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Updated: June 14, 2025


Aircars were so nearly accident-proof that even Plemponi couldn't do more than snarl up traffic in one. "Have there been other raids in the school area since I left?" she asked, as he shot up out of the quadrangle and turned toward the balcony of his office. "That was just under four years ago, wasn't it?" Mihul said. "No, you were still with us when we had the last one.... Six years back.

"The others aren't choices." "Fair enough," said Mihul. She stood up and went over to the wall. She selected a holster belt from the pair hanging there and fastened it around her. "I rather thought you'd pick it," she said. She gave Trigger a brief grin. "Just make sure it's a good opening!" "I will," Trigger said.

"I thought," Trigger suggested, "I was one of the gang." "I've got special instructions on the matter," Mihul said. "Anyway, Whatzzit shows up. You have your interview. After that we do whatever Whatzzit says we're to do. As you know." Trigger nodded. "Meanwhile," said Mihul, "we're here. Very pleasant place to spend three-four days in my opinion, and I think, in yours."

Like seeing one's mirror image start moving about independently. If the girl had talked, it might have reduced the effect. But she remained silent. She put on the dress Trigger had been wearing and smoothed it down. Mihul surveyed the result. She nodded. "Perfect." She took Trigger's robe and scarf from the back of a chair where someone had draped them and handed them over.

"The Dykart bug causes temporary derangements, you know spells during which convalescents talk wildly, imagine things." Trigger popped another fragment of meat between her teeth and chewed thoughtfully, looking over at Mihul. "Very good duck or whatever!" she said. "Like imagining they've been more or less kidnapped, you mean?" "Things like that," Mihul agreed. Trigger shook her head.

She waited till he had lifted the car off the ground in a reckless swoop. "That business yesterday it really was a grabber raid?" "We're almost sure it was," Mihul said behind her, "though I did hear some talk they might have been after those two top-secret plasmoids in your Project." "That's not very likely," Trigger remarked.

"How long will it put me out?" "Eight to nine hours." Mihul stood by watchfully while Trigger emptied the tumbler. After a moment the tumbler fell to the floor. She reached out and caught Trigger as she started down. "All right," she said across her shoulder to the open doorway behind her. "Let's move!" Trigger awoke and instantly went taut with tension.

"It seems you'll be writing your own ticket from here on out." Trigger stared at him, wondering. "Why?" Quillan grinned. "New instructions have been handed down," he said. "If you're still curious, ask Whatzzit." "Oh," Trigger said. "Then why are you here?" "I," said Quillan, "am to make damn sure you get to Manon. I brought a few people with me." "Mihul, too?" Trigger asked, a shade diffidently.

She pulled off her slippers, climbed on the outsized divan which passed here for a bunk, and stretched out. She lay there a while, blinking at the ceiling and worrying a little about Mihul. Even theoretically a stunner-max blast couldn't cause Mihul the slightest permanent damage.

"You won't wear the scarf," she said. "Just shove it into a pocket of the coat." The girl slung the cloak over her shoulder and stood holding the scarf. Mihul looked her over once more. "You'll do," she said. She smiled briefly. "All right." The facsimile glanced at Trigger again, turned and moved attractively out of the room. Trigger frowned. "Something wrong?" Mihul asked.

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