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Updated: June 3, 2025
"What's this business about they might be back again?" "Well," Trigger said, "he thought they might be. Just might. Actually he believed the Jesters got wiped out too." "Eh?" Pilch said. "How's that?" "Quite a lot of the Old Galactics went along with them like Repulsive went along with me. And one of the things they did know," Trigger said, "was how to spread diseases like nobody's business.
So they're going to find one of those setups, all right. And they won't come back with any plasmoids. But they will come back with something they don't know about." Pilch looked at her for a moment. "You say it!" Trigger's grin widened. "A little green woman," she said.
Half an hour later she sat up on the couch. Pilch switched on a desk light and looked at her thoughtfully. Trigger blinked. Then her eyes widened, first with surprise, then in comprehension. "Liar!" she said. "Hm-m-m," said Pilch. "Yes." "That was the interview!" "True." "Then you're the egghead!" "Tcha!" said Pilch. "Well, I believe I can modestly describe myself as being like that. Yes.
"I can't see anyone making me wild for the things, whatever they tried!" Pilch nodded. "Could be done," she said. "Rather easily. You'd be bats, of course. But that's very different from a simple neutralizing process like the one we've been discussing.... Now here's something else. You were pretty unhappy about this business for a while. That wasn't somebody's fault. That was us. I'll explain.
"So I am involved with the plasmoid mess?" "You're right in the middle of it, Trigger. That's definite. In just what way is something we should be able to determine next session." Pilch turned off the desk light and stood up. "I always hate to run off and leave something half finished like this," she admitted, "but I'll have to run anyway.
"But I suppose you people have your problems with Security too." "Who doesn't?" said Pilch. "You're secure enough for me. Fire away." "All right," Trigger said. "Commissioner Tate told me people like you don't work much with individuals." "Not as much as we'd like to. That's true."
No, wait. It's not his! But it belongs to other little green people." "How do you feel about that?" "Well I hate those giants!" Trigger said. "They're cruel. And they laugh about being cruel." "Are you afraid of them?" Trigger blinked at the screen for a few seconds. "No," she said in a low, sleepy voice. "Not yet." Pilch was silent a moment. She said then, "One more." Trigger looked and frowned.
Mainly I'm wondering why somebody wants me to not-dislike plasmoids." "So am I wondering," said Pilch. "Somebody does, obviously. And a very slick somebody it is. We'll find out by and by. Incidentally, this particular part of the business has been concluded. Apparently, somebody doesn't intend to make you wild for plasmoids. It's enough that you don't dislike them." Trigger smiled.
"When you people look into somebody's mind, you look!" "We work at it," Pilch said. "Let's see what you can do with this one." Trigger was silent for almost a minute before she said in a subdued voice, "I just get what it shows. It doesn't seem to mean anything?" "What does it show?" "Laughing giants stamping on a farm. A tiny sort of farm. It looks like it might be the little green man's farm.
Pilch said, "Of course not! But it was obvious the emergency was over, so I was whisked away to something else." She frowned slightly. "Sometimes," she admitted, "the Service keeps me the least bit busier than I'd prefer to be. So now it's been six months!" "I would have come in for another interview if you'd called me," Trigger said. "I know," said Pilch. "But that would have made it official.
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