Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 9, 2025
One from a street ComWeb and one from the bank. If they already had spotted me by that tracer 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 you came out of the bank anyway." His glance went past her. "We'll get back to that later. Right now, take a look at that entrance, will you?"
She checked herself. The room's ComWeb was signaling. Virod went over to it. A voice came through. "... The Garth-Manon subspace run begins in one hour. Rest cubicles have been prepared...." "That means me," Belchik Pluly said. He climbed hastily to his feet. "Can't stand dives! Get hallucinations. Nasty ones."
"That's your privilege," said Rozan. She half turned, swung a telewriter forward and snapped it into her ComWeb. She glanced out at Trigger's desk. "Your writer's connected, I see. We'll want thumbprint and signature." She slid a form into her telewriter, shifted it twice as Trigger deposited thumbprint and signature and drew it out. "The application will be processed promptly, Argee. Good day."
Five minutes later, she sat at the dresser, tapping her fingers on its glassy surface, gazing at the small pile of green ribbons before her and whistling 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 would be 741. A delightful little creation!" "Delightful," said Trigger.
Trigger wandered thoughtfully back to her cabin. She closed the door behind her. Then she saw the man sitting by the ComWeb cabinet. Her breath sucked in. 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. "How did you find me?" He shrugged.
Trigger felt quite cheerful for a while. Then she had a call from Precol's Maccadon office. She was requested to stand by while a personal interstellar transmission was switched to her ComWeb. It looked like her day! She hummed softly, waiting. She knew just one individual affluent enough to be able to afford personal interstellar conversations; and that was Commissioner Tate.
The bedside ComWeb warned her politely that it was now ten minutes to dive point. Waking passengers who experienced subspace distress in any form could obtain immediate assistance by a call on any ComWeb. If they preferred, they could have their cabins kept under the continuous visual supervision of their personal steward or stewardess.
"Apparently," Trigger admitted. They looked at each other a moment; then Brule grinned. "Well, keep your little secret!" he said. "All I really want to know is when you're getting back." "Very soon, I hope, Brule," Trigger said unhappily. Then there was a sudden burst of sound from the ComWeb gusts of laughing, chattering voices; a faint wash of music. Brule glanced aside.
But probably even the smallest of risks was more than the Tranest people would be willing to take when the First Lady's person was involved. Lyad reached the ComWeb and stopped. Trigger stopped too, five feet away. "Go ahead," she said quietly. Lyad turned to face her. "Let me make one last well, call it an appeal," she said. "Don't be an overethical fool, Trigger Argee!
So ... she'd get off the school grounds, take a tube strip into downtown Ceyce, step into a ComWeb booth, and call Grand Commerce transportation for information on the earliest subspace runs to Manon. She'd reserve a berth on the first fast boat out. In the name of let's see in the name of Birna Drellgannoth, who had been a friend of hers when they were around the age of ten.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking