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Then she recoiled in horror." "Why?" "She said it had given her a very nasty electric jolt. Apparently like the one it gave Mantelish." Trigger glanced down dubiously at Repulsive. "Gee, thanks for letting me hold it, Holati! It seems to have stopped eating now, by the way. Or whatever it does. Doesn't look much fatter if any, does it?" The Commissioner looked. "No," he said.
"But ruinous in delicate instruments! That's why we're so careful." Holati Tate glanced at Trigger. "Better look in the black box, Trig," he said. She nodded and wormed herself farther into the innards of the transmitters. A minute later she announced, "Full of it! And that's the one part we can't repair or replace, of course. Is it your beast, Professor?"
Holati had come by just before to report that the Ermetyne was 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 her with this and that, and interrogations would be postponed until everybody was on their feet. When Trigger woke up from her five hour nap, the purse was shut. She opened it and looked inside.
"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 and Holati Tate never had worked up a really warm regard for each other. It had 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.
The Federation or something else, something quite unthinkable at the moment but comparable to the Federation in power and influence wanted to keep her here. She uncrumpled the application, detached Rozan's note, tore up the note and dropped its shreds into the wall disposal. That obligation was cancelled. She didn't have any other obligations. She'd liked Holati Tate.
Holati and Azol finished the check-up together 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.
Security.... Trigger wrinkled her nose. Security didn't mean a thing. Everybody and everything associated with the Old Galactic plasmoids had been wrapped up in Federation security measures since the day the plasmoid discovery was announced. And she'd been in the middle of the operations concerning them right along. Why should Holati Tate have turned secretive on her now?
She looked curiously at the Commissioner. "I didn't have a chance to talk to Major Quillan alone, so I'm wondering why Mantelish was told the I-Fleets in the Vishni area are hunting for planets with plasmoids on them. I thought you felt he was too woolly-minded to be trusted." "We couldn't keep that from him very well," Holati said. "He was the boy who thought of it."
And now you're the secretary and assistant of the famous Precolonial Commissioner Holati Tate which makes you almost a participant in what may well turn out to be the greatest scientific event of the century.... I'm referring, of course," Plemponi added, "to Tate's discovery of the Old Galactic plasmoids." "Of course," agreed Trigger. "And what is all this leading up to, Plemp?"
"Hand it over," Trigger said resignedly. "I did see quite a few pouches on the ship. Might as well get people used to thinking I've turned into a porgee sniffer." Holati went back to the desk safe and took out a flat pouch, the length of his hand but narrower. He gave it to her. It appeared to be worked of gold thread; one side was studded with tiny pearls, the opposite surface was plain.
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