"Except," said Trigger, "for that little flock of Junior Scientists who
keep themselves locked in with the plasmoids. They know less than
nothing and would be too scared to tell me that if I asked them."
Plemponi looked confused for a moment. "The last sentence--" He checked
himself. "Well, let's not quibble. Go on."
Trigger said, "That's it. Holati didn't need me on this job to begin
with. There's nothing involved about the organizational aspects. Unless
something begins to happen--and rather soon--there's no excuse for me to
stay here."
"Couldn't you," Plemponi suggested, "regard this as a kind of
well-earned little vacation?"
"I've tried to regard it as that. Holati impressed on me that one of us
had to remain in the area of the Project at all times, so I haven't even
been able to leave the school grounds. I've caught up with my reading,
and Mihul has put me through two of her tune-up commando courses. But
the point is that I'm not on vacation. I don't believe Precol would feel
that any of my present activities come under the heading of detached
duty work!"
There was a short silence. Plemponi stared down at his empty tray, said,
"Excuse me," got up and walked over to the wall chef with the tray.
"Wrong slot," Trigger told him.
He looked back. "Eh?"
"You want to put it in the disposal, don't you?"
"Thanks," Plemponi said absently. "Always doing that. Confusing
them...." He dropped the tray where it belonged, shoved his hands into
the chef's cleaning recess and waved them around, then came back, still
looking absent-minded, and stopped before Trigger's chair. He studied
her face for a moment.
"Commissioner Tate gave me a message for you," he said suddenly.
Trigger's eyes narrowed slightly. "When?"
"The day after he left." Plemponi lifted a hand. "Now wait! You'll see
how it was. He called in and said, and I quote, 'Plemp, you don't stand
much of a chance at keeping secrets from Trigger, so I'll give you no
unnecessary secrets to keep. If this business we're on won't let us get
back to the Project in the next couple of weeks, she'll get mighty
restless. When she starts to complain--but no earlier--just tell her
there are reasons why I can't contact her at present, or let her know
what I'm doing, and that I _will_ contact her as soon as I possibly
can.' End of quote."
"That was all?" asked Trigger.
"Yes."
"He didn't say a thing about how long this situation might continue?"
"No. I've given you the message word for word. My memory is excellent,
Trigger."
"So it could be more weeks? Or months?"
"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."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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