Flam brought in a small package of flat disks taped together. Lyad took them.
"Sometimes," she told Quillan, "the Askab becomes a little independent. He's been spoken to. Here—you keep them for Trigger."
She tossed the package lightly over to them. Quillan put out a hand and caught it.
"Thanks," he said. He put the package in a pocket. "I'll call off my beagles."
"Suit yourself as to that," said the Ermetyne. "It won't hurt the Askab to stay frightened a little longer."
She checked herself. The room's ComWeb was signaling. Virod went over to it. A voice came through.
"... The Garth-Manon subspace run begins in one hour. Rest cubicles have been prepared...."
"That means me," Belchik Pluly said. He climbed hastily to his feet. "Can't stand dives! Get hallucinations. Nasty ones." He staggered a little then, and Trigger realized for the first time that Belchy had got pretty thoroughly drunk.
"Better give our guest a hand, Virod," Lyad called over her shoulder. "Happy dreams, Belchik! Are you going by Rest, Trigger? No? You're not, of course, Quillan. Balmordan?"
The Devagas scientist also shook his head.