"Yes. Possibly. I imagine...." Plemponi had begun to perspire.
"Plemp," said Trigger, "will you give Holati a message from me?"
"Gladly!" said Plemponi. "What—oh, oh!" He flushed.
"Right," said Trigger. "You can contact him. I thought so."
Doctor Plemponi looked reproachful. "That was unfair, Trigger! You're quick-witted."
Trigger shrugged. "I can't see any justification for all this mystery, that's all." She stood up. "Anyway, here's the message. Tell him that unless somebody—rather promptly—gives me a good sane reason for hanging around here, I'll ask Precol to transfer me back to the Manon job."
Plemponi tut-tutted gloomily. "Trigger," he said, "I'll do my best about the message. But otherwise—"
She smiled nicely at him. "I know," she said, "your lips are sealed. Sorry if I've disturbed you, Plemp. But I'm just a Precol employee, after all. If I'm to waste their time, I'd like to know at least why it's necessary."
Plemponi watched her walk out of the room and off down the adjoining hall. In his face consternation struggled with approval.
"Lovely little figure, hasn't she?" he said to Mihul. He made vague curving motions in the air with one hand, more or less opposing ones with the other. "That sort of an up-and-sideways lilt when she walks."