on't know yet," Holati told her. "Obviously he had something in
mind with the faked order and the alteration of the report. But the only
thing we can say definitely is that he disappeared on the League ship he
had requisitioned, along with its personnel and the 112-113 plasmoid,
and hasn't shown up again.

"And that plasmoid unit now appears to have been almost certainly the
key unit of the entire Old Galactic Station--the unit that kept
everything running along automatically there for thirty thousand years."

He glanced at Quillan. "Someone at the door. We'll hold it while you
see what they want."

7

The burly character who had appeared at the door said diffidently that
Professor Mantelish had wanted to be present while his lab equipment was
stowed aboard. If the professor didn't mind, things were about that far
along.

Mantelish excused himself and went off with the messenger. The door
closed. Quillan came back to his chair.

"We're moving the outfit later tonight," the Commissioner explained.
"Mantelish is coming along--plus around eight tons of his lab equipment.
Plus his special U-League guards."

"Oh?" Trigger picked up the Puya glass. She looked into it. It was
empty. "Moving where?" she asked.

"Manon," said the Commissioner. "Tell you about that later."

Every last muscle in Trigger's body seemed to go limp simultaneously.
She settled back slightly in the chair, surprised by the force of the
reaction. She hadn't realized by now how keyed up she was! She sighed a
small sigh. Then she smiled at Quillan.

"Major," she said, "how about a tiny little refill on that Puya--about
half?"

Quillan took care of the tiny little refill.

Commissioner Tate said, "By the way, Quillan does have a degree in
subspace engineering and gets assigned to the Engineers now and then.
But his real job's Space Scout Intelligence."

Trigger nodded. "I'd almost guessed it!" She gave Quillan another smile.
She nearly gave 113-A a smile.

"And now," said the Commissioner, "we'll talk more freely. We tell
Mantelish just as little as we can. To tell you the truth, Trigger, the
professor is a terrible handicap on an operation like this. I understand
he was a great friend of your father's."

"Yes," she said. "Going over for visits to Mantelish's garden with my
father is one of the earliest things I remember. I can imagine he's a
problem!" She shifted her gaze curiously from one to the other of the
two men. "What are