sly, "I don't like it!" She wriggled
slightly under Mantelish's hands. "And I'd sooner get out of this
chair!"

"Don't be childish, Trigger," said the professor annoyedly. "You're
behaving as if it were, in some manner, offensive."

"It is," she said.

"Hush, my dear," Mantelish said absently, putting on a little more
pressure. Trigger hushed resignedly. They watched. In about a minute,
the gliding thing reached the edge of the table. Trigger gathered
herself to duck out from under Mantelish's hands and go flying out of
the chair if it looked as if the plasmoid was about to drop into her
lap.

But it stopped. For a few seconds it lay motionless. Then it gradually
raised its front end and began waving it gently back and forth in the
air. At her, Trigger suspected.

"Yipes!" she said, horrified.

The front end sank back. The plasmoid lay still again. After a minute it
was still lying still.

"Show's over for the moment, I guess," said the Commissioner.

"I'm afraid so," said Professor Mantelish. His big hands went away from
Trigger's aching shoulders. "You startled it, Trigger!" he boomed at
her accusingly.

6

The point of it, Holati Tate explained, was that this had been more
activity than 113-A normally displayed over a period of a week. And
113-A was easily the most active plasmoid of them all nowadays.

"It is, of course, possible," Mantelish said, arousing from deep
thought, "that it was attracted by your body odor."

"Thank you, Mantelish!" said Trigger.

"You're welcome, my dear." Mantelish had pulled his chair up to the
table; he hitched himself forward in it. "We shall now," he announced,
"try a little experiment. Pick it up, Trigger."

She stared at him. "Pick it up! No, Mantelish. We shall now try some
other little experiment."

Mantelish furrowed his Jovian brows. Holati gave her a small smile
across the table. "Just touch it with the tip of a finger," he
suggested. "You can do that much for the professor, can't you?"

"Barely," Trigger told him grimly. But she reached out and put a
cautious finger tip to the less lively end of 113-A. After a moment she
said, "Hey!" She moved the finger lightly along the thing's surface. It
had a velvety, smooth, warm feeling, rather like a kitten. "You know,"
she said surprised, "it feels sort of nice! It just looks disgusting."

"Disgusting!" Mantelish boomed, offended again.

The Commissioner held up a hand. "Just a moment," he said. He'd pi