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Updated: June 2, 2025
Being a slob suits him fine. He's just likely to be more cautious about it in future. So we'll let him go his happy way. Now let's get down to business. How does Pluly's yacht harem stack up?" A reminiscent smile spread slowly over Quillan's face. He shook his head. "Awesome, brother!" he said. "Plain awesome!" "Pick up anything useful?" "Nothing definite.
Still, each of those would still fetch around a hundred thousand credits, if you offered them to the right people. Incidentally, if asking you to this conference has interfered with any personal plans, just say so. We can put it off till tomorrow. Especially since it's beginning to look as if Mantelish won't make it here either." "Either?" Trigger said. "Quillan's already had to cancel.
But love was a cruel and unreasonable lord.... There was Nelchen Thorn, for instance.... He wondered would he have been happy with Nelchen? her hands were rather coarse about the finger-tips, as he remembered them.... The hands of Amalia, though, were perfection.... Then at last the body that had been Louis Quillan's fell asleep.
The concealed table ComWeb murmured, "A caller requests to be connected with Major Quillan. Is it permitted?" "Oho!" Quillan said poisonously. "I suspected we should have stayed off circuit! Who's the caller?" "The name given is Keth Deboll." Quillan laughed. "Give the little wolf Major Quillan's regards and tell him it was a good try. I'll look him up tomorrow." He gave Trigger gentle wink.
They had come down the stairway to the storerooms level and were walking along the big lit hallway toward their cabins. Trigger felt pleasantly relaxed. But she did have a great many pertinent questions to ask Quillan now, and she wanted to get started on them. "Oh!" she said suddenly. Just as suddenly, Quillan's hand was on her shoulder, moving her along. "Hush now," he said. "And keep walking."
They were off-color eyes, like amber or a light wine, fringed with long black lashes. Very steady, very knowing eyes. Trigger felt herself tensing. "Forgive me the discourtesy of inquiring directly," the light voice said. "But you are Trigger Argee, aren't you?" Quillan's hand slapped the table. He looked at Trigger and laughed. "Better give up, Trigger!
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.
"Imagine!" said Quillan thoughtfully. "Uh got something to seal up the clothes?" "Yes," Lyad said. "Bring it here, Flam." "Toss it, Flam!" cautioned Quillan. "Remember the leg." Lyad's hands did things to the clothes at her back. Then they went away. "You can sit up now, Trigger!" Quillan's voice informed her loudly. "Sort of slide down easy off the table and see if you can stand."
He appraised the green dress in the mirror again. His expression grew absent. It might be best, Trigger suspected, a trifle uneasily, to keep Major Quillan's thoughts turned away from things like nibbling. "All right," she said briskly. "Let's do that. But you'll have to brief me." She had felt somewhat self-conscious for the first two or three minutes.
"I heard," Pilch said. She smiled. "You picked a good one on the second try!" "Quillan's all right," Trigger agreed. "If you watch him a little." "Anyway," said Pilch, "Commissioner Tate seems to be just the least bit worried about you still." Trigger put a finger to her temple and made a small circling motion. "A bit ta-ta?" "Not exactly that, perhaps.
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