Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 9, 2025
He just about knocked himself out on that big plasmoid." "Who else knows about this?" asked Pilch. "Nobody. I would have told Holati, except he's still mad enough about having been put into a coma, he might go out and chop the sequoia down." "Well, it won't go into the report then," Pilch said. "They'd just want to bother Repulsive!" "I knew it would be all right to tell you.
"Like the Harvest Moon plasmoids when they stimulated 113?" "Right. He thought about that, and then located another moving plasmoid. He dropped in to look it over, with 113-A in his pocket again, and it stopped. He did the same thing in one more place and then quit. There aren't that many moving plasmoids around. Those three labs are still wondering what hit their specimens."
The Commissioner had used his ship's guns to brand the substation's coordinates in twenty-mile figures into a mountain plateau above Plasmoid Creek. They'd left much more detailed information in camp, but there was a chance it would be overlooked in too hurried a search. "Then they'll show up at the substation again four or five days behind us," the Commissioner said. "So they're no problem.
Pretty short leads so far, but you work with what you can get." He nodded at the table. "We picked up the first lead through 113-A." Trigger glanced down. The plasmoid lay there some inches from the side of her hand. "You know," she said uncomfortably, "old Repulsive moved again while we were talking! Towards my hand." She drew the hand away.
"Aren't you feeling well?" he asked solicitously. "Give me the plasmoid." "Honestly, Trigger." He shook his head. He laughed. "What are you talking about?" "A plasmoid. The one you took. The one you've got here." Brule stood up. He studied her face, blinking, puzzled. Then he laughed, richly. "Trigger, I've fed you one drink too many! I never thought you'd let me do it.
"Several," the Commissioner said. He glanced around. "That overgrown flower pot in the corner is one. Why?" "Just practicing," said Trigger. She turned to face the flower pot. "That will do. Now here I come along, thinking of nothing." She started walking toward the flower pot. "Then, suddenly, in front of me, there stands a plasmoid snatcher." She stopped in mid-stride.
When he woke up, he disposed of his three predecessors. Then he devoted his full attention to learning what the plasmoid was trying to say. In about three weeks it became clear.... The plasmoid had established contact with human beings because it needed their help. It needed a base like Harvest Moon from which to operate and on which to provide for its requirements.
The partition had been slid into the wall and the Commissioner, who was at the controls at the moment, had swung his seat half around toward the lounge. He glanced at the plasmoid purse as Trigger came in, grinned and gave her a small wink. "Come in and sit down," he said. "We've been waiting for you." Trigger sat down and looked at them. Something apparently had been going on.
They agreed that one thing they could be sure of was that the Vishni Fleet people and any other human beings who might have been on the station when it was turned over to the king plasmoid were no longer alive. Unless, of course, something had been done to them much more drastic than had happened to the Aurora's crew.
She made them out a check and gave it the Ruya Farn signature via telewriter. The figure on that check was going to cause some U-League auditor's eyebrows to fly off the top of his head one of these days; but if the League insisted on remaining aloof to the problems of its Plasmoid Project, a little financial anguish was the least it could expect in return.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking