s, "is
a completely impossible character!"

It was no more than the truth. She didn't mind so much that Quillan
wouldn't tell her what he thought of Lyad Ermetyne's standing on the
suspect list now--there hadn't really been much opportunity for open
conversation so far. But he and that unpleasant Belchik Pluly had
engaged in some jovial back-slapping and rib-punching when he and
Trigger went over to join Lyad's party at her request; and Quillan cried
out merrily that he and Belchik had long had one great interest in
common--ha-ha-ha! Then those two great buddies vanished together for a
full hour to take in some very special, not publicly programmed
Sensations Unlimited in the Dawn City's Inferno.

Lyad had smiled after them as they left. "Aren't men disgusting?" she
said tolerantly.

That reflected on her, didn't it? She was supposed to be very good
friends with somebody like that! Of course Quillan must have some bit of
Intelligence business in mind with Pluly, but there should be other ways
of going about it. And later, when she'd been just a little stiff with
him, Quillan had had the nerve to tell her not to be a prude, doll!

Trigger shoved the solidopic under the pillow. Then she rolled on her
side and blinked at the wall.

Naturally, Major Quillan's personal habits were none of her business. It
was just that in less than an hour he was to pick her up and take her to
the Ermetyne suite for that dinner. She was wondering how she should
behave towards him.

Reasonably pleasant but cool, she decided. But again, not too cool,
since she'd obligated herself to help him find out what the Tranest
tycooness was after. Any obvious lack of friendliness between them might
make the job more difficult.

Trigger sighed. Things were getting complicated again.

While Quillan was indulging his baser nature among the questionable
attractions of the Inferno, she'd shot three hundred of her Precol
credits on a formal black gown ... on what, yesterday, she would have
considered a rather unbelievable gown. Even at an Ermetyne dinner she
couldn't actually look dowdy in it. And then, accompanied by Gaya, who
had turned out to be a very pleasant but not very communicative
companion, she'd headed for a gambling room to make back the price of
the gown.

It hadn't worked out. The game she'd particularly studied up on turned
out to have a five hundred minimum play. Which finished that scheme. The
system she'd planned to use looked v