13
She had felt somewhat self-conscious for the first two or three minutes.But it helped when she caught a glimpse of their own table drifting byamong the others and realized that the smiling red-headed viewer imageover there looked completely at her ease.
It helped, too, that Major Quillan turned suddenly into thelight-but-ardent-conversation type of companion. In the short precedingbriefing he had pointed out that a bit of flirting, etc., was anecessary, or at least nearly necessary, part of the act. Trigger wasgoing along with the flirting; he could be right about that. Sheintended to stay on the alert for the etc.
They got nibbles very promptly. But not quite the right kind.
The concealed table ComWeb murmured, "A caller requests to be connectedwith Major Quillan. Is it permitted?"
"Oho!" Quillan said poisonously. "I suspected we should have stayed offcircuit! Who's the caller?"
"The name given is Keth Deboll."
Quillan laughed. "Give the little wolf Major Quillan's regards and tellhim it was a good try. I'll look him up tomorrow."
He gave Trigger gentle wink. "Let 'em pant," he said. "At a distance!"
She smiled uncertainly. If he had a mustache, she thought, he'd betwirling it.
There were two more calls in the next few minutes, of similar nature.Quillan rebuffed them cheerfully. It was rather flattering in a way. Shewondered how so many people in the cocktail lounge happened to knowQuillan by name.
When the ComWeb reported the fourth caller, it sounded awed.
"The name given is the Lady Lyad Ermetyne!" it said.
Quillan beamed. "Lyad? Bless her heart! A pleasure. Put her through."
A screen shaped itself on the wall mirror to the right. Lyad Ermetyne'sface appeared in it.
"Heslet Quillan!" She smiled. "So you aren't permanently lost to yourfriends, after all!" It was a light, liquid voice. It suited herappearance perfectly.
"Only to the frivolous ones," Quillan said. His thick black brows wentup. His face took on a dedicated look. "I'm headed for Manon on duty."
She nodded. "Still with the Subspace Engineers?"
"And with the rank of major by now," Quillan said.
"Congratulations! But I'd already observed that your fabulous goodfortune hasn't deserted you in the least." Lyad's glance switched toTrigger; she smiled again. It was a pleasant, easy smile that showedwhite teeth. "Would you shield your ComWeb, Quillan?"
"Shield it?" Quillan looked surprised. "Why, certainly!" He reachedunder the edge of the table. The drifting viewer images vanished. "Goahead."
Lyad's eyes turned back to Trigger. They were off-color eyes, like amberor a light wine, fringed with long black lashes. Very steady, veryknowing eyes. Trigger felt herself tensing.
"Forgive me the discourtesy of inquiring directly," the light voicesaid. "But you are Trigger Argee, aren't you?"
Quillan's hand slapped the table. He looked at Trigger and laughed."Better give up, Trigger! I told you you were much more widely knownthan you believed."
* * * * *
"Well, Brule," Trigger muttered moodily to the solidopic propped uprightagainst the pillow before her, "you'd bug those pretty blue eyes out ifyou knew who's invited me to dinner!"
Brule smiled back winningly. She lay on her cabin's bed, chin on hercrossed arms, eyes a dozen inches from the pretty blue ones. Shestudied Brule's features soberly.
"Major Heslet Quillan," she announced suddenly in cold, even tones, "isa completely impossible character!"
It was no more than the truth. She didn't mind so much that Quillanwouldn't tell her what he thought of Lyad Ermetyne's standing on thesuspect list now--there hadn't really been much opportunity for openconversation so far. But he and that unpleasant Belchik Pluly hadengaged in some jovial back-slapping and rib-punching when he andTrigger went over to join Lyad's party at her request; and Quillan criedout merrily that he and Belchik had long had one great interest incommon--ha-ha-ha! Then those two great buddies vanished together for afull hour to take in some very special, not publicly programmedSensations Unlimited in the Dawn City's Inferno.
Lyad had smiled after them as they left. "Aren't men disgusting?" shesaid tolerantly.
That reflected on her, didn't it? She was supposed to be very goodfriends with somebody like that! Of course Quillan must have some bit ofIntelligence business in mind with Pluly, but there should be other waysof going about it. And later, when she'd been just a little stiff withhim, 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 herside and blinked at the wall.
Naturally, Major Quillan's personal habits were none of her business. Itwas just that in less than an hour he was to pick her up and take her tothe Ermetyne suite for that dinner. She was wondering how she shouldbehave towards him.
Reasonably pleasant but cool, she decided. But again, not too cool,since she'd obligated herself to help him find out what the Tranesttycooness was after. Any obvious lack of friendliness between them mightmake the job more difficult.
Trigger sighed. Things were getting complicated again.
While Quillan was indulging his baser nature among the questionableattractions of the Inferno, she'd shot three hundred of her Precolcredits on a formal black gown ... on what, yesterday, she would haveconsidered a rather unbelievable gown. Even at an Ermetyne dinner shecouldn't actually look dowdy in it. And then, accompanied by Gaya, whohad turned out to be a very pleasant but not very communicativecompanion, she'd headed for a gambling room to make back the price ofthe gown.
It hadn't worked out. The game she'd particularly studied up on turnedout to have a five hundred minimum play. Which finished that scheme. Thesystem she'd planned to use looked very sound, but she needed more thanone chance to try it in. She and Gaya sat down at another table, with adifferent game, where you could get in for fifty credits. In eightminutes Trigger lost a hundred and twenty and quit.
Gaya won seventy-five.
It had been an interesting day, but with some unsatisfactory aspects toit.
She hauled the solidopic out from under the pillow again.
"And you," she told Brule warningly, "seem to be playing around withsome very bad company, my friend! Just luck I'm coming back to see youdon't get into serious trouble!"
