s a
very elegant party costume. She was quite young, certainly not yet
twenty.

Brule laid a brotherly hand on a powdered shoulder. "Meet Trigger,
Nelauk!"

Nelauk murmured it was indeed an honor, one she had long looked forward
to. The violet eyes blinked sleepily at Trigger.

Trigger gave her a great big smile. "Thanks so much for arranging for
the call. I've been wondering how Brule was doing."

Wrong thing to say, probably, she thought. She was right. Nelauk reached
for it with no effort.

"Oh, he's doing wonderfully!" she assured Trigger without expression.
"I'm keeping an eye on him. And this small favor--it was the very least
I could do for Brule. For you, too, of course, Trigger dear."

Trigger held the smile firmly.

"Thanks so much, again!" she said.

Nelauk nodded, smiled back and drifted gracefully off the screen. Brule
blew Trigger a kiss. "They'll be cutting contact now. See you very, very
soon, Trigger, I hope."

His image vanished before she could answer.

She paced her office, muttering softly. She went over to the ComWeb
once, reached out toward it and drew her hand back again.

Better think this over.

It might not be an emergency. Brule didn't exactly chase women. He let
them chase him now and then. Long before she left Manon, Trigger had
discovered without much surprise, that the wives, daughters and girl
friends of visiting Hub tycoons were as susceptible to the Inger charm
as any Precol clerks. The main difference was that they were a lot more
direct about showing it.

It hadn't really worried her. In fact, she found Brule's slightly
startled reports of maneuverings of various amorous Hub ladies very
entertaining. But she had put in a little worrying about something else.
Brule's susceptibility seemed to be more to the overwhelming mass
display of wealth with which he was suddenly in almost constant contact.
Many of the yachts he went flitting around among as Precol's
representative were elaborate spacegoing palaces, and it appeared Brule
Inger was soon regarded as a highly welcome guest on most of them.

Brule talked about that a little too much.

Trigger resumed her pacing.

Little Nelauk mightn't be twenty yet, but she'd flipped out a challenge
just now with all the languid confidence of a veteran campaigner. Which,
Trigger thought cattily, little Nelauk undoubtedly was.

And a girl, she added cattily, whose father represented the Pluly Lines
did have some slight reason f