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Updated: June 5, 2025
"That's a fact." Trigger took another sip. She set down her glass. "There's something else," she said reluctantly. "Yes?" "When you said you'd come on board to see I got to Manon, I was thinking none of the people who'd been after me on Maccadon could know I was on the Dawn City. They might though. Quite easily." "Oh?" said Quillan. "Yes. You see I made two calls to the ticket office.
And it wasn't going to be any middle-class hotel. There was no one obviously waiting for her at the Bank of Maccadon. In fact, since that venerable institution covered a city block, with entrances running up from the street level to the fifty-eighth floor, a small army would have been needed to make sure of spotting her.
"Let me tell you what's been happening these months, starting with that first amnesia-covered blankout on Harvest Moon. The Maccadon Colonial School has sound basic psychology courses, so there won't be much explaining to do. The connection between those incidents I mentioned and your earlier feeling of disliking plasmoids is obvious, isn't it?" Trigger nodded. "Good.
"Next day," said Holati, "Doctor Gess Fayle presented Mantelish with a transmitted message from U-League Headquarters. It contained instructions to have Fayle mount the 112-113 unit immediately in one of the League ships at Harvest Moon and bring it quietly to Maccadon." Mantelish frowned. "The message was faked!" he boomed. "Not only that," said Holati.
She was on a couch in an airy, spacious room furnished in the palest of greens and ivory. One entire side of the room was either a window or a solido screen. In it was a distant mountain range with many snowy peaks, an almost cloudless blue sky. Sun at midmorning or midafternoon. Sun and all had the look of Maccadon they probably still were on the planet.
White kid trousers which flared at the thighs and were drawn in to a close fit just above the knees and down the calves, vanishing into kid boots with thick, flexible soles. Sporting outfit.... That meant Maccadon! She pulled a handful of hair forward and looked at it. They'd recolored it this time to a warm mahogany brown. She swung her legs off the couch and stood up quietly.
"I see!" Came to roughly eight hundred fifty Maccadon crowns, was what she saw. "May we model it in your suite, madam?" the store manager inquired. "No, thanks," Trigger told her. "Just looking them over a bit." She switched off, frowned absently at a panel labeled "Your Selection of Personalized Illusion Arrangements," shook her head, snapped the cabinet shut and stood up.
And on Maccadon, in just a few weeks, you'd begun working that moderate inclination to be back in the Manon System up to a dandy first-rate compulsion." Trigger licked her lips. "Sure," said Pilch. "You had to have a good sensible reason. You gave yourself one." "Well!" "Oh, you were fond of that young man, all right. Who wouldn't be? Wonderful-looking lug.
Which was understandable, since it was the First Lady herself, Trigger gathered gradually from the noise, who had put Mantelish under the influence, back in his own garden on Maccadon, and within two weeks after his first return from Harvest Moon.
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