Part 8 (1/2)

She couldn't help blinking, though she was braced for it. But it was more than she had counted on. A great deal more. It would leave her, in fact, with exactly one hundred and twenty-six crowns out of her entire savings, plus the coins she had in her purse.

”Any extras?” she asked, a little hoa.r.s.ely.

He shrugged. ”There's Traveler's Rest,” he said negligently. ”Nine hundred for the three dive periods. But Rest is optional, of course.

Some pa.s.sengers prefer the experience of staying awake during a subs.p.a.ce dive.” He smiled--rather s.a.d.i.s.tically, Trigger felt--and added, ”Till they've lived through one of them, that is.”

Trigger nodded. She'd lived through quite a few of them. She didn't like subs.p.a.ce particularly--n.o.body did--but except for an occasional touch of nausea or dizziness at the beginning of a dive, it didn't bother her much. Many people got hallucinations, went into states of panic or just got very sick. ”Anything else?” she asked.

”Just the usual tips and things,” said the clerk. He looked surprised.

”Do you--does madam wish to make the reservation?”

”Madam does,” Trigger told him coldly. ”How long will it hold?”

It would be good up to an hour before take-off time, she learned. If not claimed then, it would be filled from the last-minute waiting list.

She left the booth thoughtfully. At least the Dawn City would be leaving in less than twenty-six hours. She wouldn't have to spend much of her remaining capital before she got off Maccadon.

She'd skip meals, she decided. Except breakfast next morning, which would be covered by her hotel room fee.

And it wasn't going to be any middle-cla.s.s hotel.

There was no one obviously waiting for her at the Bank of Maccadon. In fact, since that venerable inst.i.tution covered a city block, with entrances running up from the street level to the fifty-eighth floor, a small army would have been needed to make sure of spotting her.

She had to identify herself to get into the vaults, but there was a solution to that. Seven years ago when Runser Argee died suddenly and she had to get his property and records straightened out, a gray-haired little vault attendant with whom she dealt with had taken a fatherly interest in her. When she saw he was still on the job, Trigger was certain the matter would go off all right.

It did. He didn't take a really close look at her until she shoved her signature and Federation identification in front of him. Then his head bobbed up briskly. His eyes lit up.

”Trigger!” He bounced out of his chair. His right hand shot out. ”Good to see you again! I've been hearing about you.”

They shook hands. She put a finger to her lips. ”I'm here incog!” she cautioned in a low voice. ”Can you handle this quietly?”

The faded blue eyes widened slightly, but he asked no questions. Trigger Argee's name was known rather widely, as a matter of fact, particularly on her home world. And as he remembered Trigger, she wasn't a girl who'd go look for a spotlight to stand in.

He nodded. ”Sure can!” He glanced suspiciously at the nearest customers, then looked down at what Trigger had written. He frowned. ”You drawing out everything? Not leaving Ceyce for good, are you?”

”No,” Trigger said. ”I'll be back. This is just a temporary emergency.”

That was all the explaining she had to do. Four minutes later she had her money. Three minutes after that she had paid for the Dawn City reservation as Birna Drellgannoth and deposited her thumbprints with the ticket office. Counting what was left, she found it came to just under a hundred and thirty-eight.

Definitely no dinner tonight! She needed a suitcase and a change of clothing. And then she'd just better go sit in that hotel room.

The street level traffic was moderate around the bank, but it began to thicken as she approached a shopping center two blocks farther on.

Striding along, neither hurrying nor idling, Trigger decided she had it made. The only real chance to catch up with her had been at the bank.

And the old vault attendant wouldn't talk.

Half a block from the shopping center, a row of s.p.a.cers on planet-leave came rollicking cheerily toward her, uniform jackets unb.u.t.toned, three Ceyce girls in arm-linked formation among them, all happily high.