleep, her cabin door locked and the plasmoid purse open on the bunkbeside her. Holati had come by just before to report that the Ermetynewas now awake but very groggy, apparently more than a little shocked, and not yet quite able to believe she was still alive. He'd dose herwith this and that, and interrogations would be postponed untileverybody was on their feet. 

When Trigger woke up from her five hour nap, the purse was shut. Sheopened it and looked inside. Repulsive was down there, quietly curledup. 

"Smart little bugger, aren't you?" she said, not entirely with approval. Then she reached in and gave him a pat. She locked the purse, gotdressed and went up to the front of the ship, carrying Repulsive along. 

All four of the others were up in the lounge area which included thepartitioned control section. The partition had been slid into the walland the Commissioner, who was at the controls at the moment, had swunghis seat half around toward the lounge. 

He glanced at the plasmoid purse as Trigger came in, grinned and gaveher a small wink. 

"Come in and sit down, " he said. "We've been waiting for you. "

Trigger sat down and looked at them. Something apparently had been goingon. Quillan's tanned face was thoughtful, perhaps a trifle amused. Mantelish looked very red and angry. His shock of white hair was wildlyrumpled. The Ermetyne appeared a bit wilted. 

"What's been going on?" Trigger asked. 

It was the wrong question. Mantelish took a deep breath and beganbellowing like a wounded thunder-ork. Trigger listened, with someadmiration. It was one of the best jobs of well-verbalized huffing she'dheard, even from the professor. He ran down in less than five minutes, though--apparently he'd already let off considerable steam. 

Lyad had dehypnotized him, at the Commissioner's suggestion. It had beena lengthy job, requiring a couple of hours, but it was a complete one. Which was understandable, since it was the First Lady herself, Triggergathered gradually from the noise, who had put Mantelish under theinfluence, back in his own garden on Maccadon, and within two weeksafter his first return from Harvest Moon. 

It was again Lyad who had given Mantelish his call to bemused duty via atransmitted verbal cue on her arrival in Manon, and instructed him toget lost from his League guards for a few hours in Manon's swamps. Thereshe had met and conferred with him and pumped him of all he could tellher. As the final outrage, she had instructed him to lug her cratedcohorts, preserved like Pluly's harem ladies, into the Precol dome--tocare for them tenderly there and at the proper cued moment to releasethem for action--all under the illusion that they were pricelessbiological specimens!

Mantelish wasn't in the least appeased by the fact that--again at theCommissioner's suggestion--Lyad had installed one minor newhypno-command which, she said, would clear up permanently his tendencytoward attacks of dive sickness. But he just ran down finally and satthere, glowering at the Ermetyne now and then. 

"Well, " the Commissioner remarked, "this might be as good a time as anyto ask a few questions. Got your little quizzer with you, Quillan?"

Quillan nodded. Lyad looked at both of them in turn and then, brieflyand for the first time, glanced in Trigger's direction. 

It wasn't exactly an appealing glance. It might have been a questioningone. And Trigger discovered suddenly that she felt just a littlesympathy for Lyad. Lyad had lost out on a very big gamble. And, each inhis own way, there were three very formidable males among whom she wassitting. None of them was friendly; two were oversized, and theundersized one had a fairly bloodchilling record for anyone on the wrongside of law and order. Trigger decided to forget about beady stares forthe moment. 

"Cheer up, Lyad!" she said. "Nobody's going to hurt you. Just give 'emthe answers!"

She got another glance. Not a grateful one, exactly. Not an ungratefulone either. Temporary support had been acknowledged. 

"Commissioner Tate has informed me, " the Ermetyne said, "that this groupdoes not recognize the principle of diplomatic immunity in my case. Under the circumstances I must accept that. And so I shall answer anyquestions I can. " She looked at the pocket quizzer Quillan was checkingover unhurriedly. "But such verification instruments are of no use inquestioning me. "

"Why not?" Quillan asked idly. 

"I've been conditioned against them, of course, " Lyad said. "I'm anErmetyne of Tranest. By the time I was twelve years old, that toy ofyours couldn't have registered a reaction from me that I didn't want itto show. "

Quillan slipped the toy back in his pocket. 

"True enough, First Lady, " he said. "And that's one small strike in yourfavor. We thought you might try to gimmick the gadget. Now we'll justpitch you some questions. A recorder's on. Don't stall on the answers. "

And he and the Commissioner started flipping out questions. The Ermetyneflipped back the answers. So far as Trigger could tell, there wasn't anystalling. Or any time for it. 

Azol: Doctor Azol had been her boy from the start. He was now onTranest. The main item in his report to her had been the significance ofthe 112-113 plasmoid unit. He'd also reported that Trigger Argee hadbecome unconscious on Harvest Moon. They'd considered the possibilitythat somebody was controlling Trigger Argee, or attempting to controlher, because of her connections with the plasmoid operations. 

Gess Fayle: Lyad had been looking for Doctor Fayle as earnestly aseveryone else after his disappearance. She had not been able to buy him. So far as she knew, nobody had been able to buy him. Doctor Fayle hadappeared to intend to work for himself. He was at present well outsidethe Hub's area of space. He still had 112-113 with him. Yes, she couldbecome more specific about the location--with the help of star maps. 

"Let's get them out, " said Commissioner Tate. 

They got them out. The Ermetyne presently circled a largish section ofthe Vishni Fleet's area. The questions began again. 

113-A: Professor Mantelish had told her of his experiments with thisplasmoid--

There was an interruption here while Mantelish huffed reflexively. Butit was very brief. The professor wanted to learn more about the FirstLady's depravities himself. 

--and its various possible associations with the main unit. But by thetime this information became available to her, 113-A had been placedunder heavy guard. Professor Mantelish had made one attempt to smuggleit out to her. 

Huff-huff!

--but had been unable to walk past the guards with it. Tranest agentshad made several unsuccessful attempts to pick up the plasmoid. She knewthat another group had made similarly unsuccessful attempts. TheDevagas. She did not yet know the specific nature of 113-A's importance. But it was important. 

Trigger: Trigger Argee might be able to tell them why Trigger wasimportant. Doctor Fayle certainly could. So could the top ranks of theDevagas hierarchy. Lyad, at the moment, could not. She did know thatTrigger Argee's importance was associated directly with that of plasmoid113-A. This information had been obtained from a Devagas operator, nowdead. Not Balmordan. The operator had been in charge of the attemptedpickup on Evalee. The much more elaborate affair at the Colonial Schoolhad been a Tranest job. A Devagas group had made attempts to interferewith it, but had been disposed of. 

Pluly: Lyad had strings on Belchik. He was afraid of the Devagas butsomewhat more terrified of her. His fear of the Devagas was due to thefact that he and an associate had provided the hierarchy with a verylarge quantity of contraband materials. The nature of the materialsindicated the Devagas were constructing a major fortified outpost on aworld either airless or with poisonous atmosphere. Pluly's associate hadsince been murdered. Pluly believed he was next in line to be silenced. 

Balmordan: Balmordan had been a rather high-ranking Devagas Intelligenceagent. Lyad had heard of him only recently. He had been in charge of theattempts to obtain 113-A. Lyad had convinced him that she would make avery dangerous competitor in the Manon area. She also had madeinformation regarding her activities there available to him. SoBalmordan and a select group of his gunmen had attended Pluly's party onPluly's yacht. They had been allowed to force their way into the sealedlevel and were there caught in a black-light trap. The gunmen had beenkilled. Balmordan had been questioned. 

The questioning revealed that the Devagas had found Doctor Fayle and the112-113 unit, almost immediately after Fayle's disappearance. They hadsucceeded in creating some working plasmoids. To go into satisfactoryoperation, they still needed 113-A. Balmordan had not known why. Butthey no longer needed Trigger Argee. Trigger Argee was now to bedestroyed at the earliest opportunity. Again Balmordan had not knownwhy. Fayle and his unit were in the fortress dome the Devagas had beenbuilding. It was in the area Lyad had indicated. It was supposed to bevery thoroughly concealed. Balmordan might or might not have known itsexact coordinates. His investigators made the inevitable slip finallyand triggered a violent mind-block reaction. Balmordan had died. Dead-braining him had produced no further relevant information. 

The little drumfire of questions ended abruptly. Trigger glanced at herwatch. It had been going on for only fifteen minutes, but she feltsomewhat dizzy by now. The Ermetyne just looked a little more wilted. 

After a minute, Commissioner Tate inquired politely whether there wasany further information the First Lady could think of to give them atthis time. 

She shook her head. No. 

Only Professor Mantelish believed her. 

But the interrogation was over, apparently. 

24

Quillan took over the ship controls, and the Commissioner and Triggerwent with the recorder into the little office back of the transmittercabinet, to slam out some fast reports to the Hub and other points. Lyadwas apologizing profoundly to Mantelish as they left the lounge. Theprofessor was huffing back at her, rather mildly. 

A little while later, Lyad, showing indications of restrained surprise, was helping Trigger prepare dinner. They took it into the lounge. Quillan remained at the controls while the others started eating. Trigger fixed up a tray and brought it to him. 

"Thanks for the rescue, Major!" she said. 

He grinned up at her. "It was a pleasure. "

Trigger glanced back at the little group in the lounge. "Think she wasfibbing a bit?"

"Sure. Mainly she'd decided in advance how much to tell and how muchnot. She thinks fast in action though! No slips. What she told of whatshe knows makes a solid story, and with angles we can check on fast. Soit's bound to have plenty of information in it. It'll do for themoment. "

"She's already started buttering up Mantelish, " said Trigger. 

"She'll do that, " Quillan said. "By the time we reach Luscious, the profprobably might as well be back in the trances. The Commissioner intendsto give her a little rope, I think. "

"How close is Luscious to that area she showed?"

Quillan flicked on their course screen and superimposed the map Lyad hadmarked. "Red dot's well inside, " he pointed out. "That bit was probablyquite solid info. " He looked up at her. "Did it bother you much to hearthe Devagas have dropped the grab idea and are out to do you in?"

Trigger shook her head. "Not really, " she said. "Wouldn't make muchdifference one way or the other, would it?"

"Very little. " He patted her hand. "Well, they're not going to get you, doll--one way _or_ the other!"

Trigger smiled. "I believe you, " she said. "Thanks. " She looked backinto the lounge again. Just at present she did have a feeling ofrelaxed, unconcerned security. It probably wasn't going to last, though. She glanced at Quillan. 

"Those computers of yours, " she said. "What did they have to say aboutthat not-catassin you squashed?"

"The crazy things claim now it was a plasmoid, " Quillan said, "Revoltingnotion! But it makes some sense for once. Checks with some of the thingsLyad just told us, too. Do you remember that Vethi sponge Balmordan wascarrying?"

"Yes. "

"It didn't come off the ship with him. He checked it out as having dieden route. "

"That is a revolting notion!" Trigger said after a moment. "Well, atleast we've got detectors now. "

But the feeling of security had faded somewhat again. 

