His face suddenly grew concerned. He looked at Lyad again. “Two more years only!” he said. “In two years I shall be free to retire, Lyad?”
Lyad nodded. “That was our bargain, Doctor. You know I keep bargains.”
Doctor Veetonia said, “Yes. You do. It is strange in an Ermetyne. Very well! I shall do it.” He looked at Trigger’s face. The black-liquid eyes blinked once or twice. “She is almost certain she is being watched,” he said, “but she has been thinking of using the ComWeb. The child, I believe, is prepared to attack us at any opportune moment.” He smiled. “Show her first why her position is hopeless. Then we shall see.”
“Why, it’s not in the least hopeless,” Lyad said. “And please feel no concern about the Doctor, Trigger. His methods are quite painless and involve none of the indignities of a chemical investigation. If you are at all reasonable, we’ll just sit here and talk for twenty minutes or so. Then you will tell me what sum you wish to have deposited for you in what bank, and you will be free to go.”
“What will we talk about?” Trigger said.
“Well, for one,” said the Ermetyne, “there is that rather handsome little purse you’ve been carrying about lately. My technicians inform me there may be some risk of damaging its contents if they attempt to force it open. We don’t want that. So we’ll talk a bit about the proper way of opening it.” She gave Trigger her little smile. “And Doctor Veetonia will verify the accuracy of any statements made on the matter.”
She considered. “Oh, and then I shall ask a few questions. Not many. And you will answer them. It really will be quite simple. But now let me tell you why I so very much wanted to see you today. We had a guest here last night. A gentleman whom you’ve met—Balmordan. He was mind-blocked on some quite important subjects, and so—though the doctor and I were very patient and careful—he died in the end. But before he died, he had told me as much as I really needed to know from him.
“Now with that information,” she went on, “and with the contents of your purse and with another little piece of information, which you possess, I shall presently go away. On Orado, a few hours later, Tranest’s ambassador will have a quiet talk with some members of the Federation Council. And that will be all, really.” She smiled. “No dramatic pursuit! No hue and cry! A few treaties will be very considerably revised. And the whole hubbub about the plasmoids will be over.” She nodded. “Because they can be made to work, you know. And very well!”
Doctor Veetonia hadn’t looked away from Trigger while Lyad was speaking. He said now, “My congratulations, First Lady! But the girl has not been convinced in the least that she should cooperate. She may hope to be rescued before the information you want can be forced from her.”
The Ermetyne sighed. “Oh, really now, Trigger!” She very nearly pouted. “Well, if I must explain about that to you, too, I shall.”
She considered a moment.
“Did you see your facsimile?”
Trigger nodded. “Very briefly.”
Lyad smiled. “How she and my other people passed in and out of that dome, and how it happened that your room guards were found unconscious and were very hurriedly taken to the medical department’s contagious ward, makes an amusing little story. But it would be too long in the telling just now. Your facsimile is one of Tranest’s finest actresses. She’s been studying and practicing being you for months. She knows where to go and what to do in that dome to avoid contact with people who know you too intimately. If it seems that discovery is imminent, she needs only a minute by herself to turn into an entirely different personality. So hours might pass without anyone even suspecting you were gone.
“But on the other hand,” Lyad admitted fairly, “your double might be caught immediately or within minutes. She would not be conscious then, and I doubt your fierce little Commissioner would go to the unethical limits of dead-braining a live woman. If he did, of course, he would learn nothing from her.
“Let’s assume, nevertheless, that for one reason and another your friends suspect me immediately, and only me. At the time you were being taken from the dome, I was observed leaving the Grand Commerce Center. I’d shopped rather freely; a number of fairly large crates and so forth were loaded into my speedboat. And we were observed returning to the Aurora.”
“Not bad,” Trigger admitted. “Another facsimile, I suppose?”
