Trigger and Friends by James H. Schmitz

Fluel’s gun thudded to the carpet. The Duke said, “Ah-aa-ah!” in a surprised voice, rolled up his eyes, and followed the gun down.

Quillan said, stunned, “He was fast! I felt that one parting my hair.”

* * *

He became very solicitous then—after first ascertaining that Fluel had left the Executive Block unaccompanied, on personal business. He located a pain killer spray in Reetal’s bedroom and applied it to the bruised point below the back of her neck. She was just beginning to relax gratefully, as the warm glow of the spray washed out the pain and the feeling of paralysis, when Kinmarten, lying on the carpet nearby, began to stir and mutter.

Quillan hastily put down the spray.

“Watch him!” he cautioned. “I’ll be right back. If he sits up, yell. He’s a bit wild at the moment. If he wakes up and sees the Duke lying there, he’ll start climbing the walls.”

“What—” Reetal began. But he was gone down the hall.

He returned immediately with a glass of water, went down on one knee beside Kinmarten, slid an arm under the rest warden’s shoulder, and lifted him to a sitting position.

“Wake up, old pal!” he said loudly. “Come on, wake up! Got something good for you here—”

“What are you giving him?” Reetal asked, cautiously massaging the back of her neck.

“Knockout drops. I already had to lay him out once. We want to lock him up with his wife now, and if he comes to and tells her what’s happened, they’ll both be out of their minds by the time we come to let them out—”

He interrupted himself. Kinmarten’s eyelids were fluttering. Quillan raised the glass to his lips. “Here you are, pal,” he said in a deep, soothing voice. “Drink it! It’ll make you feel a lot better.”

Kinmarten swallowed obediently, swallowed again. His eyelids stopped fluttering. Quillan lowered him back to the floor.

“That ought to do it,” he said.

“What,” Reetal asked, “did happen? The Duke—”

“Tell you as much as I can after we get Kinmarten out of the way. I have to get back to the Executive Block. Things are sort of teetering on the edge there.” He jerked his head at Fluel’s body. “I want to know about him, too, of course. Think you can walk now?”

Reetal groaned. “I can try,” she said.

They found Solvey Kinmarten dissolved in tears once more. She flung herself on her husband’s body when Quillan placed him on the bed. “What have those beasts done to Brock?” she demanded fiercely.

“Nothing very bad,” Quillan said soothingly. “He’s, um, under sedation at the moment, that’s all. We’ve got him away from them now, and he’s safe . . . look at it that way. You stay here and take care of him. We’ll have the whole deal cleared up before morning, doll. Then you can both come out of hiding again.” He gave her an encouraging wink.

“I’m so very grateful to both of you—”

“No trouble, really. But we’d better get back to work on the thing.”

“Heck,” Quillan said a few seconds later, as he and Reetal came out on the other side of the portal, “I feel like hell about those two. Nice little characters! Well, if the works blow up, they’ll never know it.”

“We’ll know it,” Reetal said meaningly. “Start talking.”

He rattled through a brief account of events in the Executive Block, listened to her report on the Duke’s visit, scratched his jaw reflectively.

“That might help!” he observed. “They’re about ready to jump down each other’s throats over there right now. A couple more pushes—” He stood staring down at the Duke’s body for a moment. Blood soiled the back of the silver jacket, seeping out from a tear above the heart area. Quillan bent down, got his hands under Fluel’s armpits, hauled the body upright.

Reetal asked, startled, “What are you going to do with it?”

“Something useful, I think. And wouldn’t that shock the Duke . . . the first time he’s been of any use to anybody. Zip through the Star’s ComWeb directory, doll, and get me the call symbol for Level Four of the Executive Block!”

* * *

Solvey Kinmarten dimmed the lights a trifle in the bedroom, went back to Brock, rearranged the pillows under his head, and bent down to place her lips tenderly to the large bruises on his forehead and the side of his jaw. Then she brought a chair up beside the bed, and sat down to watch him.