Before dinner was half over, the long-range transmitters abruptly cameto life. For the next thirty minutes or so, messages rattled inincessantly, as assorted Headquarters here and there reacted to theErmetyne's report. The Commissioner sat in the little office and sortedover the incoming information. Trigger stayed at the transmitters, feeding it to him as it arrived. None of it affected them directly--theywere already headed for the point in space a great many other peoplewould now start heading for very soon. 

Then business dropped off again almost as suddenly as it had picked up. A half dozen low priority items straggled in, in as many minutes. Thetransmitters purred idly. Then the person-to-person buzzer sounded. 

Trigger punched the screen button. A voice pronounced the ship's dialnumber. 

"Acknowledging, " Trigger said. "Who is it?"

"Orado ComWeb Center, " said the voice. "Stand by for contact withFederation Councilman Roadgear. "

Trigger whacked the panic button. Roadgear was a NAME! "Standing by, "she said. 

Commissioner Tate came in through the door and slipped into the chairshe'd already vacated. Trigger took another seat a few feet away. Shefelt a little nervous, but she'd always wanted to see a high-powereddiplomat in action. 

The screen lit up. She recognized Roadgear from his pics. Tall, fine-looking man of the silvered sideburns type. He was in an armchairin a very plush office. 

"Congratulations, Commissioner!" he said, smiling. "I believe you'reaware by now that your latest report has set many wheels spinningrapidly!"

"I rather expected it would, " the Commissioner admitted. He also smiled. 

They pitched it back and forth a few times, very chummy. Roadgear didn'tappear to be involved in any specific way with the operations which soonwould center about Luscious. Trigger began to wonder what he was after. 

"A few of us are rather curious to know, " Roadgear said, "why you didn'tacknowledge the last Council Order sent you. "

Trigger didn't quite start nervously. 

"When was this?" asked the Commissioner. 

Roadgear smiled softly and told him. 

"Got a record here of some scrambled item that arrived about then, " theCommissioner said. "Very good of you to call me about it, Councilman. What was the order content?"

"It's dated now, as it happens, " Roadgear said. "Actually I'm callingabout another matter. The First Lady of Tranest appears to have beenvery obliging about informing you of some of her recent activities. "

The Commissioner nodded. "Yes, very obliging. "

"And in so short a time after her, ah, detainment. You must have beenvery persuasive?"

"Well, " Holati Tate said, "no more than usually. "

"Yes, " said Councilman Roadgear. "Now there's been some slight concernexpressed by some members of the Council--well, let's say they'd justlike to be reassured that the amenities one observes in dealing with ahead of state actually are being observed in this case. I'm sure theyare, of course. "

The Commissioner was silent a moment. "I was informed a while ago, " hesaid, "that full responsibility for this Head of State has been assignedto my group. Is that correct?"

The Councilman reddened very slightly. "Quite, " he said. "The officialCouncil Order should reach you in a day or so. "

"Well, then, " said the Commissioner, "I'll assure you and you can assurethe Councilmen who were feeling concerned that the amenities are beingobserved. Then everybody can relax again. Is that all right?"

"No, not quite, " Roadgear said annoyedly. "In fact, the Councilmenwould very much prefer it, Commissioner, if I were given an opportunityto speak to the First Lady directly to reassure myself on the point. "

"Well, " Commissioner Tate said, "she can't come to the transmittersright now. She's washing the dishes. "

The Councilman reddened very considerably this time. He stared at theCommissioner a moment longer. Then he said in a very soft voice, "Oh, the hell with it!" He added, "Good luck, Commissioner--you're going toneed it some time. "

The screen went blank. 

 * * * * *

The scouts of Selan's Independent Fleet, who had first looked thisplanet over and decided to call it Luscious, had selected a name, Trigger thought, which probably would stick. Because that was what itwas, at least in the area where they were camping. 

She rolled over from her side to her face and gave herself a push awayfrom the rock she'd been regarding contemplatively for the past fewminutes. Feet first, she went drifting out into a somewhat deepersection of Plasmoid Creek. 

None of it was very deep. There were pools here and there, in thestretch of the creek she usually came to, where she could stand on hertoes in the warm clear water and, arms stretched straight up, barelytickle the surface with her finger tips. But along most of the stretchthe bigger rocks weren't even submerged. 

She came sliding over the sand to another rock, turned on her back andleaned up against the rock, blinking at sun reflections along the water. Camp was a couple of hundred yards down the valley, its sounds cut offby a rise of the ground. The Commissioner's ship was there, plus a halfdozen tents, plus a sizable I-Fleet unit with lab facilities whichSelan's outfit had loaned Mantelish for the duration. There were somefifteen, twenty people in all about the camp at the moment. They knewshe was loafing around in the water up here and wouldn't disturb her. 

Strictly speaking, of course, she wasn't loafing. She was learning howto listen to herself think. She didn't feel she was getting the knack ofit too quickly; but it was coming. The best way seemed to be to let gomentally as much as possible; to wait without impatience, really tomore-or-less listen quietly within yourself, as if you were lookingaround in some strange forest, letting whatever wanted to come to viewcome, and fade again, as something else rose to view instead. The maindifficulty was with the business of relaxing mentally, which wasn't atall her natural method of approaching a problem. 

But when she could do it, information of a kind that was beginning tolook very interesting was likely to come filtering into her awareness. Whatever was at work deep in her mind--and she could give a pretty fairguess at what it was now--seemed as weak and slow as the PsychologyService people had indicated. The traces of its work were usually faintand vague. But gradually the traces were forming into some very definitepictures. 

Lazing around in the waters of Plasmoid Creek for an hour or so everymorning had turned out to be a helpful part of the process. On theflashing, all-out run to Luscious, subspace all the way, with theCommissioner and Quillan spelling each other around the clock at thecontrols, the transmitters clattering for attention every half hour, theship's housekeeping had to be handled, and somebody besides Mantelishneeded to keep a moderately beady eye on the Ermetyne, she hadn't eventhought of acting on Pilch's suggestion. 

But once they'd landed, there suddenly wasn't much to keep her busy, andshe could shift priority to listening to herself think. It was one ofthose interim periods where everything was being prepared and nothinghad got started. As a plasmoid planet, Luscious was pretty much of abust. It was true that plasmoids were here. It was also true that untilfairly recently plasmoids were being produced here. 

By the simple method of looking where they were thickest, Selan's peopleeven had located the plasmoid which had been producing the others, several days before Mantelish arrived to confirm their find. This one, by the plasmoid standards of Luscious, was a regular monster, sometwenty-five inches high; a gray, mummylike thing, dead and half rottedinside. It was the first plasmoid--with the possible exception ofwhatever had flattened itself out on Quillan's gravity mine--known tohave died. There had been very considerable excitement when it was firstdiscovered, because the description made it sound very much as if they'dfinally located 112-113. 

They hadn't. This one--if Trigger had followed Mantelishcorrectly--could be regarded as a cheap imitation of 112. And itsproductions, compared with the working plastic life of Harvest Moon, appeared to be strictly on a kindergarten level: nuts and bolts and lessthan that. To Trigger, most of the ones that had been collected lookedlike assorted bugs and worms, though one at least was the size of asmall pig. 

"No form, no pattern, " Mantelish rumbled. "Was the thing practicing? Didit attempt to construct an assistant and set it down here to test it?Well, now!" He went off again to incomprehensibilities, apparently nolonger entirely dissatisfied. "Get me 112!" he bellowed. "Then thisbusiness will be solved! Meanwhile we now at least have plasmoidmaterial to waste. We can experiment boldly! Come, Lyad, my dear. "

And Lyad followed him into the lab unit, where they went to work again, dissecting, burning, stimulating, inoculating and so forth great numbersof more or less pancake-sized subplasmoids. 

 * * * * *

This morning Trigger wasn't getting down to the best semidrowsy level atall readily. And it might very well be that Lyad-my-dear business. "Youknow, " she had told the Commissioner thoughtfully the day before, "bythe time we're done, Lyad will know more about plasmoids than anyone inthe Hub except Mantelish!"

He didn't look concerned. "Won't matter much. By the time we're done, she and the rest of the Ermetynes will have had to cough up control ofTranest. They've broken treaty with this business. "

"Oh, " Trigger said. "Does Lyad know that?"

"Sure. She also knows she's getting off easy. If she were a Federationcitizen, she'd be up for compulsory rehabilitation right now. "

"She'll try something if she gets half a chance!" Trigger warned. 

"She sure will!" the Commissioner said absently. He went on with hiswork. 

It didn't seem to be Lyad that was bothering. Trigger lay flat on herback in the shallow sand bar, arms behind her head, feeling the sun'swarmth on her closed eyelids. She watched her thoughts drifting byslowly. 

It just might be Quillan. 

Ole Major Quillan. The rescuer in time of need. The not-catassinsmasher. Quite a guy. The water murmured past her. 

On the ride out here they'd run by one another now and then, going fromjob to job. After they'd arrived, Quillan was gone three quarters of thetime, helping out in the hunt for the concealed Devagas fortress. It wasstill concealed; they hadn't yet picked up a trace. 

But every so often he made it back to camp. And every so often when hewas back in camp and didn't think she was looking, he'd be sitting therelooking at her. 

Trigger grinned happily. Ole Major Quillan--being bashful! Well now!

And that did it. She could feel herself relaxing, slipping down andaway, drifting down through her mind ... Farther ... Deeper ... Towardthe tiny voice that spoke in such a strange language and still wasbecoming daily more comprehensible. 

"Uh, say, Trigger!"

25

Trigger gasped. Her eyes flew open. She made a convulsive effort tovanish beneath the surface of the creek. Being flat on the sand as itwas, that didn't work. So she stopped splashing about and made rapidcovering-up motions here and there instead. 

"You've got a nerve!" she snapped as her breath came back. "Beat it!Fast!"

Ole bashful Quillan, standing on the bank fifteen feet above her, lookedhurt. He also looked. 

"Look!" he said plaintively. "I just came over to make sure you were allright--wild animals around! I wasn't studying the color scheme. "

"_Beat it! At once!_"

Quillan inhaled with apparent difficulty. 

"Though now it's been mentioned, " he went on, speaking rapidly andunevenly, "there _is_ all that brown and that sort of pink and that lovelywhite. " He was getting more enthusiastic by the moment; Trigger becameafraid he would fall off the bank and land in the creek beside her. "Andthe--ooh-ummh!--wet red hair and the freckles!" he rattled along, hiseyes starting out of his head. "And the lovely--"

"Quillan!" she yelled. "Please!"

Quillan checked himself. "Uh!" he said. He drew a deep breath. The wildlook faded. Sanity appeared to return. "Well, it's the truth about thosewild animals! Some sort of large, uncouth critter was observed just nowducking into the forest at the upper end of the valley!"

Trigger darted a glance along the bank. Her clothes were forty feetaway, just beside the water. 

"I'm observing some sort of large, uncouth critter right here!" she saidcoldly. "What's worse, it's observing me. Turn around!"

