“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-class hotel.
There was no one obviously waiting for her at the Bank of Maccadon. In fact, since that venerable institution 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 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 spacers on planetleave came rollicking cheerily toward her, uniform jackets unbuttoned, three Ceyce girls in arm-linked formation among them, all happily high. Trigger shifted toward the edge of the sidewalk to let them pass. As the line swayed up on her left, there was the shadowy settling of an aircar at the curb to her right.
With loud outcries of glad recognition and whoops of laughter, the line swung in about her, close. Bodies crowded against her; a hand was clapped over her mouth. Other hands held her arms. Her feet came off the ground and she had a momentary awareness of being rushed expertly forward.
Then she was in the car, half on her side over the rear seat, two very strong hands clamping her wrists together behind her back. As she sucked in her breath for a yell, the door snapped shut behind her, cutting off the rollicking “ha-ha-ha’s” and other noises outside.
There was a lurching twist as the aircar shot upward.
5
The man who held Trigger’s wrists shifted his grip up her arms, and turned her a little so that she could sit upright on the seat, faced half away from him. She had got only a glimpse of him as he caught her, but he seemed to be wearing the same kind of commercial spacer’s uniform as the group which had hustled her into the car. The other man in the car, the driver, sat up front with his back to them. He looked like any ordinary middle-aged civilian.
Trigger let her breath out slowly. There was no point in yelling now. She could feel her legs tremble a little, but she didn’t seem to be actually frightened. At least, not yet.
“Spot anything so far?” the man who held her asked. It was a deep voice. It sounded matter-of-fact, quite unexcited.
“Three possibles anyway,” the driver said with equal casualness. He didn’t turn his head. “Make it two . . . One very definite possible now, I’d say!”
“Better feed it to her then.”
The driver didn’t reply, but the car’s renewed surge of power pushed Trigger down hard on the seat. She couldn’t see much more than a shifting piece of the skyline through the front view plate. Their own car seemed to be rising at a tremendous rate. They were probably, she thought, already above the main traffic arteries over Ceyce. “Now, Miss Argee,” the man sitting beside her said, “I’d like to reassure you a little first.”
“Go ahead and reassure me,” Trigger said unsteadily.
“You’re in no slightest danger from us,” he said. “We’re your friends.”
“Nice friends!” remarked Trigger.
“I’ll explain it all in a couple of minutes. There may be some fairly dangerous characters on our tail at the moment, and if they start to catch up—”
“Which they seem to be doing,” the driver interrupted. “Hang on for a few fast turns when we hit the next cloud bank.”
“We’ll probably shake them there,” the other man explained to Trigger. “In case we don’t though, I’ll need both hands free to handle the guns.”
“So?” she asked.
“So I’d like to slip a set of cuffs on you for just a few minutes. I’ve been informed you’re a fairly tricky lady, and we don’t want you to do anything thoughtless. You won’t have them on very long. All right?”
Trigger bit her lip. It wasn’t all right, and she didn’t feel at all reassured so far.
“Go ahead,” she said.
He let go of her left arm, presumably to reach for the handcuffs. She twisted around on him and went into fast action.
She was fairly proficient at the practice of unarmed mayhem. The trouble was that the big ape she was trying the stuff on seemed at least as adept and with twice her muscle. She lost a precious instant finding out that the Denton was no longer in her robe pocket. After that she never got back the initiative. It didn’t help either that the car suddenly seemed to be trying to fly in three directions at once.
All in all, about forty seconds passed before she was plumped back on the seat, her hands behind her again, linked at the wrists by the smooth plastic cords of the cuffs. The ape stood behind the driver, his hands resting on the back of the seat. He wasn’t, Trigger observed bitterly, even breathing hard. The view plate was full of the cottony whiteness of a cloud heart. They seemed to be dropping again.
One more violent swerve and they came flashing out into wet gray cloud-shadow and on into brilliant sunlight.
A few seconds passed. Then the ape remarked, “Looks like you lost them, chum.”
“Right,” said the driver. “Almost at the river now. I’ll turn north there and drop down.”
“Right,” said the ape. “Get us that far and we’ll be out of trouble.”
A few minutes passed in silence. Presently Trigger sensed they were slowing and losing altitude. Then a line of trees flashed by in the view plate. “Nice flying!” the ape said. He punched the driver approvingly in the shoulder and turned back to Trigger.
They looked at each other for a few seconds. He was tall, dark-eyed, very deeply tanned, with thick sloping shoulders. He probably wasn’t more than five or six years older than she was. He was studying her curiously, and his eyes were remarkably steady. Something stirred in her for a moment, a small chill of fear. Something passed through her thoughts, a vague odd impression, like a half aroused memory, of huge, cold, dangerous things far away. It was gone before she could grasp it more clearly. She frowned.
The ape smiled. It wasn’t, Trigger saw, an entirely unpleasant face. “Sorry the party got rough,” he said. “Will you give parole if I take those cuffs off and tell you what this is about?”