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Updated: June 19, 2025
She was positive, for one thing, that Belchik Pluly wasn't at all happy about Balmordan's presence. Dinner was over before the Garth take-off, and they switched themselves back to the mountainside and took other chairs. A red-haired, green-eyed, tanned, sinuous young woman called Flam appeared from time to time to renew brandy glasses and pass iced fruits around.
Of course Quillan must have some bit of Intelligence business in mind with Pluly, but there should be other ways of going about it. And later, when she'd been just a little stiff with him, Quillan had had the nerve to tell her not to be a prude, doll! Trigger shoved the solidopic under the pillow. Then she rolled on her side and blinked at the wall.
Trigger looked at Pluly again. "Ugh!" she said faintly. Quillan laughed. "The Pluly salaries are correspondingly high. Viewer's dropping the group now, so there's just one more I'd like you to notice. The tall girl with black hair, in orange." Trigger nodded. "Yes. I see her. She's beautiful." "So she is. She's also Space Scout Intelligence. Gaya.
She cut in the don't-disturb barrier and dialed Holati's ship. It took a while to get through; he was probably busy somewhere in the crate. Like Belchik Pluly, the Commissioner, while still a very wealthy man, would have been a very much wealthier one if it weren't for his hobby. In his case, the hobby was ships, of which he now owned two.
She smiled. "How right you are, First Lady!" Quillan said. He tapped a breast pocket. "Scrambler and distorter present and in action." "And you, Balmordan?" "I must admit," Balmordan said pleasantly, "that I thought it wise to take certain precautions." "Very wise!" said Lyad. Her glance shifted, with some amusement in it, to Pluly. "Belchik?"
They started out of the little room, Pluly in the van, clutching his towel. The Ermetyne, dangling loosely over Quillan's left shoulder, looked fairly gruesomely dead. "You walk this side of me, Trigger," Quillan said. "Still all right?" She nodded. "Yes." Actually she wasn't quite.
"I'd like to know," Quillan said. "The Ermetyne's a lady of many interests. Now see the plump elderly man just behind her?" "The ugly one with the big head who sort of keeps blinking?" "That one. He's Belchik Pluly and " "Pluly?" Trigger interrupted. "The Pluly Lines?" "Yes. Why?" "Oh nothing really. I heard a friend of mine Pluly's got a yacht out in the Manon System. And a daughter."
"Nelauk arrived a week or so after you left. Nelauk Pluly. Her father's the Pluly Lines. Let's talk about you. What's the silver-haired idea?" "Got talked into it," she told him. "It's all the rage again right now." He surveyed her critically. "I like you better as a redhead." "So do I." Oops, Trigger thought. Security, girl! "So I'll change back tonight," she went on quickly. "Golly, Brule.
It was I. And the Devagas hierarchy is broken, and the Ermetynes run out of Tranest. Two very bad spots, those were! I don't recall having heard what they did to your friend, Pluly." "I heard," Trigger said. "He just got black-listed by Grand Commerce finally and lost all his shipping concessions.
Little Nelauk mightn't be twenty yet, but she'd flipped out a challenge just now with all the languid confidence of a veteran campaigner. Which, Trigger thought cattily, little Nelauk undoubtedly was. And a girl, she added cattily, whose father represented the Pluly Lines did have some slight reason for confidence.... "Miaow!" she reproved herself. Nelauk, to be honest about it, was also a dish.
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