* * * * *
She'd showered and was studying the black gown's effect before themirror when the ComWeb chimed.
"Permission for audio intrusion granted," Trigger said casually withoutlooking around. She was getting used to this sort of thing.
"Thank you, Miss Drellgannoth," said the ComWeb. "A package from theBeldon Shop has been deposited in your mail transmitter." It signed off.
Beldon Shop? Trigger frowned, laid the gown across a chair and went overto the transmitter receptacle. She opened it. A flat small greenpackage, marked "The Styles of Beldon," slid out. A delicate scent cametrailing along with it. A small white envelope clung to the package'stop.
Inside the envelope was a card. It read:
"A peace offering. Would you wear it to dinner in token of forgiveness?Very humbly, Q."
Trigger found herself smiling and wiped off the smile. Then she let itcome back. No point in staying grim with the character! She pulled thepackage tab and it opened up. There were three smaller packages inside.
She opened the first of these and for a moment gazed doubtfully at fourobjects like green leaf buds, each the size of her thumb. She laid themdown and opened the second package. This one contained a pair of veryfancy high heels, green and pale gold.
Out of the third flowed something which was, at all events,extraordinarily beautiful material of some kind. Velvety green ...shimmeringly alive. Its touch was a caress. Its perfume was like softwhispers. Lifting one end with great care between thumb and finger,Trigger let it unfold itself to the floor.
Tilting her head to the side, she studied the shimmering feat
herweightcat's cradle of jewel-green ribbons that hung there.
Wear it?
What _was_ it?
She reflected, found her dressing gown in one of the suitcases, slippedit on, sat down before the ComWeb with the mysterious ribbonarrangement, and dialed Gaya's number.
The Intelligence girl was in her cabin and obviously had been napping.But she was wide awake now. "Shielded here!" she said quickly as soon asher image cleared. "Go ahead!"
"It's nothing important," Trigger said hastily. Gaya relaxed. "It'sjust--" she held up the ribbons. "Major Quillan sent me this."
Gaya uttered a small squeal. "Oh! Beautiful! A Beldon!"
"That's what it says."
Gaya smiled. "He must like you!"
"Oh?" said Trigger. She hesitated. Gaya's face grew questioning. Sheasked, "Is something the matter?"
"Probably not," said Trigger. She considered. "If you laugh," shewarned, "I'll hate you." She indicated the ribbons again. "What is thatBeldon really?"
Gaya blinked. "You haven't been around our decadent circles longenough," she said soberly. Then she did laugh. "Don't hate me, Trigger!Anyway, it's very high fashion. It's also"--her glance went quickly overTrigger--"in excellent taste, in this case. It's a Beldon gown."
A gown!
Some of the beautiful ribbons were wider than others. None of themlooked as wide as they should have been. Not for a gown.
Dubiously, Trigger wriggled and fitted herself into the high fashionitem. Even before she went over to the mirror in it, she knew itwouldn't do. Not possibly! Styles on many Hub worlds were rather bold ofcourse, but she was sure this effect wasn't what the Beldon's designershad intended.
She stepped in front of the mirror. Her eyes widened. "Brother!" shebreathed.
That Beldon did go with a woman like stripes went with a tiger! Afterone look, you couldn't quite understand why nature hadn't arranged forit first. But just as obviously there wasn't nearly enough Beldon aroundat the moment.
Trigger checked the time and began to feel harried. Probably she'd windup wearing the black gown anyway, but at least she wanted to get thismatter worked out before she decided. She dialed for a drink, took twoswallows and reflected that she might have put the thing on backwards.Or upside down.
Five minutes later, she sat at the dresser, tapping her fingers on itsglassy surface, gazing at the small pile of green ribbons before her andwhistling softly. There was a thoroughly bared look on her face.Suddenly she stood up and went back to the ComWeb.
"Ribbons?" said the lady who was the Beldon Shop's manager. "That wouldbe 741. A delightful little creation!"
"Delightful," said Trigger. "May I see it on the model?"
"Immediately, madam."
A few moments later, a long-limbed model strolled into the view screen,displaying an exquisite arrangement of burnt sienna ribbons plus fourlargish leaf-like designs. Trigger glanced quickly back to the tablewhere she had put down the strange green buds. They had quietly openedout meanwhile.
She thanked the manager, switched off the ComWeb, got into the Beldonagain and attached her leaf designs where the model had carried them.They adhered softly, molding themselves to her, neatly completing thecostume.
She stepped into the high heels and looked in the mirror again. Shebreathed "Brother!" again. Maccadon wouldn't have approved. She wasn'tsure she approved either.
But one thing was certain--there wasn't the remotest suggestion ofdowdiness about a Beldon. Objectively, impersonally considered, theeffect was terrific.
Feeling tawny and feline, Trigger slowly lifted one shoulder and loweredit again. She turned and strolled toward the full-length mirror acrossthe cabin, admiring the shifts of the Beldon effect in the flow ofmotion.
Terrific!
With another drink, she could do it.
She dialed another drink and settled down with it beneath the mechanicalstylist for a readjustment in the hairdo department. This time thestylist purred as it surveyed and hummed while it worked. And when thehairdo was done and Trigger moved to get up, its flexible little toolpads pulled her back gently into the seat and tilted up her chin. For amoment she was startled. Then she saw that the stylist had produced ashining make-up kit and was opening it. This time she was getting theworks....
Twenty minutes later, Quillan's voice informed her via the ComWeb thathe could be outside her cabin any time she was ready. Trigger told himcheerily to come right over, picked up her purse and swaggered towardthe door, smiling a cool, feline smile.
"Prude, eh?" she muttered.
She opened the door.
"Ya-arghk!" cried Quillan, shaken.