Chapter 24

Quillan took over the ship controls, and the Commissioner and Trigger went with the recorder into the little office back of the transmitter cabinet, to slam out some fast reports to the Hub and other points. Lyad was apologizing profoundly to Mantelish as they left the lounge. The professor 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 was fibbing a bit?”

“Sure. Mainly she’d decided in advance how much to tell and how much not. She thinks fast in action though! No slips. What she told of what she knows makes a solid story, and with angles we can check on fast. So it’s bound to have plenty of information in it. It’ll do for the moment.”

“She’s already started buttering up Mantelish,” said Trigger.

“She’ll do that,” Quillan said. “By the time we reach Luscious, the prof probably might as well be back in the trances. The Commissioner intends to 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 had marked. “Red dot’s well inside,” he pointed out. “That bit was probably quite solid info.” He looked up at her. “Did it bother you much to hear the Devagas have dropped the grab idea and are out to do you in?”

Trigger shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “Wouldn’t make much difference 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 back into the lounge again. Just at present she did have a feeling of relaxed, 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 about that not-catassin you squashed?”

“The crazy things claim now it was a plasmoid,” Quillan said, “Revolting notion! But it makes some sense for once. Checks with some of the things Lyad just told us, too. Do you remember that Vethi sponge Balmordan was carrying?”

“Yes.”

“It didn’t come off the ship with him. He checked it out as having died en route.”

“That is a revolting notion!” Trigger said after a moment. “Well, at least we’ve got detectors now.”

But the feeling of security had faded somewhat again.

Before dinner was half over, the long-range transmitters abruptly came to life. For the next thirty minutes or so, messages rattled in incessantly, as assorted Headquarters here and there reacted to the Ermetyne’s report. The Commissioner sat in the little office and sorted over the incoming information. Trigger stayed at the transmitters, feeding it to him as it arrived. None of it affected them directly--they were already headed for the point in space a great many other people would 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. The transmitters purred idly. Then the person-to-person buzzer sounded.

Trigger punched the screen button. A voice pronounced the ship’s dial number.

“Acknowledging,” Trigger said. “Who is it?”

“Orado ComWeb Center,” said the voice. “Stand by for contact with Federation 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 chair she’d already vacated. Trigger took another seat a few feet away. She felt a little nervous, but she’d always wanted to see a high-powered diplomat 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 armchair in a very plush office.

“Congratulations, Commissioner!” he said, smiling. “I believe you’re aware by now that your latest report has set many wheels spinning rapidly!”

“I rather expected it would,” the Commissioner admitted. He also smiled.

They pitched it back and forth a few times, very chummy. Roadgear didn’t appear to be involved in any specific way with the operations which soon would 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’t acknowledge 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,” the Commissioner 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 calling about another matter. The First Lady of Tranest appears to have been very 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 been very persuasive?”

“Well,” Holati Tate said, “no more than usually.”

“Yes,” said Councilman Roadgear. “Now there’s been some slight concern expressed by some members of the Council--well, let’s say they’d just like to be reassured that the amenities one observes in dealing with a head of state actually are being observed in this case. I’m sure they are, of course.”

The Commissioner was silent a moment. “I was informed a while ago,” he said, “that full responsibility for this Head of State has been assigned to my group. Is that correct?”

The Councilman reddened very slightly. “Quite,” he said. “The official Council Order should reach you in a day or so.”

“Well, then,” said the Commissioner, “I’ll assure you and you can assure the Councilmen who were feeling concerned that the amenities are being observed. Then everybody can relax again. Is that all right?”

“No, not quite,” Roadgear said annoyedly. “In fact, the Councilmen would very much prefer it, Commissioner, if I were given an opportunity to speak to the First Lady directly to reassure myself on the point.”

“Well,” Commissioner Tate said, “she can’t come to the transmitters right now. She’s washing the dishes.”

The Councilman reddened very considerably this time. He stared at the Commissioner a moment longer. Then he said in a very soft voice, “Oh, the hell with it!” He added, “Good luck, Commissioner--you’re going to need it some time.”

The screen went blank.

The scouts of Selan’s Independent Fleet, who had first looked this planet over and decided to call it Luscious, had selected a name, Trigger thought, which probably would stick. Because that was what it was, at least in the area where they were camping.