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Updated: May 12, 2025
The little gun had a very precisely calibrated fast-acting stunner attachment, and old Runser Argee had instructed Trigger in its use with his customary thoroughness before he formally presented her with the gun. She had never had occasion to turn the stunner on a human being, but she'd used it on game.
A Precol aircar picked him up and let him out on a platform of the Headquarters dome near Commissioner Tate's offices. Quillan was handed on toward the offices through a string of underlings and reached the door just as it opened and 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.
She had gone over to a wall basin and was washing out a tumbler. "Why does she walk like that?" "The little swing in the rear? She's studied it." Mihul half filled the tumbler with water, fished a transparent splinter of something out of a pocket and cracked the splinter over the edge of the glass. "Among your friends it's referred to as the Argee Lilt. She's got you down pat, kid."
"Or drinks from you either, Trigger Argee!" he growled. "Who in the great spiraling 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 the lounge, to get the final story on Gess Fayle and the missing king plasmoid from the Ermetyne.
Ancient living machines that after millennia of stillness suddenly begin to move under their own power, for reasons that remain a mystery to men. Holati Tate discovered them then disappeared. Trigger Argee was his closest associate she means to find him. She's brilliant, beautiful, and skilled in every known martial art.
"Relax! They never had a chance. The characters Tate has guarding her are the fastest-moving squad I ever saw go into action." "That," Plemponi said reflectively, "doesn't sound much like our Maccadon 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 come in with a battleship."
The only somebody else who could give instructions to the Precolonization 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 inside her.
Nobody asks why. They just plow into the ticket purchase records. And right there are the little Argee thumbprints!" He looked at Trigger. "My own bet," he said, somewhat accusingly, "was that you were one of those that had just taken off. We didn't know about that ticket reservation." "What I don't see," Trigger said, changing the subject, "is why two murders should seem so very unusual.
"Fine example you set the students!" she remarked. "Flying right into a hot 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 first meeting with old Runser Argee, and I " "Plemp!"
"You, Trigger," Plemponi told her, "are an honored guest here at the Colonial School. You're the daughter of our late friend and colleague Runser Argee. You were one of our star pupils not just as a small-arms medallist either.
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