Quillan sighed. "You're a hard woman, Argee, " he said. But he turned. Hewas carrying a holstered gun, as a matter of fact; but he usually didthat nowadays anyway. "This thing, " he went on, "is supposed to have ahead like a bat, three feet across. It flies. "

"Very interesting, " Trigger told him. She decided he wasn't going toturn around again. "So now I'll just get into my clothes, and then--"

It came quietly out of the trees around the upper bend of the creeksixty feet away. It had a head like a bat, and was blue on top andyellow below. Its flopping wing tips barely cleared the bank on eitherside. The three-foot mouth was wide open, showing very long thin whiteteeth. It came skimming swiftly over the surface of the water towardher. 

"Quiiii-LLAN!"

 * * * * *

They walked back along the trail to camp. Trigger walked a few stepsahead, her back very straight. The worst of it had been the smug look onhis face. 

"Heel!" she observed. "Heel! Heel! Heel!"

"Now, Trigger, " Quillan said calmly behind her. "After all, it was youwho came flying up the bank and wrapped yourself around my neck. Allwet, too. "

"I was scared!" Trigger snarled. "Who wouldn't be? You certainly didn'thesitate an instant to take full advantage of the situation!"

"True, " Quillan admitted. "I'd dropped the bat. There you were. Who'dhesitate? I'm not out of my mind. "

She did two dance steps of pure rage and spun to face him. She put herhands on her hips. Quillan stopped warily. 

"Your mind!" she said. "I'd hate to have one like it. What do you thinkI am? One of Belchik's houris?"

For a man his size, he was really extremely quick. Before she couldmove, he was there, one big arm wrapped about her shoulders, pinning herarms to her sides. "Easy, Trigger!" he said softly. 

Well, others had tried to hold her like that when she didn't want to beheld. A twist, a jerk, a heave--and over and down they went. Triggerbraced herself quietly. If she was quick enough now---- She twisted, jerked, heaved. She stopped, discouraged. The situation hadn't alteredappreciably. 

She _had_ been afraid it wasn't going to work with Quillan. 

"Let go!" she said furiously, aiming a fast heel at his instep. But theinstep flicked aside. Her shoe dug into the turf of the path. The apemight even have an extra pair of eyes on his feet!

Then his free palm was cupped under her chin, tilting it carefully. Hisother eyes appeared above hers. Very close. Very dark. 

"I'll bite!" Trigger whispered fiercely. "I'll bi--mmph!

"Mmmph--grrmm!

"Grr-mm-mhm.... Hm-m-m ... Mhm!"

 * * * * *

They walked on along the trail, hand in hand. They came up over the lastlittle rise. Trigger looked down on the camp. She frowned. 

"Pretty dull!" she observed. 

"Eh?" Quillan asked, startled. 

"Not that, ape!" she said. She squeezed his hand. "Your morals aren'tgood, but dull it wasn't. I meant generally. We're just sitting here nowwaiting. Nothing seems to be happening. "

It was true, at least on the surface. There were a great number of shipsand men around and near Luscious, but they weren't in view. They wereready to jump in any direction, at any moment, but they had nothing tojump at yet. The Commissioner's transmitters hadn't signaled more thantwo or three times in the last two days. Even the short communicatorsremained mostly silent. 

"Cheer up, Doll!" Quillan said. "Something's bound to break prettysoon. "

That evening, a Devagas ship came zooming in on Luscious. 

They were prepared for it, of course. That somebody came round from timeto time to look over the local plasmoid crop was only to be expected. Asthe ship surfaced in atmosphere on the other side of the planet, fourone-man Scout fighters flashed in on it from four points of the horizon, radiation screens up. They tacked holding beams on it and bracedthemselves. A Federation destroyer appeared in the air above it. 

The Devagas ship couldn't escape. So it blew itself up. 

They were prepared for that, too. The Devagas pilot was beingdead-brained three minutes later. He didn't know a significant thingexcept the exact coordinates of an armed, subterranean Devagas dome, three days' run away. 

The Scout ships that had been hunting for the dome went howling intoward it from every direction. The more massive naval vessels of theFederation followed behind. There was no hurry for the heavies. Thecaptured Devagas ship's attempt to beam a warning to its base had beensmothered without effort. The Scouts were getting in fast enough toblock escape attempts. 

"And now we split forces, " the Commissioner said. He was the only one, Trigger thought, who didn't seem too enormously excited by it all. "Quillan, you and your group get going! They can use you there a wholelot better than we can here. "

For just a second, Quillan looked like a man being dragged violently intwo directions. He didn't look at Trigger. He asked, "Think it's wise toleave you people unguarded?"

"Quillan, " said Commissioner Tate, "that's the first time in my lifeanybody has suggested I need guarding. "

"Sorry sir, " said Quillan. 

"You mean, " Trigger said, "we're not going? We're just staying here?"

"You've got an appointment, remember?" the Commissioner said. 

Quillan and company were gone within the hour. Mantelish, Holati Tate, Lyad and Trigger stayed at camp. 

Luscious looked very lonely. 

 * * * * *

"It isn't just the king plasmoid they're hoping to catch there, " theCommissioner told Trigger. "And I wouldn't care, frankly, if the thingstayed lost the next few thousand years. But we had a very odd reportlast week. The Federation's undercover boys have been scanning theDevagas worlds and Tranest very closely of late, naturally. The reportis that there isn't the slightest evidence that a single one of the topmembers of the Devagas hierarchy has been on any of their worlds in thepast two months. "

"Oh, " she said. "They think they're out here? In that dome?"

"That's what's suspected. "

"But why?"

He scratched his chin. "If anyone knows, they haven't told me. It'sprobably nothing nice. "

Trigger pondered. "You'd think they'd use facsimiles, " she said. "LikeLyad. "

"Oh, they did, " he said. "They did. That's one of the reasons for beingpretty sure they're gone. They're nowhere near as expert at thatfacsimile business as the Tranest characters. A little study of therecordings showed the facs were just that. "

Trigger pondered again. "Did they find anything on Tranest?"

"Yes. One combat-strength squadron of those souped-up frigates of theAurora class they're allowed by treaty can't be accounted for. "

Trigger cupped her chin in her hands and looked at him. "Is that whywe've stayed on Luscious, Holati--the four of us?"

"It's one reason. That Repulsive thing of yours is another. "

"What about him?"

"I have a pretty strong feeling, " he said, "that while they'll probablyfind the hierarchy in that Devagas dome, they won't find the 112-113item there. "

"So Lyad still is gambling, " Trigger said. "And we're gambling we'll getmore out of her next play than she does. " She hesitated. "Holati--"

"Yes?"

"When did you decide it would be better if nobody ever got to see thatking plasmoid again?"

Holati Tate said, "About the time I saw the reconstruct of that yellowmonster of Balmordan's. Frankly, Trigger, there was a good deal ofdiscussion of possibilities along that line before we decided toannounce the discovery of Harvest Moon. If we could have just kept ithidden away for a couple of centuries--until there was considerably moregood sense around the Hub--we probably would have done it. But somebodywas bound to run across it sometime. And the stuff did look as if itmight be extremely valuable. So we took the chance. "

"And now you'd like to untake it?"

"If it's still possible. Half the Fed Council probably would like to seeit happen. But they don't even dare think along those lines. There couldbe a blowup that would throw Hub politics back into the kind of snarlthey haven't been in for a hundred years. If anything is done, it willhave to look as if it had been something nobody could have helped. Andthat still might be bad enough. "

"I suppose so. Holati--"

"Yes?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Or if it is, I'll ask you later. " Shestood up. "I think I'll go have my swim. "

She still went loafing in Plasmoid Creek in the mornings. The bat hadbeen identified as an innocent victim of appearances, a verymild-mannered beast dedicated to the pursuit and engulfment of hugemothlike bugs which hung around watercourses. Luscious still looked likethe safest of all possible worlds for any creature as vigorous as ahuman being. But she kept the Denton near now, just in case. 

She stretched out again in the sun-warmed water, selected a smooth rockto rest her head on, wriggled into the sand a little so the currentwouldn't shift her, and closed her eyes. She lay still, breathingslowly. Contact was coming more easily and quickly every morning. Butthe information which had begun to filter through in the last few dayswasn't at all calculated to make one happy. 

She was afraid now she was going to die in this thing. She had almostlet it slip out to Holati, which wouldn't have helped in the least. She'd have to watch that in future. 

Repulsive hadn't exactly said she would die. He'd said, "Maybe. "Repulsive was scared too. Scared badly. 

Trigger lay quiet, her thoughts, her attention drifting softly inwardand down. Creek water rippled against her cheek. 

It was all because that one clock moved so slowly. That was the thingthat couldn't be changed. Ever. 

26

Three mornings later, the emergency signal called her back to camp onthe double. 

Trigger ran over the developments of the past days in her mind as shetrotted along the path, getting dressed more or less on the way. TheDevagas dome was solidly invested by now, its transmitters blanked out. It hadn't tried to communicate with its attackers. On their part, theFed ships weren't pushing the attack. They were holding the point, waiting for the big, slow wrecking boats to arrive, which would verygently and delicately start uncovering and opening the dome, taking itapart, piece by piece. The hierarchy could surrender themselves andwhatever they were hiding in there at any point in the process. Theydidn't have a chance. Nobody and nothing had escaped. The Scouts hadswatted down a few Devagas vessels on the way in; but those had beenheaded toward the dome, not away from it. 

Perhaps the Psychology Service ship had arrived, several days ahead oftime. 

The other three weren't in camp, but the lock to the Commissioner's shipstood open. Trigger went in and found them gathered up front. TheCommissioner had swung the transmitter cabinet aside and was back there, prowling among the power leads. 

"What's wrong?" Trigger asked. 

"Transmitters went out, " he said. "Don't know why yet. Grab some toolsand help me check. "

She slipped on her work gloves, grabbed some tools and joined him. Lyadand Mantelish watched them silently. 

They found the first spots of the fungus a few minutes later. 

"Fungus!" Mantelish said, startled. He began to rumble in his pockets. "My microscope--"

"I have it. " Lyad handed it to him. She looked at him with concern. "Youdon't think--"

"It seems possible. We did come in here last night, remember? And wecame straight from the lab. "

"But we had been decontaminated, " Lyad said puzzledly. 

"Don't try to walk in here, Professor!" Trigger warned as he lumberedforward. "We might have to de-electrocute you. The Commissioner willscrape off a sample and hand it out. This stuff--if it's what you thinkit might be--is poisonous?"

"Quite harmless to life, my dear, " said the professor, bending over thepatch of greenish-gray scum the Commissioner had reached out to him. "But ruinous in delicate instruments! That's why we're so careful. "

Holati Tate glanced at Trigger. "Better look in the black box, Trig, " hesaid. 

She nodded and wormed herself farther into the innards of thetransmitters. A minute later she announced, "Full of it! And that's theone part we can't repair or replace, of course. Is it your beast, Professor?"

"It seems to be, " Mantelish said unhappily. "But we have, at least, asolvent which will remove it from the equipment. "

Trigger came sliding out from under the transmitters, the detached blackbox under one arm. "Better use it then before the stuff gets to the restof the ship. It won't help the black box. " She shook it. It tinkled. "Shot!" she said. "There went another quarter million of your credits, Commissioner. "

Mantelish and Lyad headed for the lock to get the solvent. Triggerslipped off her work gloves and turned to follow them. "Might be a whilebefore I'm back, " she said. 

