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"It would be. Right now it's top secret for as long as Intelligence can keep it that way." Trigger chewed a savory morsel of something. "Then why did you tell me?" "You're one of the gang, however reluctant. And you're good at keeping the mouth shut. Your name, by the way, is now Comteen Lod, just turned eighteen. I am your dear mama. You call me Drura.
We're from Slyth-Talgon on Evalee, here for a few days shooting." Trigger nodded. "Do we do any shooting?" Mihul pointed a finger at a side table. The Denton lay there, looking like a toy beside a standard slender-barrelled sporting pistol. "Bet your life, Comteen!" she said. "I've always been too stingy to try out a first-class preserve on my own money. And this one is first class." She paused.
"Comteen and Drura Lod really exist. We're a very fair copy of what they look like, and they'll be kept out of sight till we're done here. Now " She leaned back comfortably, tilting the chair and clasping her hands around one knee. "Aside from the sport, we're here because you're a convalescent. You're recovering from a rather severe attack of Dykart Fever. Heard of it?" Trigger reflected.
So any time you try and miss, Comteen, mama is going to pin you down fast, and hot up your seat with whatever is handiest." Trigger stared at her. She cleared her throat. "While I'm carrying a gun?" she said shakily. "Don't be ridiculous, Mihul!" "You're not going to gun me for keeps to get out of a licking," Mihul said. "And that's all the Yool can do. How else will you stop me?"
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