“Of course.” The Ermetyne glanced at a small jeweled wristwatch. “Now the Aurora, if my orders were being followed, and they were, dived approximately five minutes ago—unless somebody who might be your wrathful rescuers approached her before that time, in which case she dived then. In either case, the dive was seen by the Commissioner’s watchers; and the proper conclusions sooner or later will be drawn from that.”
“Supposing they dive after her and run her down?” Trigger said.
“They might! The Aurora is not an easy ship to run down in subspace; but they might. After some hours. It would be of no consequence at all, would it?” The amber eyes regarded Trigger with very little expression for a moment. “How many hours or minutes do you think you could hold out here, Trigger Argee, if it became necessary to put on real pressure?”
“I don’t know,” Trigger admitted. She moistened her lips.
“I could give you a rather close estimate, I think,” the Ermetyne said. “But forgive me for bringing up that matter. It was an unnecessary discourtesy. Let’s assume instead that the rather clever people with whom you’ve been working are quite clever enough to see through all these little maneuverings. Let’s assume further that they are even able to conclude immediately where you and I must be at the moment.
“We are, as it happens, on the Griffin, which is Belchik Pluly’s outsized yacht, and which is orbiting Manon at present. This room is on a sealed level of the yacht, where Belchik’s private life normally goes on undisturbed. I persuaded him two days ago to clear out this section of it for my own use. There is only one portal entry to the level, and that entry is locked and heavily guarded at the moment. There are two portal exits. One of them opens into a special lock in which there is a small speedboat of mine, prepared to leave. It’s a very fast boat. If there have been faster ones built in the Hub, I haven’t heard of them yet. And it can dive directly from the lock.”
She smiled at Trigger. “You have the picture now, haven’t you? If your friends decide to board the Griffin, they’ll be able to do it without too much argument. After all, we don’t want to be blown up accidentally. But they’ll have quite a time working their way into this level. If a boarding party is reported, we’ll just all quietly go away together with no fuss or hurry. I can guarantee that no one is going to trace or overtake that boat. You see?”
“Yes,” Trigger said disconsolately, slumping back a little. Her right hand dropped to her lap. Well, she thought, last chance!
Doctor Veetonia frowned. “First—” he began.
Trigger slapped the porgee pouch. And the Denton’s soundless blast slammed the talented investigator back and over in his chair.
“Gun,” Trigger explained unnecessarily.
The Ermetyne’s face had turned white with shock. She flicked a glance down at the man, then looked back at Trigger.
“There’re guns on me too, I imagine,” Trigger said. “But this one goes off very easily, First Lady! It would take hardly any jolt at all.”
Lyad nodded slightly. “They’re no fools! They won’t risk shooting. Don’t worry.” Her voice was careful but quite even. A tough cookie, as the Commissioner had remarked.
“We won’t bother about them at the moment,” Trigger said. “Let’s stand up together.”
They stood up.
“We’ll stay about five feet apart,” Trigger went on. “I don’t know if you’re the gun-grabbing type.”
The Ermetyne almost smiled. “I’m not!” she said.
“No point in taking chances,” Trigger said. “Five feet.” She gave Doctor Veetonia a quick glance. He did look very unpleasantly dead.
“We’ll go over to that ComWeb in a moment,” she told Lyad. “I imagine you wouldn’t have left it on open circuit?”
Lyad shook her head. “Calls go through the ship’s communication office.”
“Your own people on duty there?”
“No. Pluly’s.”
“Will they take your orders?”
“Certainly!”
“Can they listen in?” Trigger asked.
“Not if we seal the set here.”
Trigger nodded. “You’ll do the talking,” she said. “I’ll give you Commissioner Tate’s personal number. Tell them to dial it. The Precol transmitters pick up ComWeb circuits. Switch on the screen after the call is in; he’ll want to see me. When he comes on, just tell him what’s happened, where we are, what the layout is. He’s to come over with a squad to get us. I won’t say much, if anything. I’ll just keep the gun on you. If there’s any fumble, we both get it.”