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Updated: May 9, 2025
She stared at the ComWeb, feeling a little shaken. All she'd done was to say she wanted to apply for a transfer! Undersecretary Rozan was one of Precol's Big Four. For a moment, Trigger had an uncanny notion. Some strange madness was spreading insidiously through the Hub. She shook the thought off. A businesslike blonde showed up in the screen. She might be about thirty-five.
She slipped the rain robe over her shoulders, dropped a coin into the ComWeb, and covered the silver-blonde hair with the scarf. The screen lit up. She asked for Grand Commerce Transportation. Waiting, she realized suddenly that so far she was rather enjoying herself.
An ornamental ComWeb stood against one wall. Two of the walls were covered with heavy hangings, and a great gold-brocaded canopy bellied from the ceiling. No doors or portals in sight; they might be camouflaged, or behind those hangings. Any number of people could be in call range and a few certainly must be watching her right now, because that small man was no rough-and-tumble type.
She thanked the manager, switched off the ComWeb, got into the Beldon again and attached her leaf designs where the model had carried them. They adhered softly, molding themselves to her, neatly completing the costume. She stepped into the high heels and looked in the mirror again. She breathed "Brother!" again. Maccadon wouldn't have approved. She wasn't sure she approved either.
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's face appeared in it. "Heslet Quillan!" She smiled. "So you aren't permanently lost to your friends, after all!" It was a light, liquid voice.
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.
"Permission for audio intrusion granted," Trigger said casually without looking around. She was getting used to this sort of thing. "Thank you, Miss Drellgannoth," said the ComWeb. "A package from the Beldon Shop has been deposited in your mail transmitter." It signed off. Beldon Shop? Trigger frowned, laid the gown across a chair and went over to the transmitter receptacle. She opened it.
There had been, Trigger recalled, a trifle nostalgically, barely eight hundred Precol employees, and not another human being, on that world in the days before Holati Tate announced his discovery. She was just letting the viewer panel slide back into the desk when the office ComWeb gave forth with a musical ping. She switched it on. "Hi, Rak!" she said cheerily. "Anything new?"
He knew her too well not to become suspicious if it looked as if she 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 take care of first?" It was a safe question. She'd signed the day's mail and checks before lunch. "Not a thing, Miss Farn." "Fine," said Ruya Farn.
Trigger's eyes shifted to the far end of the cabin. A rather large, very elegant piece of furniture stood there. Its function hadn't been immediately obvious, but she had heard of ComWeb Service Cabinets. She thanked the stewardess but declined the offer.
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