Perhaps a minute later, there was a slight noise behind her. Startled, she glanced around, saw something huge, black and shapeless moving swiftly across the carpet of the room toward her.

Solvey quietly fainted.

* * *

“Sure you know what to say?” Quillan asked.

Reetal moistened her lips. “Just let me go over it in my mind once more.” She was sitting on the floor, on the right side of the ComWeb stand, her face pale and intent. “You know,” she said, “this makes me feel a little queasy somehow, Quillan! And suppose they don’t fall for it?”

“They’ll fall for it!” Quillan was on his knees in front of the stand, supporting Fluel’s body, which was sprawled half across it, directly before the lit vision screen. An outflung arm hid the Duke’s face from the screen. “You almost had me thinking I was listening to Fluel when you did the take-off on him this evening. A dying man can be expected to sound a little odd, anyway.” He smiled at her encouragingly. “Ready now?”

Reetal nodded nervously, cleared her throat.

Quillan reached across Fluel, tapped out Level Four’s call symbol on the instrument, ducked back down below the stand. After a moment, there was a click.

Reetal produced a quavering, agonized groan. Somebody else gasped.

“Duke!” Baldy Perk’s voice shouted. “What’s happened?”

“Baldy Perk!” Quillan whispered quickly.

Reetal stammered hoarsely, “The c-c-commodore, Baldy! Shot me . . . shot Marras! They’re after . . . Quillan . . . now!”

“I thought Bad News . . .” Baldy sounded stunned.

“Was w-wrong, Baldy,” Reetal croaked. “Bad News . . . with us! Bad News . . . pal! The c-c-comm—”

Beneath the ComWeb stand the palm of Quillan’s right hand thrust sharply up and forward. The stand tilted, went crashing back to the floor. Fluel’s body lurched over with it. The vision screen shattered. Baldy’s roaring question was cut off abruptly.

“Great stuff, doll!” Quillan beamed, helping Reetal to her feet. “You sent shudders down my back!”

“Down mine, too!”

“I’ll get him out of here now. Ditch him in one of the shut-off sections. Then I’ll get back to the Executive Block. If Ryter’s thought to look into Kinmarten’s room, they’ll really be raving on both sides there now!”

“Is that necessary?” Reetal asked. “For you to go back, I mean. Somebody besides Fluel might have become suspicious of you by now.”

“Ryter might,” Quillan agreed “He’s looked like the sharpest of the lot right from the start. But we’ll have to risk that. We’ve got all the makings of a shooting war there now but we’ve got to make sure it gets set off before somebody thinks of comparing notes. If I’m around, I’ll keep jolting at their nerves.”

“I suppose you’re right. Now, our group—”

Quillan nodded. “No need to hold off on that any longer, the way things are moving. Get on another ComWeb and start putting out those Mayday messages right now! As soon as you’ve rounded the boys up—”

“That might,” Reetal said, “take a little less than an hour.”

“Fine. Then move them right into the Executive Block. With just a bit of luck, one hour from now should land them in the final stages of a beautiful battle on the upper levels. Give them my description and Ryter’s, so we don’t have accidents.”

“Why Ryter’s?”

“Found out he was the boy who took care of the bomb-planting detail. We want him alive. The others mightn’t know where it’s been tucked away. Heraga says the clerical staff and technicians in there are all wearing the white Star uniforms. Anyone else who isn’t in one of those uniforms is fair game—” He paused. “Oh, and tip them off about the Hlat. God only knows what that thing will be doing when the ruckus starts.”

“What about sending a few men in through the fifth level portal, the one you’ve unplugged?”

Quillan considered, shook his head. “No. Down on the ground level is where we want them. They’d have to portal there again from the fifth, and a portal is too easy to seal off and defend. Now let’s get a blanket or something to tuck Fluel into. I don’t want to feel conspicuous if I run into somebody on the way.”

5

Quillan emerged cautiously from the fifth portal in the Executive Block a short while later, came to a sudden stop just outside it. In the big room beyond the entry hall, the door of the baited cubicle was closed and the life-indicator on the door showed a bright steady green glow.

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