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She began to laugh weakly. Light footsteps came quickly over to her. "Where is that plasmoid, Trigger?" The Ermetyne was in a fine, towering rage. She'd better say something. "Ask the Commissioner," she said, mumbling a little. "It's wearing off, First Lady," said Flam. "Shall I?" Trigger's thoughts went eddying away for a moment, and she didn't hear Lyad's reply.
Lyad nodded. "That was our bargain, Doctor. You know I keep bargains." Doctor Veetonia said, "Yes. You do. It is strange in an Ermetyne. Very well! I shall do it." He looked at Trigger's face. The black-liquid eyes blinked once or twice. "She is almost certain she is being watched," he said, "but she has been thinking of using the ComWeb.
Just to be certain it doesn't happen again, I shall make up a batch of antihypno pills. If I can remember the prescription." "I happen," the Ermetyne ventured, "to know a very good prescription for the purpose, Professor. If you will permit me!" Mantelish stood up. "I'll accept no prescriptions from you!" he said icily. He looked at Trigger as he turned to walk out of the cabin.
Quillan's tanned face was thoughtful, perhaps a trifle amused. Mantelish looked very red and angry. His shock of white hair was wildly rumpled. The Ermetyne appeared a bit wilted. "What's been going on?" Trigger asked. It was the wrong question. Mantelish took a deep breath and began bellowing like a wounded thunder-ork. Trigger listened, with some admiration.
The amber eyes regarded Trigger with very little expression for a moment. "How many hours or minutes do you think you could hold out here, Trigger Argee, if it became necessary to put on real pressure?" "I don't know," Trigger admitted. She moistened her lips. "I could give you a rather close estimate, I think," the Ermetyne said. "But forgive me for bringing up that matter.
Mantelish wasn't in the least appeased by the fact that again at the Commissioner's suggestion Lyad had installed one minor new hypno-command which, she said, would clear up permanently his tendency toward attacks of dive sickness. But he just ran down finally and sat there, glowering at the Ermetyne now and then.
"I've been conditioned against them, of course," Lyad said. "I'm an Ermetyne of Tranest. By the time I was twelve years old, that toy of yours couldn't have registered a reaction from me that I didn't want it to show." Quillan slipped the toy back in his pocket. "True enough, First Lady," he said. "And that's one small strike in your favor. We thought you might try to gimmick the gadget.
If you are at all reasonable, we'll just sit here and talk for twenty minutes or so. Then you will tell me what sum you wish to have deposited for you in what bank, and you will be free to go." "What will we talk about?" Trigger said. "Well, for one," said the Ermetyne, "there is that rather handsome little purse you've been carrying about lately.
The Askab of Elfkund is, you might way, one of the branch managers of the Ermetyne interests in the Hub. He is also a hard-working heel in his own right. But he's not the right size to be one of the people we're thinking about. Lyad is. He might have been doing a job for her." "Job?" she asked. She laughed. "Not with those odd little grannies?" "We know the odd little grannies.
On the flashing, all-out run to Luscious, subspace all the way, with the Commissioner and Quillan spelling each other around the clock at the controls, the transmitters clattering for attention every half hour, the ship's housekeeping had to be handled, and somebody besides Mantelish needed to keep a moderately beady eye on the Ermetyne, she hadn't even thought of acting on Pilch's suggestion.
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