The Commissioner started to say something, then nodded and climbed backinto the transmitters. After a few minutes, Mantelish came puffing inwith sprayers and cans of solvent. "It's at least fortunate you tried toput out a call just now, " he said. "It might have done incalculabledamage. "

"Doubt it, " said Holati. "A few more instruments might have gone. Likethe communicators. The main equipment is fungus-proof. How do youattach this thing?"

Mantelish showed him. 

The Commissioner thanked him. He directed a fine spray of the solventinto the black box and watched the fungus melt. "Happen to notice whereTrigger and Lyad went?" he asked. 

"Eh?" said Mantelish. He reflected. "I saw them walking down toward camptalking together as I came in, " he called. "Should I go get them?"

"Don't bother, " Holati said. "They'll be back. "

They came walking back into the ship around half an hour later. Bothfaces looked rather white and strained. 

"Lyad has something she wants to tell you, Holati, " Trigger said. "Where's Mantelish?"

"In his lab. Taking a nap, I believe. "

"That's good. We don't want him here for this. Go ahead, Lyad. Just theimportant stuff. You can give us the details after we've left. "

Three hours later, the ship was well away from Luscious, travelingsubspace, traveling fast. Trigger walked up into the control section. 

"Mantelish is still asleep, " she said. They'd fed the professor a dopeddrink to get him aboard without detailed explanation and argument abouthow much of the lab should be loaded on the ship first. "Shall I getLyad out of her cabin for the rest of the story or wait till he wakesup?"

"Better wait, " said the Commissioner. "He'll come out of it in about anhour, and he might as well hear it with us. Looks like navigating'sgoing to be a little rough for a spell anyway. "

Trigger nodded and sat down in the control next to his. After a whilehe glanced over at her. 

"How did you get her to talk?" he asked. 

"We went back into the woods a bit. I tied her over a stump and broketwo sticks across the first seat of Tranest. Got the idea from Mihulsort of, " Trigger added vaguely. "When I picked up a third stick, Lyadgot awfully anxious to keep things at just a fast conversational level. We kept it there. "

"Hm, " said the Commissioner. "You don't feel she did any lying thistime?"

"I doubt it. I tapped her one now and then, just to make sure she didn'tslow down enough to do much thinking. Besides I'd got the whole businessdown on a pocket recorder, and Lyad knew it. If she makes one more gooftill this deal is over, the recording gets released to the Hub's newsviewer outfits, yowls and all. She'd sooner lose Tranest than riskhaving that happen. She'll be good. "

"Yeah, probably, " he said thoughtfully. "About that substation--wouldyou feel more comfortable if we went after the bunch round the Devagasdome first and got us an escort for the trip?"

"Sure, " Trigger said. "But that would just about kill any chances ofdoing anything personally, wouldn't it?"

"I'm afraid so. Scout Intelligence will go along pretty far with me. Butthey couldn't go that far. We might be able to contact Quillanindividually though. He's a topnotch man in a fighter. "

"It doesn't seem to me, " Trigger said, "that we ought to run any risk ofbeing spotted till we know exactly what this thing is like. "

"Well, " said the Commissioner, "I'm with you there. We shouldn't. "

"What about Mantelish and Lyad? You can't let them know either. "

The Commissioner motioned with his head. "The rest cubicle back of thecabins. If we see a chance to do anything, we'll pop them both intoRest. I can dream up something to make that look plausible afterwards, Ithink. "

Trigger was silent a moment. Lyad had told them she'd dispatched theAurora to stand guard over a subspace station where the missing kingplasmoid presently was housed, until both she and the combat squadronfrom Tranest could arrive there. The exact location of that station hadbeen the most valuable of the bits of information she had extracted sopainstakingly from Balmordan. The coordinates were centered on theCommissioner's course screen at the moment. 

"How about that Tranest squadron?" Trigger asked. "Think Lyad might haverisked a lie, and they could get out here in time to interfere?"

"No, " said the Commissioner. "She had to have some idea of where to sendthem before starting them out of the Hub. They'll be doing fine if theymake it to the substation in another two weeks. Now the Aurora--if theystarted for Luscious right after Lyad called them last night, at bestthey can't get there any sooner than we can get to the substation. Ifigure that at four days. If they turn right around then, and startback--"

Trigger laughed. "You can bet on that!" she said. The Commissioner hadused his ship's guns to brand the substation's coordinates intwenty-mile figures into a mountain plateau above Plasmoid Creek. They'dleft much more detailed information in camp, but there was a chance itwould be overlooked in too hurried a search. 

"Then they'll show up at the substation again four or five days behindus, " the Commissioner said. "So they're no problem. But our own outfit'sfastest ships can cut across from the Devagas dome in less than threedays after their search party messages from Luscious to tell them whywe've stopped transmitting and where we've gone. Or the Psychology shipmight get to Luscious before the search party does and starttransmitting about the coordinates. "

"In any case, " said Trigger, "it's our own boys who are likely to be theproblem. "

"Yes. I'd say we _should_ have two days, give or take a few hours, afterwe get to the station to see if we can do anything useful and get itdone. Of course, somebody might come wandering into Luscious right nowand start wondering about those coordinate figures, or drop in at ourcamp and discover we're gone. But that's not very likely, after all. "

"Couldn't be helped anyway, " Trigger said. 

"No. If we knock ourselves out on this job, somebody besides Lyad'sTranest squadron and the Devagas has to know just where the station is. "He shook his head. "That Lyad! I figured she'd know how to run thetransmitters, so I gave her the chance. But I never imagined she'd be agood enough engineer to get inside them and mess them up without killingherself. "

"Lyad has her points, " Trigger said. "Too bad she grew up a rat. You hada playback attachment stuck in there then?"

"Naturally. "

"Full of the fungus, I suppose?"

"Full of it, " said the Commissioner. "Well, Lyad still lost on thatmaneuver. Much less comfortably than she might have, too. "

"I think she'd agree with you there, " Trigger said. 

Lyad's first assignment after Professor Mantelish came out of the dopewas to snap him back into trance and explain to him how he had once morebeen put under hypno control and used for her felonious ends by theFirst Lady of Tranest. They let him work off his rage while he was stillunder partial control. Then the Ermetyne woke him up. 

He stared at her coldly. 

"You are a deceitful woman, Lyad Ermetyne!" he declared. "I don't wishto see you about my labs again! At any time. Under any pretext. Is thatunderstood?"

"Yes, Professor, " Lyad said. "And I'm sorry that I believed it necessaryto--"

Mantelish snorted. "Sorry! Necessary! Just to be certain it doesn'thappen again, I shall make up a batch of antihypno pills. If I canremember the prescription. "

"I happen, " the Ermetyne ventured, "to know a very good prescription forthe purpose, Professor. If you will permit me!"

Mantelish stood up. "I'll accept no prescriptions from you!" he saidicily. He looked at Trigger as he turned to walk out of the cabin. "Ordrinks from you either, Trigger Argee!" he growled. "Who in the greatspiraling galaxy is there left to trust!"

"Sorry, Professor, " Trigger said meekly. 

In half an hour or so, he calmed down enough to join the others in thelounge, to get the final story on Gess Fayle and the missing kingplasmoid from the Ermetyne. 

Doctor Gess Fayle, Lyad reported, had died very shortly after leavingthe Manon System. And with him had died every man on board theU-League's transport ship. It might be simplest, she went on, to relatethe first series of events from the plasmoid's point of view. 

"Point of view?" Professor Mantelish interrupted. "The plasmoid hasawareness then?"

"Oh, yes. That one does. "

"Self-awareness?"

"Definitely. "

"Oho! But then--"

"Professor, " Trigger interrupted politely in turn, "may I get you adrink?"

He glared at her, growled, then grinned. "I'll shut up, " he said. Lyadwent on. 

Doctor Fayle had resumed experimentation with the 112-113 unit almost assoon as he was alone with it; and one of the first things he did was todetach the small 113 section from the main one. The point Doctor Faylehadn't adequately considered when he took this step was that 113'sfunction appeared to be that of a restraining, limiting or counteractingdevice on its vastly larger partner. The Old Galactics obviously hadbeen aware of dangerous potentialities in their more advanced creations, and had used this means of regulating them. That the method was reliablewas indicated by the fact that, in the thirty thousand years since theOld Galactics had vanished, plasmoid 112 had remained restricted to theoperations required for the maintenance of Harvest Moon. 

But it hadn't liked being restricted. 

And it had been very much aware of the possibilities offered by the newlife-forms which lately had intruded on Harvest Moon. 

The instant it found itself free, it attempted to take control of thehuman minds in its environment. 

"Mind-level control?" Mantelish exclaimed, looking startled. "Notunheard-of, of course. And we'd been considering.... But of _human_minds?"

Lyad nodded. "It can contact human minds, " she said, "though, perhapsrather fortunately, it can project that particular field effect onlywithin a quite limited radius. A little less, the Devagas found later, than five miles. "

Mantelish shook his head, frowning. He turned toward the Commissioner. "Holati, " he said emphatically, "I believe that thing could bedangerous!"

For a moment, they all looked at him. Then the Commissioner cleared histhroat. "It's a possibility, Mantelish, " he admitted. "We will give itthought later. "

"What, " Trigger asked Lyad, "killed the people on the ship?"

"The attempt to control them, " Lyad said. Doctor Fayle apparently haddied as he was leaving the laboratory with the 113 unit. The other mendied wherever they were. The ship, running subspace and pilotless, plowed headlong into the next gravitic twister and broke up. 

A Devagas ship's detectors picked up the wreckage three days later. Balmordan was on board the Devagas ship and in charge. 

The Devagas, at that time, were at least as plasmoid-hungry as anybodyelse, and knew they were not likely to see their hunger gratified forseveral decades. The wreck of a U-League ship in the Manon areadecidedly was worth investigating. 

If the big plasmoid hadn't been capable of learning from its mistakes, the Devagas investigating party also would have died. Since it could anddid learn, they lived. The searchers discovered human remains and thecrushed remnants of the 113 unit in a collapsed section of the ship. Then they discovered the big plasmoid--alive in subspace, undamaged andvery conscious of the difficulties it now faced. 

It had already initiated its first attempt to solve the difficulties. Itwas incapable of outward motion and could not change its own structure, but it was no longer alone. It had constructed a small work-plasmoidwith visual and manipulating organs, as indifferent to exposure tosubspace as its designer. When the boarding party encountered the twain, the working plasmoid apparently was attempting to perform some operationon the frozen and shriveled brain of one of the human cadavers. 

Balmordan was a scientist of no mean stature among the Devagas. He didnot understand immediately what he saw, but he realized the probableimportance of understanding it. He had the plasmoids and their lifelesshuman research object transferred to the Devagas ship and settled downto observe what they did. 

Released, the working plasmoid went back immediately to its task. Itcompleted it. Then Balmordan and, presumably, the plasmoids waited. Nothing happened. 

