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Updated: May 23, 2025
Nobody as yet had got up the nerve to point out to him that private battlecraft definitely were not allowable in the Manon System. He came on finally. Trigger told him about the Devagas. "Did you know those characters were in the area?" she asked. The Commissioner knew. They'd stopped in at the system check station three days before. The ship was clean.
He staggered a little then, and Trigger realized for the first time that Belchy had got pretty thoroughly drunk. "Better give our guest a hand, Virod," Lyad called over her shoulder. "Happy dreams, Belchik! Are you going by Rest, Trigger? No? You're not, of course, Quillan. Balmordan?" The Devagas scientist also shook his head.
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."
Having received its experimental material, the plasmoid requested the Devagas to stay away from the substation for a while. The Devagas, said Lyad, while not too happy with their ally's increasingly independent attitude, were more anxious than ever to see the alliance progress to the working stage.
Finally, Balmordan investigated the dead brain. Installed in it he found what appeared to be near-microscopic energy receivers of plasmoid material. There was nothing to indicate what type of energy they were to or could receive. Devagas scientists, when they happened to be of the hierarchy, always had enjoyed one great advantage over most of their colleagues in the Federation.
The Scouts had swatted down a few Devagas vessels on the way in; but those had been headed toward the dome, not away from it. Perhaps the Psychology Service ship had arrived, several days ahead of time. The other three weren't in camp, but the lock to the Commissioner's ship stood open. Trigger went in and found them gathered up front.
They had succeeded in creating some working plasmoids. To go into satisfactory operation, they still needed 113-A. Balmordan had not known why. But they no longer needed Trigger Argee. Trigger Argee was now to be destroyed at the earliest opportunity. Again Balmordan had not known why. Fayle and his unit were in the fortress dome the Devagas had been building.
Trigger ran over the developments of the past days in her mind as she trotted along the path, getting dressed more or less on the way. The Devagas dome was solidly invested by now, its transmitters blanked out. It hadn't tried to communicate with its attackers. On their part, the Fed ships weren't pushing the attack.
A Federation destroyer appeared in the air above it. The Devagas ship couldn't escape. So it blew itself up. They were prepared for that, too. The Devagas pilot was being dead-brained three minutes later. He didn't know a significant thing except the exact coordinates of an armed, subterranean Devagas dome, three days' run away.
The Devagas apparently had had sense enough not to give the plasmoid every advantage. The Commissioner plunked a test shot next into one of the black protuberances. A small fiery crater appeared. It darkened quickly again. Out of the biggest opening, down near what would have been the foot of the stump if it had been a stump, something, long, red and wormlike wriggled rapidly.
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