Part 26 (1/2)

Trigger had run into some of the odd-ball missionaries the Devagas kept sending about the Hub; and she'd sometimes speculated curiously regarding the leaders of that chronically angry, unpredictable nation which, on its twenty-eight restricted worlds, formed more than six percent of the population of the Hub. The Devagas seemed to like n.o.body; and certainly n.o.body liked them.

Balmordan didn't fit her picture of a Devagas leader too badly. His manner and talk were easygoing and agreeable. But his particular brand of ogle, when she first became aware of it, had been disquieting. Rather like a biologist planning the details of an interesting vivisection.

Of course he _was_ a biologist.

But Trigger kept wondering why Lyad had invited him to dinner. 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 gla.s.ses and pa.s.s iced fruits around. She gave Trigger coolly speculative looks now and then.

Then Virod showed up again with a flat tray of what turned out to be a very special brand of tobacco. Trigger declined. The men made connoisseur-type sounds of high appreciation, and everybody, including Lyad, lit up small pipes of a very special brand of coral and puffed away happily. Quillan looked up at Virod.

”Hi, big boy!” he said pleasantly. ”How's everything been with you?”

Virod, in a wide-sleeved scarlet jacket and creased black trousers, bowed his shaved bullet head very slightly. ”Everything's been fine, Major Quillan,” he said. ”Thank you.” He turned and went out of the place. Trigger glanced after him. Virod awed her a little--he was really huge. Moving about among them, he had seemed like a softly padding elephant. And there was an elephant's steady deftness in the way he held out the tiny tobacco trays.

The Ermetyne winked at Quillan. ”Quillan wrestled Virod to a pindown once,” she said to Trigger. ”A fifty-seven minute round, wasn't it?”

”Thereabouts,” Quillan said. He added, ”Trigger doesn't know yet that I was a sports b.u.m in my youth.”

”Really?” Trigger said.

He nodded. ”Come from a long line of sports b.u.ms, as a matter of fact.

But I broke tradition--went into business for myself finally. Nowadays I'm old and soft. Eh, Belchy?” The two great pals, sitting side by side, dug elbows at each other and ha-ha-ha'd. Trigger winced.

”Still in the same line of business, on the side?” Lyad inquired.

Quillan looked steadily at her and grinned. ”More or less,” he said.

”We might,” Lyad said thoughtfully, ”come back to that later. As for that match with Virod,” she went on to Trigger, ”it was really a terrific event! Virod was a Tranest arena professional before I took him into my personal employ, and he's very, very rarely been beaten in any such contest.” She laughed. ”And before such a large group of people too! I'm afraid he's never quite forgiven you for that, Quillan.”

”I'll keep out of his way,” Quillan said easily.

”Did you people know,” Lyad said, ”that the trouble on the way between Maccadon and Evalee was caused by a cata.s.sin killing?” There was a touch of mischief in the question, Trigger thought.

There were a.s.sorted startled responses. The Ermetyne went briefly over some of the details Quillan had told; essentially it was the same story.

”And do you know, Belchik, what the creature was trying to do? It was trying to get into the rest cubicle vaults. Just think, it might have been sent after you!”

It was rather cruel. Pluly's head jerked, and he blinked rapidly at Lyad, saying nothing. He was a badly scared little man at that moment.

Trigger felt a little sorry for him, but not too sorry. Belchy's ogle had been of the straightforward, loose-lipped, drooling variety.

”You're safe when you're in one of those things, Belchik!” Quillan said rea.s.suringly. ”Wouldn't you feel a little safer there yourself, Lyad? If you say they're not even sure they've killed the creature....”

”I probably shall have a cubicle set up here,” Lyad said. ”But not as protection against a cata.s.sin. It would never get past Pilli, for one thing.” She looked at Trigger. ”Oh, I forgot. You haven't met Pilli.

Virod!” she called.

Virod appeared at the far end of the terrace.

”Yes, First Lady?”