Finally, Balmordan investigated the dead brain. Installed in it he foundwhat appeared to be near-microscopic energy receivers of plasmoidmaterial. There was nothing to indicate what type of energy they wereto--or could--receive. 

Devagas scientists, when they happened to be of the hierarchy, alwayshad enjoyed one great advantage over most of their colleagues in theFederation. They had no difficulty in obtaining human volunteers to actas subjects for experimental work. Balmordan appointed three of hisleast valuable crew members as volunteers for the plasmoid'sexperiments. 

The first of the three died almost immediately. The plasmoid, it turnedout, lacked understanding of, among other things, the use and need ofanesthetics. Balmordan accordingly assisted obligingly in the secondoperation. He was delighted when it became apparent that his assistancewas being willingly and comprehendingly accepted. This subject did notdie immediately. But he did not regain consciousness after the plasmoiddevices had been installed; and some hours later he did die, inconvulsions. 

Number Three was more fortunate. He regained consciousness. Hecomplained of headaches and, after he had slept, of nightmares. The nextday he went into shock for a period of several hours. When he came outof it, he reported tremblingly that the big plasmoid was talking to him, though he could not understand what it said. 

There were two more test operations, both successful. In all threecases, the headaches and nightmares stopped in about a week. The firstsubject in the series was beginning to understand the plasmoid. Balmordan listened to his reports. He had his three surviving volunteersgiven very extensive physical and psychological tests. They seemed to bein fine condition. 

Balmordan now had the operation performed on himself. When he woke up, he disposed of his three predecessors. Then he devoted his fullattention to learning what the plasmoid was trying to say. In aboutthree weeks it became clear.... 

The plasmoid had established contact with human beings because itneeded their help. It needed a base like Harvest Moon from which tooperate and on which to provide for its requirements. It did not havethe understanding to permit it to construct such a base. 

So it made the Devagas a proposition. It would work for them, somewhatas it had worked for the Old Galactics, if--unlike the OldGalactics--they would work for it. 

Balmordan, newly become a person of foremost importance, transmitted theoffer to the hierarchy in the Hub. With no hesitation it was accepted, but Balmordan was warned not to bring his monster into the Hub area. Ifit was discovered on a Devagas world, the hierarchy would be faced withthe choice between another war with the Federation and submission tomore severely restrictive Federation controls. It didn't care for eitheralternative; it had lost three wars with the Federated worlds in thepast and each time had been reduced in strength. 

They contacted Vishni's Independent Fleet. Vishni's area was not too farfrom Balmordan's ship position, and the Devagas had had previousdealings with him and his men. This time they hired the I-Fleet tobecome the plasmoid's temporary caretaker. Within a few weeks it wasparked on Luscious, where it devoted itself to the minor creativeexperimentation which presently was to puzzle Professor Mantelish. 

The Devagas meanwhile toiled prodigiously to complete the constructionswhich were to be a central feature in the new alliance. On a base veryfar removed from the Hub, on a base securely anchored and concealedamong the gravitic swirlings and shiftings of a subspace turbulencearea, virtually indetectable, the monster could make a very valuablepartner. If it was discovered, the partnership could be disowned. Socould the fact that they had constructed the substation for it--initself a grave breach of Federation treaties. 

They built the substation. They built the armed subterranean observer'sdome three days' travel away from it. The plasmoid was installed in itsnew quarters. It then requested the use of the Vishni Fleet people forfurther experimentation. 

The hierarchy was glad to grant the request. It would have had to getrid of those too well informed hirelings in any case. 

Having received its experimental material, the plasmoid requested theDevagas to stay away from the substation for a while. 

27

The Devagas, said Lyad, while not too happy with their ally'sincreasingly independent attitude, were more anxious than ever to seethe alliance progress to the working stage. As an indication of itspotential usefulness, the monster had provided them with a variety ofworking plasmoid robots, built to their own specifications. 

"What kind of specifications?" Trigger inquired. 

Lyad hadn't learned in detail, but some of the robots appeared to havedemonstrated rather alarming possibilities. Those possibilities, however, were precisely what intrigued the hierarchy most. 

Mantelish smacked his lips thoughtfully and shook his head. "Not good!"he said. "Not at all good! I'm beginning to think--" He paused amoment. "Go on, Lyad. "

The hierarchy was now giving renewed consideration to a curious requestthe plasmoid had made almost as soon as Balmordan became capable ofunderstanding it. The request had been to find and destroy plasmoid113-A. 

The Ermetyne's amber eyes switched to Trigger. "Shall I?" she asked. 

Trigger nodded. 

And a specific human being. The Devagas already had established thatthis human being must be Trigger Argee. 

"_What?_" Mantelish's thick white eyebrows shot up. "113-A we canunderstand--it is afraid of being in some way brought back undercontrol. But why Trigger?"

"Because, " Lyad said carefully, "112 was aware that 113-A intended tocondition Trigger into being its interpreter. "

Professor Mantelish's jaw dropped. He swung his head toward Trigger. "Isthat true?"

She nodded. "It's true, all right. We've been working on it, but wehaven't got too far along. Tell you later. Go ahead, Lyad. "

The Devagas, naturally, hadn't acted on the king plasmoid's naivesuggestion. Whatever it feared was more than likely to be very useful tothem. Instead they made preparations to bring both 113-A and TriggerArgee into their possession. They would then have a new, strongbargaining point in their dealings with their dubious partner. But theydiscovered promptly that neither Trigger nor 113-A were at all easy tocome by. 

Balmordan now suggested a modification of tactics. The hierarchy hadseen to it that a number of interpreters were available for 112;Balmordan in consequence had lost much of his early importance and wasanxious to regain it. His proposal was that all efforts should bedirected at obtaining 113-A. Once it was obtained, he himself wouldvolunteer to become its first interpreter. Trigger Argee, because of theinformation she might reveal to others, should be destroyed--a farsimpler operation than attempting to take her alive. 

This was agreed to; and Balmordan was authorized to carry out bothoperations. 

Mantelish had begun shaking his head again. "No!" he said suddenly andloudly. He looked at Lyad, then at Trigger. "Trigger!" he said. 

"Yes?" said Trigger. 

"Take that deceitful woman to her cabin, " Mantelish ordered. "Lock herup. I have something to say to the Commissioner. "

Trigger arose. "All right, " she said. "Come on, Lyad. "

The two of them left the lounge. Mantelish stood up and went over to theCommissioner. He grasped the Commissioner's jacket lapels. 

"Holati, old friend!" he began emotionally. 

"What is it, old friend?" the Commissioner inquired. 

"What I have to say, " Mantelish rumbled, "will shock you. Profoundly. "

"No!" exclaimed the Commissioner. 

"Yes, " said Mantelish. "That plasmoid 112--it has, of course, an almostinestimable potential value to civilization. "

"Of course, " the Commissioner agreed. 

"But it also, " said Mantelish, "represents a quite intolerable threat tocivilization. "

"Mantelish!" cried the Commissioner. 

"It does. You don't comprehend these matters as I do. Holati, thatplasmoid must be destroyed! Secretly, if possible. And by us!"

"Mantelish!" gasped the Commissioner. "You can't be serious!"

"I am. "

"Well, " said Commissioner Tate, "sit down. I'm open to suggestions. "Space-armor drill hadn't been featured much in the Colonial School'scrowded curriculum. But the Commissioner broke out one of the ship's twoheavy-duty suits; and when Trigger wasn't at the controls, eating, sleeping, or taking care of the ship's housekeeping with Lyad andMantelish, she drilled. 

She wasn't at the controls too often. When she was, they had to surfaceand proceed in normal space. But Lyad, not too surprisingly, turned outto be a qualified subspace pilot. Even less surprisingly, she alreadyhad made a careful study of the ship's controls. After a few hours ofinstruction, she went on shift with the Commissioner along the lessrugged stretches. In this area, none of the stretches were smooth. 

When not on duty, Lyad lay on her bunk and brooded. 

Mantelish tried to be useful. 

Repulsive might have been brooding too. He didn't make himselfnoticeable. 

Time passed. The stretches got rougher. The last ten hours, theCommissioner didn't stir out of the control seat. Lyad had been lockedin her cabin again as the critical period approached. In normal space, the substation should have been in clear detector range by now. Here, the detectors gave occasional blurry, uncertain indications thatsomewhere in the swirling energies about them might be something moresolidly material. It was like creeping through jungle thickets towardsthe point where a dangerous quarry lurked. 

They eased down on the coordinate points. They came sliding out betweentwo monstrous twisters. The detectors leaped to life. 

"Ship!" said the Commissioner. He swore. "Frigate class, " he said aninstant later. He turned his head toward Trigger. "Get Lyad! They're incommunication range. We'll let her communicate. "

Trigger, heart hammering, ran to get Lyad. The Commissioner had theshort-range communicator on when they came hurrying back to the controlroom together. 

"That the Aurora?" he asked. 

Lyad glanced at the outline in the detectors. "It is!" Her face wentwhite. 

"Talk to 'em, " he ordered. "Know their call number?"

"Of course, " Lyad sat down at the communicator. Her hands shook for amoment, then steadied. "What am I to say?"

"Just find out what's happened, to start with. Why they're still here. Then we'll improvise. Get them to come to the screen if you can. "

Lyad's fingers flew over the tabs. The communicator signaled contact. 

Lyad said evenly, "Come in, Aurora! This is the Ermetyne. "

There was a pause, a rather unaccountably long pause, Trigger thought. Then a voice said, "Yes, First Lady?"

Lyad's eyes widened for an instant. "Come in on visual, Captain!" Therewas the snap of command in the words. 

Again a pause. Then suddenly the communicator was looking into theAurora's control room. A brown-bearded, rather lumpy-faced man inuniform sat before the other screen. There were other uniformed menbehind him. Trigger heard the Ermetyne's breath suck in and turned towatch Lyad's face. 

"Why haven't you carried out your instructions, Captain?" The voice wasstill even. 

"There was a difficulty with the engines, First Lady. "

Lyad nodded. "Very well. Stand by for new instructions. "

She switched off the communicator. She twisted around toward theCommissioner. "Get us out of here!" she said, chalk-faced. "_Fast!_Those aren't my men. "

Flame bellowed about them in subspace. The Commissioner's hand slapped abutton. The flame vanished and stars shone all around. The engineshurled them forward. Twelve seconds later, they angled and dived again. Subspace reappeared. 

"Guess you were right!" the Commissioner said. He idled the engines andscratched his chin. "But what were they?"

 * * * * *

"Everything about it was wrong!" Lyad was saying presently, her facestill white. "Their faces, in particular, were deformed!" She looked atTrigger. "You saw it?"

Trigger nodded. She suspected she was on the white-faced side herself. "The captain, " she said. "I didn't look at the others. It looked as ifhis cheeks and forehead were pushed out of shape!"

There was a short silence. "Well, " said the Commissioner, "seems likethat plasmoid has been doing some more experimenting. Question is, howdid it get to them?"

