She heard. The Elfkund door also stayed open, while the racket beyond it grew shriller by the moment. Finally a ComWeb chimed. A feminine voice spoke sternly. The Quavering outcries subsided. It looked as if Security had been obliged to call on someone higher up in the Elfkund entourage to come to its aid. Trigger closed her door grinning. On the screen of her secluded library, she presently watched a great port shuttle swing in from Evalee to meet the hovering Dawn City. It would bring another five hundred or so passengers on board and take off the few who had merely been making the short run from Maccadon to Evalee in style. Solidopic operators were quite likely to be on the shuttle, so she had decided to keep away from the entry area. The transfer operation was carried out very expeditiously, probably to make up for some of the time lost on the surface. When the shuttle shoved off, the loudspeaker announced that normal space flight would be maintained till after the stopover at Garth. Trigger wandered thoughtfully back to her cabin. She closed the door behind her. Then she saw the man sitting by the ComWeb cabinet. Her breath sucked in. She crouched a little, ready to wheel and bolt. "Take it easy, Trigger!" Major Quillan said. He was in civilian clothes, of rather dudish cut. Trigger swallowed. There was, too obviously, no place to bolt to. "How did you find me?" He shrugged. "Longish story. You're not under arrest." "I'm not?" "No," said Quillan. "When we get to Manon, the Commissioner will have a suggestion to make to you." "Suggestion?" Trigger said warily. "I believe you're to take back your old Precol job in Manon, but as cover for your participation in our little project. If you agree to it." "What if I don't?" He shrugged again. "It seems you'll be writing your own ticket from here on out." Trigger stared at him, wondering. "Why?" Quillan grinned. "New instructions have been handed down," he said. "If you're still curious, ask Whatzzit." "Oh," Trigger said. "Then why are you here?" "I," said Quillan, "am to make damn sure you get to Manon. I brought a few people with me." "Mihul, too?" Trigger asked, a shade diffidently. "No. She's on Maccadon." "Is she--how's she doing?" "Doing all right," Quillan said. "She sends her regards and says a little less heft on the next solar plexus you torpedo should be good enough." Trigger flushed. "She isn't sore, is she?" "Not the way you mean," he considered. "Not many people have jumped Mihul successfully. In her cockeyed way, she seemed pretty proud of her student." Trigger felt the flush deepen. "I got her off her guard," she said. "Obviously," said Quillan. "In any ordinary argument she could pull your legs off and tie you up with them. Still, that wasn't bad. Have you talked to anybody since you came on board?" "Just the room stewardess. And a couple of old ladies in the next cabin." "Yeah," he said. "Couple of old ladies. What did you talk about?"