"And you, Balmordan?"
"I must admit," Balmordan said pleasantly, "that I thought it wise to take certain precautions."
"Very wise!" said Lyad. Her glance shifted, with some amusement in it, to Pluly. "Belchik?"
"You're a nerve-wracking woman, Lyad," Belchik said unhappily. "Yes. I'm scrambling, of course." He shuddered. "I can't afford to take chances. Not when you're around."
"Of course not, and even so," said Lyad, "there are still reasons why an unconsidered word might be embarrassing in this company. So, no, Trigger, I'm not expecting anybody to agree to anything tonight. I'm merely mentioning that I'm interested in the purchase of plasmoids. Incidentally, I'd be very much more interested even in seeing you, and Quillan, enter my employ directly. Yes, Belchik?"
Pluly had begun giggling wildly.
"I was—ha-ha—having the same idea!" he gasped. "About one of—ha-ha—of 'em anyway! I—"
He jerked and came to an abrupt stop, transfixed by Trigger's stare. Then he reached for his glass, blinking at top speed. "Excuse me," he muttered.
"Hardly, Belchik!" said Lyad. She gave Trigger a small wink. "But I can assure you, Trigger Argee, that you'd find my pay and working conditions very attractive indeed."
It seemed a good moment to look inscrutable. Trigger did.