They didn't find any answers to that. Lyad insisted the Aurora had beengiven specific orders to avoid the immediate vicinity of the substation. Its only purpose there was to observe and report on anything that seemedto be going on in the area. She couldn't imagine her crew disobeying theorders. 

"That mind-level control business, " Trigger said finally. "Maybe _it_found a way of going out to _them_. "

She could see by their faces that the idea had occurred, and that theydidn't like it. Well, neither did she. 

They pitched a few more ideas around. None of them seemed helpful. 

"Unless we just want to hightail it, " the Commissioner said finally, "about the only thing we can do is go back and slug it out with thefrigate first. We can't risk snooping around the station while she'sthere and likely to start pounding on our backs any second. "

Mantelish looked startled. "Holati, " he cautioned, "That's a warship!"

"Mantelish, " the Commissioner said, a trifle coldly, "what you've beenriding in isn't a canoe. " He glanced at Lyad. "I suppose you'd feelhappier if you weren't locked up in your cabin during the ruckus?"

Lyad gave him a strained smile. "Commissioner, " she said, "You're soright!"

"Then keep your seat, " he said. "We'll start prowling. "

They prowled. It took an hour to recontact the Aurora, presumablybecause the Aurora was also prowling for them. Suddenly the detectorscame alive. 

The ship's guns went off at once. Then subspace went careening crazilypast in the screens. Trigger looked at the screens for a few seconds, gulped and started studying the floor. 

Whatever the plasmoid had done to the frigate's crew, they appeared tohave lost none of their ability to give battle. It was a very briskaffair. But neither had the onetime Squadron Commander Tate lost much ofhis talent along those lines. The frigate had many more guns but nobetter range. And he had the faster ship. Four minutes after the firstshots were exchanged, the Aurora blew up. 

The ripped hunk of the Aurora's hull which the Commissioner presentlybrought into the lock appeared to have had three approximatelyquarter-inch holes driven at a slant through it, which subsequently hadbeen plugged again. The plugging material was plasmoid in character. 

"There were two holes in another piece, " the Commissioner said, verythoughtfully. "If that's the average, she was punched in a few thousandspots. Let's go have a better look. "

He and Mantelish maneuvered the gravity crane carrying the holed slab ofsteel-alloy into the ship's workshop. Lyad was locked back into hercabin, and Trigger went on guard in the control room and looked outwistfully at the stars of normal space. 

Half an hour later, the two men came up the passage and joined her. Theyappeared preoccupied. 

"It's an unpleasant picture, Trigger girl, " the Commissioner said. "Those holes look sort of chewed through. Whatever did the chewing wasalso apparently capable of sealing up the portion behind it as it wentalong. What it did to the men when it got inside we don't know. Mantelish feels we might compare it roughly to the effects of ordinarygerm invasion. It doesn't really matter. It fixed them. "

"Mighty large germs!" Trigger said. "Why didn't their meteor reflectorsstop them?"

"If the ship was hove to and these things just drifted in gradually--"

"Oh, I see. That wouldn't activate the reflectors. Then, if we keepmoving ourselves--"

"That, " said the Commissioner, "was what I had in mind. "

28

Trigger couldn't keep from staring at the subspace station. It wasunbelievable. 

One could still tell that the human construction gangs had put up astandard type of armored station down there. A very big, very massiveone, but normally shaped, nearly spherical. One could tell it only bythe fact that at the gun pits the original material still showedthrough. Everywhere else it had vanished under great black masses ofmaterial which the plasmoids had added to the station's structure. 

All over that black, lumpy, lavalike surface the plasmoids crawled, walked, soared and wriggled. There were thousands of them, perhapshundreds of different types. It looked like a wet, black, rotten stumpswarming with life inside and out. 

Neither she nor the two men had made much mention of its appearance. Allyou could say was that it was horrible. 

The plasmoids they could see ignored the ship. They also gave nonoticeable attention to the eight space flares the Commissioner had setin a rough cube about the station. But for the first two hours aftertheir arrival, the ship's meteor reflectors remained active. Anoccasional tap at first, then an almost continuous pecking, finally atwenty-minute drumfire that filled the reflector screens with madlydancing clouds of tiny sparks. Suddenly it ended. Either the kingplasmoid had exhausted its supply of that particular weapon or itpreferred to conserve what it had left. 

"Might test their guns, " the Commissioner muttered. He looked veryunhappy, Trigger thought. 

He circled off, put on speed, came back and flicked the ship past thestation's flank. He drew bursts from two pits with a promptness whichconfirmed what already had been almost a certainty--that the guninstallations operated automatically. They seemed remarkably feebleweapons for a station of that size. The Devagas apparently had had senseenough not to give the plasmoid every advantage. 

The Commissioner plunked a test shot next into one of the blackprotuberances. A small fiery crater appeared. It darkened quickly again. Out of the biggest opening, down near what would have been the foot ofthe stump if it had been a stump, something, long, red and wormlikewriggled rapidly. It flowed up over the structure's surface to thedamaged point and thrust the tip of its front end into the crater. Blackmaterial began to flow from the tip. The plasmoid moved its front endback and forth across the damaged area. Others of the same kind came outand joined it. The crater began to fill out. 

They hauled away a little and surfaced. Normal space looked clean, beautiful, homelike, calmly shining. None of them except Lyad had sleptfor over twenty hours. "What do you think?" the Commissioner asked. 

They discussed what they had seen in subdued voices. Nobody had a plan. They agreed that one thing they could be sure of was that the VishniFleet people and any other human beings who might have been on thestation when it was turned over to the king plasmoid were no longeralive. Unless, of course, something had been done to them much moredrastic than had happened to the Aurora's crew. The ship had passed bythe biggest opening, like a low wide black mouth, close enough to makeout that it extended far back into the original station's interior. Thestation was open and airless as Harvest Moon had been before the humansgot there. 

"Some of those things down there, " the Commissioner said, "hadattachments that would crack any suit wide open. A lot of them are big, and a lot of them are fast. Once we were inside, we'd have nomaneuverability to speak of. If the termites didn't get to us before wegot inside. Suits won't do it here. " He was a gambler, and a gamblerdoesn't buck impossible odds. 

"What could you do with the guns?" Trigger asked. 

"Not too much. They're not meant to take down a fortress. Scratchingaround on the surface with them would just mark the thing up. We canwiden that opening by quite a bit, and once it's widened, I can flip inthe bomb. But it would be just blind luck if we nailed the one we'reafter that way. With a dozen bombs we could break up the station. But wedon't have them. "

They nodded thoughtfully. 

"The worst part of that, " he went on, "is that it would be completelyobvious. The Council's right when it worries about fumbles here. Tranestand the Devagas know the thing is in there. If the Federation can'tproduce it, both those outfits have the Council over a barrel. Or wecould be setting the Hub up for fifty years of fighting among the memberworlds, sometime in the next few hours. "

Mantelish and Trigger nodded again. More thoughtfully. 

"Nevertheless--" Mantelish began suddenly. He checked himself. 

"Well, you're right, " the Commissioner said. "That stuff down there justcan't be turned loose, that's all! The thing's still only experimenting. We don't know what it's going to wind up with. So I guess we'll betrying the guns and the bomb finally, and then see what else we cando.... Now look, we've got--what is it?--nine or ten hours left. Thefirst of the boys are pretty sure to come helling in around then. Ormaybe something's happened we don't know about, and they'll be here inthirty minutes. We can't tell. But I'm in favor of knocking off now andjust grabbing a couple of hours' sleep. Then we'll get our brainstogether again. Maybe by then somebody has come up with something likean idea. What do you say?"

"Where, " Mantelish said, "is the ship going to be while we're sleeping?"

"Subspace, " said the Commissioner. He saw their expressions. "Don'tworry! I'll put her on a wide orbit and I'll stick out every alarm onboard. I'll also sleep in the control chair. But in case somebody getshere early, we've got to be around to tell them about that space termitetrick. "

 * * * * *

Trigger hadn't expected she would be able to sleep, not where they were. But afterwards she couldn't even remember getting stretched out all theway on the bunk. 

She woke up less than an hour later, feeling very uncomfortable. Repulsive had been talking to her. 

She sat up and looked around the dark cabin with frightened eyes. Aftera moment, she got out of the bunk and went up the passage toward thelounge and the control section. 

Holati Tate was lying slumped back in his chair, eyes closed, breathingslowly and evenly. Trigger put out a hand to touch his shoulder andthen drew it back. She glanced up for a moment at the plasmoid stationin the screen, seeming to turn slowly as they went orbiting by it. Shenoticed that one of the space flares they'd planted there had gone out, or else it had been plucked away by a passing twister's touch. Shelooked away quickly again, turned and went restlessly back through thelounge, and up the passage, toward the cabins. She went by the two suitsof space armor at the lock without looking at them. She opened the doorto Mantelish's cabin and looked inside. The professor lay sprawledacross the bunk in his clothes, breathing slowly and regularly. 

Trigger closed his door again. Lyad might be wakeful, she thought. Shecrossed the passage and unlocked the door to the Ermetyne's cabin. Thelights in the cabin were on, but Lyad also lay there placidly asleep, her face relaxed and young looking. 

Trigger put her fist to her mouth and bit down hard on her knuckles fora moment. She frowned intensely at nothing. Then she closed and lockedthe cabin door, went back up the passage and into the control room. Shesat down before the communicator, glanced up once more at the plasmoidstation in the screen, got up restlessly and went over to theCommissioner's chair. She stood there, looking down at him. TheCommissioner slept on. 

Then Repulsive said it again. 

"No!" Trigger whispered fiercely. "I won't! I can't! You can't make medo it!"

There was a stillness then, In the stillness, it was made very clearthat nobody intended to make her do anything. 

And then the stillness just waited. 

She cried a little. 

So this was it. 

"All right, " she said. 

 * * * * *

The armor suit's triple light-beam blazed into the wide, low, black, wet-looking mouth rushing toward her. It was much bigger than she hadthought when looking at it from the ship. Far behind her, the fireneedles of the single gun pit which her passage to the station hadaroused still slashed mindlessly about. They weren't geared to stopsuits, and they hadn't come anywhere near her. But the plasmoids lookedgeared to stop suits. 

They were swarming in clusters in the black mouth like maggots in arotting skull. Part of the swarms had spilled out over the lips of themouth, clinging, crawling, rippling swiftly about. Trigger shifted theflight controls with the fingers of one hand, dropping a little, thenstraightening again. She might be coming in too fast. But she had to getpast that mass at the opening. 

Then the black mouth suddenly yawned wide before her. Her left handpressed the gun handle. Twin blasts stabbed ahead, blinding white, struck the churning masses, blazed over them. They burned, scattered, exploded, and rolled back, burning and exploding, in a double wave tomeet her. 

"Too fast!" Repulsive said anxiously. "Much too fast!"

She knew it. But she couldn't have forced herself to do it slowly. Thearmor suit slammed at a slant into a piled, writhing, burning hardnessof plasmoid bodies, bounced upward. She went over and over, yanking downall the way on the flight controls. She closed her eyes for a moment. 

When she opened them again, the suit hung poised a little above blackuneven flooring, turned back half toward the entrance mouth. A blackceiling was less than twenty feet above her head. 

The plasmoids were there. The suit's light beams played over the massed, moving ranks: squat bodies and sinuous ones, immensities that scrapedthe ceiling, stalked limbs and gaping nutcracker jaws, blurs of motionher eyes couldn't step down to define into shapes. Some still blazedwith her guns' white fire. The closest were thirty feet away. 

They stayed there. They didn't come any closer. 

She swung the suit slowly away from the entrance. The ring was closedall about her. But it wasn't tightening. 

Repulsive had thought he could do it. 

She asked in her mind, "Which way?"

She got a feeling of direction, turned the suit a little more andstarted it gliding forward. The ranks ahead didn't give way, but theywent down. Those that could go down. Some weren't built for it. The suitbumped up gently against one huge bulk, and a six-inch pale blue eyelooked at her for a moment as she went circling around it. "Eyes forwhat?" somebody in the back of her mind wondered briefly. She glancedinto the suit's rear view screen and saw that the ones who had gone downwere getting up again, mixed with the ones who came crowding after her. Thirty feet away!

Repulsive was doing it. 

So far there weren't any guns. If they hit guns, that would be her joband the suit's. The king plasmoid should be regretting by now that ithad wasted its experimental human material. Though it mightn't have beenreally wasted; it might be incorporated in the stuff that came crowdingafter her, and kept going down ahead. 

Black ceiling, black floor seemed to stretch on endlessly. She kept thesuit moving slowly along. At last the beams picked up low walls ahead, converging at the point toward which the suit was gliding. At the pointof convergence there seemed to be a narrow passage. 

Plasmoid bodies were wedged into it. 

 * * * * *

The suit pulled them out one by one, its steel grippers clamping downupon things no softer than itself. But it had power to work with andthey didn't, at the moment. Behind the ones it pulled out there werepresently glimpses of the swiftly weaving motion of giant redworm-shapes sealing up the passage. After a while, they stopped weavingeach time the suit returned and started again as it withdrew, draggingout another plasmoid body. 

Then the suit went gliding over a stilled tangle of red worm bodies. Andthere was the sealed end of the passage. 

The stuff was still soft. The guns blazed, bit into it, ate it away, their brilliance washing back over the suit. The sealing gave way beforethe suit did. They went through and came out into.... 

She didn't know what they had come out into. It was like a fog ofdarkness, growing thicker as they went sliding forward. The light beamsseemed to be dimming. Then they quietly went out as if they'd switchedthemselves off. 

In blackness, she fingered the light controls and knew they weren'tswitched off. 

"Repulsive!" she cried in her mind. 

Repulsive couldn't help with the blackness. She got the feeling ofdirection. The blackness seemed to be soaking behind her eyes. She heldthe speed throttle steady in fingers slippery with sweat, and that wasthe only way she could tell they were still moving forward. 

After a while, they bumped gently against something that had to be awall, it was so big, though at first she wasn't sure it was a wall. Theymoved along it for a time, then came to the end of it and were moving inthe right direction again. 

They seemed to be in a passage now, a rather narrow one. They touchedwalls and ceiling from time to time. She thought they were movingdownward. 

There was a picture in front of her. She realized suddenly that she hadbeen watching it for some time. But it wasn't until this moment that shebecame really aware of it. 

The beast was big, strong and angry. It bellowed and screamed, shakingand covered with foam. She couldn't see it too clearly, but she had theimpression of mad, staring eyes and a terrible lust to crush anddestroy. 

But something was holding it. Something held it quietly and firmly, forall its plunging. It reared once more now, a gross, lumbering hugeness, and came crashing down to its knees. Then it went over on its side. 

The suit's beams flashed on. Trigger squeezed her eyes tight shut, blinded by the light that flashed back from black walls all around. Thenher fingers remembered the right drill and dimmed the lights. She openedher eyes again and stared for a long moment at the great graymummy-shape before one of the black walls. 

"Repulsive?" she asked in her mind. 

Repulsive didn't answer. The suit hung quietly in the huge blackchamber. She didn't remember having stopped it. She turned it nowslowly. There were eight or nine passages leading out of here, throughwalls, ceiling, floor. 

"Repulsive!" she cried plaintively. 

Silence. 

She glanced once more at the king plasmoid against the wall. It stayedsilent too. And it was as if the two silences cancelled each other out. 

She remembered the last feeling of moving downward and lifted the suittoward a passage that came in through the ceiling. She hung before it, considering. Far up and back in its darkness, a bright light suddenlyblazed, vanished, and blazed again. Something was coming down thepassage, fast.... 

Her hand started for the gun handle. Then it remembered another drilland flashed to the suit's communicator. A voice crashed in around her. 

"Trigger, Trigger, Trigger!" it sobbed. 

"Ape!" she screamed. "You aren't hurt?"

29

Mantelish's garden in the highland south of Ceyce had a certain renownall over the Hub. It had been donated to the professor twenty-five yearsago by the populace of another Federation world. That populace hadnegligently permitted a hideous pestilence of some kind to be imported, and had been saved in the nick of time by the appropriatepestilence-killer, hastily developed and forwarded to it by Mantelish. In return, a lifetime ambition had been fulfilled for him--his ownprivate botanical garden plus an unlimited fund for stocking and upkeep. 

To one side of the big garden house, where Mantelish stayed whenever hefound the time to go puttering around among his specimens, stood a giantsequoia, generally reputed to be the oldest living thing in the Huboutside of the Life Banks. It was certainly extremely old, even for asequoia. For the last decade there had been considerable talk about theadvisability of removing it before it collapsed and crushed the houseand everyone in it. But it was one of the professor's great favorites, and so far he had vetoed the suggestion. 

Elbows propped on the broad white balustrade of the porch before herthird-story bedroom, Trigger was studying the sequoia's crown with apair of field glasses when Pilch arrived. She laid the glasses down andinvited her guest to pull up a chair and help her admire the view. 

They admired the view for a little in silence. "It certainly is abeautiful place!" Pilch said then. She glanced down at ProfessorMantelish, a couple of hundred yards from the house, dressed in a pairof tanned shorts and busily grubbing away with a spade around some newsort of shrub he'd just planted, and smiled. "I took the firstopportunity I've had to come see you, " she said. 

Trigger looked at her and laughed. "I thought you might. You weren'tsatisfied with the reports then?"

Pilch said, "Of course not! But it was obvious the emergency was over, so I was whisked away to something else. " She frowned slightly. "Sometimes, " she admitted, "the Service keeps me the least bit busierthan I'd prefer to be. So now it's been six months!"

"I would have come in for another interview if you'd called me, " Triggersaid. 

"I know, " said Pilch. "But that would have made it official. I can keepthis visit off the record. " Her eyes met Trigger's for a moment. "And Ihave a feeling I will. Also, of course, I'm not pushing for any answersyou mightn't care to give. "

"Just push away, " Trigger said agreeably. 

"Well, we got the Commissioner's call from his ship. A worried man hewas. So it seems now that we've had one of the Old Galactics around fora while. When did you first find out about it?"

"On the morning after our interview. Right after I got up. "

"How?"

Trigger laughed. "I watch my weight. When I noticed I'd turned three anda half pounds heavier overnight than I'd averaged the past four years, Iknew all right!"

Pilch smiled faintly. "You weren't alarmed at all?"

"No. I guess I'd been prepared just enough by that time. But then, youknow, I forgot all about it again until Lyad and Flam opened thatpurse--and he wasn't inside. Then I remembered, and after that I didn'tforget again. "

"No. Of course. " Pilch's slim fingers tapped the surface of the tablebetween them. She said then, paying Repulsive the highest complimentPilch could give, "It--he--was a good therapist!" After a moment, sheadded. "I had a talk with Commissioner Tate an hour or so ago. He'spreparing to leave Maccadon again, I understand. "

"That's right. He's been organizing that big exploration trip ofMantelish's the past couple of months. He'll be in charge of it whenthey take off. "

"You're not going along?" Pilch asked. 

Trigger shook her head. "Not this time. Ape and I--Captain Quillan andI, that is--"

"I heard, " Pilch said. She smiled. "You picked a good one on the secondtry!"

"Quillan's all right, " Trigger agreed. "If you watch him a little. "

"Anyway, " said Pilch, "Commissioner Tate seems to be just the least bitworried about you still. "

Trigger put a finger to her temple and made a small circling motion. "Abit ta-ta?"

"Not exactly that, perhaps. But it seems, " said Pilch, "that you've toldhim a good deal about the history of the Old Galactics, including whatended them as a race thirty-two thousand years ago. "

Trigger's face clouded a little. "Yes, " she said. She sat silent for amoment. "Well, I got that from Repulsive somewhere along the line, " shesaid then. "It didn't really come clear until some time after we'd gotback. But it was there in those pictures in the interview. "

"The giants stamping on the farm?"

Trigger nodded. "And the fast clock and the slow one. He was trying totell it then. The Jesters--that's the giants--they're fast and toughlike us. Apparently, " Trigger said thoughtfully, "they're a good deallike us in a lot of ways. But worse. Much worse! And the Old Galacticswere just slow. They thought slow; they moved slow--they did almosteverything slow. At full gallop, old Repulsive couldn't have kept upwith a healthy snail. Besides, they just liked to grow things and tinkerwith things and so on. They didn't go in for fighting, and they nevergot to be at all good at it. So they just got wiped out, practically. "

"The Jesters were good at fighting, eh?"

Trigger nodded. "Very good. Like us, again. "

"Where did they come from?"

"Repulsive thought they were outsiders. He wasn't sure. He and thatother O. G. Were on the sidelines, running their protein collectingstation, when the Jesters arrived; and it was all over and they weregone before he had learned much about it. "

"From outside the galaxy!" Pilch said thoughtfully. She cleared herthroat. "What's this business about they might be back again?"

"Well, " Trigger said, "he thought they might be. Just might. Actually hebelieved the Jesters got wiped out too. "

"Eh?" Pilch said. "How's that?"

"Quite a lot of the Old Galactics went along with them like Repulsivewent along with me. And one of the things they did know, " Trigger said, "was how to spread diseases like nobody's business. About like we useweed-killers. Wholesale. They could clean out the average planet of anyparticular thing they didn't want there in about a week. So it's notreally too likely the Jesters will be back. "

"Oh!" said Pilch. 

"But if they are coming, Repulsive thought they'd be due in this areain about another eight centuries. That looked like a very short time tohim, of course. He thought it would be best to pass on a warning. "

"You know, " Pilch said after a brief pause, "I find myself agreeing withhim there, Trigger! I might turn in a short report on this, after all. "

"I think you should, really, " Trigger said. She smiled suddenly. "Ofcourse, it might wind up with people thinking both of us are ta-ta!"

"I'll risk that, " said Pilch. "It's been thought of me before. "

"If they did come, " Trigger said, "I guess we'd take them anyway. We'vetaken everything else like that that came long. And besides--"

Her voice trailed off thoughtfully. She studied the table top for amoment. Then she looked up at Pilch. 

"Well, " she said, smiling, "any other questions?"

"A few, " said Pilch, passing up the "and besides--" She considered. "Didyou ever actually see him make contact with you?"

"No, " Trigger said. "I was always asleep, and I suppose he made sure I'dstay asleep. They're built sort of like a leech, you know. I guess heknew I wouldn't feel comfortable about having something like that gooozing into the side of my neck or start oozing out again. Anyway, henever did let me see it. "

"Considerate little fellow!" said Pilch. She sighed. "Well, everythingcame out very satisfactorily--much more so than anyone could have daredhope at one time. All that's left is a very intriguing mystery which theHub will be chatting about for years.... What happened aboard DoctorFayle's vanished ship that caused the king plasmoid to awaken to awfullife?" she cried. "What equally mysterious event brought about its deathon that strangely hideous structure it had built in subspace? _What wasit planning to do there?_ Etcetera. " She smiled at Trigger. "Yes, verygood!"

"I saw they camouflaged out what was still visible of the originalsubstation before they let in the news viewers, " Trigger remarked. "Bright idea somebody had there!"

"Yes. It was I. And the Devagas hierarchy is broken, and the Ermetynesrun out of Tranest. Two very bad spots, those were! I don't recallhaving heard what they did to your friend, Pluly. "

"_I_ heard, " Trigger said. "He just got black-listed by Grand Commercefinally and lost all his shipping concessions. However, his daughter ismarried to an up and coming young businessman who happened to be on handand have the money and other qualifications to pick up thoseconcessions. " She laughed. "It's the Inger Lines now. They're smartcharacters, in a way!"

"Yes, " said Pilch. "In a way. Did you know Lyad Ermetyne put in forvoluntary rehabilitation with us, and then changed her mind and joinedthe Service?"

"I'd heard of it. " Trigger hesitated. "Did you know Lyad paid me a shortvisit about an hour before you got here this morning?"

"I thought she would, " Pilch said. "We came in to Maccadon together. "

Trigger had been a little startled when she answered the doorchime andsaw Lyad standing there. She invited the Ermetyne in. 

"I thought I'd thank you personally, " Lyad said casually, "for arecording which was delivered to me some months ago. "

"That's quite all right, " Trigger said, also casually. "I was sure Iwasn't going to have any use for it. "

Lyad studied her face for a moment. "To be honest about it, TriggerArgee, " she said, "I still don't feel entirely cordial toward you!However, I did appreciate the gesture of letting me have the recording. So I decided to drop by to tell you there isn't really too much left inthe way of hard feelings, on my part. "

They shook hands restrainedly, and the Ermetyne sauntered out again. 

"The other reason she came here, " Pilch said, "is to take care of thefinancing of Mantelish's expedition. "

"I didn't know that!" Trigger said, surprised. 

"It's her way of making amends. Her legitimate Hub holdings are stillenormous, of course. She can afford it. "

"Well, " Trigger said, "that's one thing about Lyad--she's wholehearted!"

"She's that, " said Pilch. "Rarely have I seen anyone rip into totaltherapy with the verve displayed by the Ermetyne. She mentioned on oneoccasion that there simply had to be some way of getting ahead of youagain. "

"Oh, " said Trigger. 

"Yes, " said Pilch. "By the way, what are your own plans nowadays? Asidefrom getting married. "

Trigger stretched slim tanned arms over her head and grinned. "Noimmediate plans!" she said. "I've resigned from Precol. Got a couple ofchecks from the Federation. One to cover my expenses on that plasmoidbusiness--that was the Dawn City fare mainly--and the other for the fiveweeks special duty they figured I was on for them. So I'm up to fivethousand crowns again, and I thought I'd just loaf around and sort ofthink things over till Quillan gets back from his current assignment. "

"I see. When is Major Quillan returning?"

"In about a month. It's Captain Quillan at present, by the way. "

"Oh?" said Pilch. "What happened?"

"That unwarranted interference with a political situation business. They'd broadcast a warning against taking individual action of any kindagainst the plasmoid station. But when he got there and heard theCommissioner was in a kind of coma, and I wasn't even on board, he losthis head and came charging into the station after me, flinging grenadesand so on around. The plasmoids would have finished him off prettyquick, except most of them had started slowing down as soon as Repulsiveturned off the main one. The lunatic was lucky the termites didn't getto him before he even reached the station!"

Pilch said, "Termites?"

Trigger told her about the termites. 

"Ugh!" said Pilch. "I hadn't heard about those. So they broke him forthat. It hardly seems right. "

"Well, you have to have discipline, " Trigger said tolerantly. "Ape's abit short on that end anyway. They'll be upgrading him again fairlysoon, I imagine. I might just be going into Space Scout Intelligencemyself, by the way. They said they'd be glad to have me. "

"Not at all incidentally, " remarked Pilch, "my Service also would beglad to have you. "

"Would they?" Trigger looked at her thoughtfully. "That includes thattotal therapy process, doesn't it?"

"Usually, " said Pilch. 

"Well, I might some day. But not just yet. " She smiled. "Let's let Lyadget a head start! Actually, it's just I've found out there are so manyinteresting things going on all around that I'd like to look them over abit before I go charging seriously into a career again. " She reachedacross the table and tapped Pilch's wrist. "And I'll show you oneinteresting thing that's going on right here! Take Mantelish's big treeout there!"

"The sequoia?"

"Yes. Now just last year it was looking so bad they almost talked theprofessor into having it taken away. Hardly a green branch left on it. "

Pilch shaded her eyes and looked at the sequoia's crown far above them. "It looks, " she observed reflectively, "in fairly good shape at themoment, I'd say!"

"Yes, and it's getting greener every week. Mantelish brags about a newsolvent he's been dosing its roots with. You see that great big branchlike an L turned upward, just a little above the center?"

Pilch looked again. "Yes, " she said after a moment, "I think so. "

"Just before the L turns upward, there's a little cluster of greenbranches, " Trigger said. 

"I see those, yes. "

Trigger picked up the field glasses and handed them to her. "Get thoselittle branches in the glasses, " she said. 

Pilch said presently, "Got them. "

Trigger stood up and faced up to the sequoia. She cupped her hands toher mouth, took a deep breath, and yelled. "Yoo-hoo! Reee-pul-sive!"

Down in the garden, Mantelish straightened and looked about angrily. Then he saw Trigger and smiled. 

"Yoo-hoo yourself, Trigger!" he shouted, and turned back to his spading. 

Trigger watched Pilch's face from the side. She saw her give a suddenstart. 

"Great Galaxies!" Pilch breathed. She kept on looking. "That's one forthe book, isn't it?" Finally she put the glasses down. She appearedsomewhat stunned. "He really is a little green man!"

"Only when he's trying to be. It's a sort of sign of friendliness. "

"What's he doing up there?"

"He moved over into the sequoia right after we got back, " Trigger said. "And that's where he'll probably stay indefinitely now. It's just theright kind of place for Repulsive. "

"Have you been doing any more--well, talking?"

"No. Too strenuous both ways. Until a few days before we got back here, there wasn't even a sign from him. He just about knocked himself out onthat big plasmoid. "

"Who else knows about this?" asked Pilch. 

"Nobody. I would have told Holati, except he's still mad enough abouthaving been put into a coma, he might go out and chop the sequoia down. "

"Well, it won't go into the report then, " Pilch said. "They'd just wantto bother Repulsive!"

"I knew it would be all right to tell you. And here's something elsevery interesting that's going on at present. "

"What's that?"

"The real hush-hush reason for Mantelish's expedition, " Triggerexplained, "is, of course, to scout around this whole area of space withplanetary plasmoid detectors. They don't want anybody stumbling onanother setup like Harvest Moon and accidentally activating another kingplasmoid. "

"Yes, " Pilch said. "I'd heard that. "

"It was Mantelish's idea, " said Trigger. "Now Mantelish is very fond ofthat sequoia tree. He's got a big, comfortable bench right among itsroots, where he likes to sit down around noon and have a little napwhen he's out here. "

"Oh!" said Pilch. "Repulsive's been up to his old tricks, eh?"

"Sure. He's given Mantelish very exact instructions. So they're going tofind one of those setups, all right. And they won't come back with anyplasmoids. But they will come back with something they don't knowabout. "

Pilch looked at her for a moment. "_You_ say it!"

Trigger's grin widened. "A little green woman, " she said. 

CONSIDER THE PLASMOIDS.... 

Ancient living machines that after millennia of stillness suddenly beginto move under their own power, for reasons that remain a mystery to men. Holati Tate discovered them--then disappeared. Trigger Argee was hisclosest associate--she means to find him. She's brilliant, beautiful, and skilled in every known martial art. She's worth plenty--dead oralive--to more than one faction in this obscure battle. And she'sbeginning to have a chilling notion that the long-vanished Masters ofthe Old Galaxy were wise when they exiled the plasmoids to the mostdistant and isolated world they knew.... 

Printed in U. S. A. 

Transcriber's Note:

The following typographical errors in the original text have beencorrected in this eBook:

Chapter 1: "activites" changed to "activities"

Chapter 2: "maker" changed to "make"

Chapter 3: "O. G. " changed to "O. G. " for consistency

"sufficienty" changed to "sufficiently"

Chapter 4: "Commission" changed to "Commissioner"

Chapter 6: "glass" changed to "glasses"

Chapter 8: missing period added after "faintly"

Chapter 9: "rekembered" changed to "remembered"

missing comma added after "leaves"

"foward" changed to "forward"

"taking" changed to "talking"

"dignifed" changed to "dignified"

Chapter 10: "ogirinal" changed to "original"

Chapter 11: "Whatzzitt" changed to "Whatzzit"

Chapter 12: "buiness" changed to "business"

Chapter 13: "tycoonness" changed to "tycooness"

Chapter 14: "soo" changed to "so"

Chapter 15: "Amplifed" changed to "Amplified"

Chapter 16: missing thought break added

"specailty" changed to "specialty"

Chapter 19: missing end quotation mark added to "Our escort. Commissioner Tate made very sure we had one, too!"

"you" changed to "your"

Chapter 20: "amensia" changed to "amnesia" (3 times)

missing end quotation mark added to "All right--what's this?"

"unmollifed" changed to "unmollified"

Chapter 21: missing period added after "Pluly's"

Chapter 22: period changed to comma after "Lyad said"

"agin" changed to "again"

missing period added after "Lyad"

Chapter 24: "appologizing" changed to "apologizing"

"Blamordan" changed to "Balmordan"

"OradoComWeb" changed to "Orado ComWeb"

Chapter 25: period changed to question mark after "Who'd hesitate"

missing comma added after "jerk"

Chapter 26: "Lusscious" changed to "Luscious"

"then" changed to "than"

"like" changed to "liked"

"plasmoids's" changed to "plasmoid's"

"turbulance" changed to "turbulence"

Chapter 27: "suprisingly" changed to "surprisingly"

"Commisioner" changed to "Commissioner"

Chapter 28: "someboy" changed to "somebody"

"clingling" changed to "clinging"