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She d showered and was studying the black gown s effect before the mirror when
the ComWeb chimed.
 Permission for audio intrusion granted, Trigger said casually without
looking around. She was getting used to this sort of thing.
 Thank you, Miss Drellgannoth, said the ComWeb.  A package from the Beldon
Shop has been deposited in your mail transmitter. It signed off.
Beldon Shop? Trigger frowned, laid the gown across a chair and went over to
the transmitter receptacle. She opened it.
A flat small green package, marked  The Styles of Beldon, slid out. A
delicate scent came trailing along with it. A small white envelope clung to
the package s top.
Inside the envelope was a card. It read:
 A peace offering. Would you wear it to dinner in token of forgiveness? Very
humbly, Q.
Trigger found herself smiling and wiped off the smile. Then she let it come
back. No point in staying grim with the character! She pulled the package tab
and it opened up. There were three smaller packages inside.
She opened the first of these and for a moment gazed doubtfully at four
objects like green leaf buds, each the size of her thumb. She laid them down
and opened the second package. This one contained a pair of very fancy high
heels, green and pale gold.
Out of the third flowed something which was, at all events, extraordinarily
beautiful material of some kind. Velvety green . . . shimmeringly alive. Its
touch was a caress. Its perfume was like soft whispers. Lifting one end with
great care between thumb and finger, Trigger let it unfold itself toward the
floor.
Tilting her head to the side, she studied the shimmering featherweight cat s
cradle of jewel-green ribbons that hung there.
Wear it?
What was it?
She reflected, found her dressing gown in one of the suitcases, slipped it on,
sat down before the ComWeb with the mysterious ribbon arrangement, and dialed
Gaya s number.
The Intelligence girl was in her cabin and obviously had been napping. But she
was wide awake now.  Shielded here!
she said quickly as soon as her image cleared.  Go ahead!
 It s nothing important, Trigger said hastily. Gaya relaxed.  It s just  She
held up the ribbons.  Major Quillan sent me this.
Gaya uttered a small squeal.  Oh! Beautiful! A Beldon!
 That s what it says.
Gaya smiled.  He must like you!
 Oh? said Trigger. She hesitated. Gaya s face grew questioning. She asked,
 Is something the matter?
 Probably not, said Trigger. She considered.  If you laugh, she warned,
 I ll hate you. She indicated the ribbons again.  What is that Beldon
really?
Gaya blinked.  You haven t been around our decadent circles long enough, she
said soberly. Then she did laugh.
 Don t hate me, Trigger! Anyway, it s very high fashion. It s also  her glance
went quickly over Trigger  in excellent taste, in this case. It s a Beldon
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gown.
A gown!
Some of the beautiful ribbons were wider than others. None of them looked as
wide as they should have been. Not for a gown.
Dubiously, Trigger wriggled and fitted herself into the high fashion item.
Even before she went over to the mirror in it, she knew it wouldn t do. Not
possibly! Styles on many Hub worlds were rather bold of course, but she was
sure this effect wasn t what the Beldon s designers had intended.
She stepped in front of the mirror. Her eyes widened.  Brother, she breathed.
That Beldon did go with a woman like stripes went with a tiger! After one
look, you couldn t quite understand why nature hadn t arranged for it first.
But just as obviously there wasn t nearly enough Beldon around at the moment.
Trigger checked the time and began to feel harried. Probably she d wind up
wearing the black gown anyway, but at least she wanted to get this matter
worked out before she decided. She dialed for a drink, took two swallows and
reflected that she might have put the thing on backwards. Or upside down.
Five minutes later, she sat at the dresser, tapping her fingers on its glassy
surface, gazing at the small pile of green ribbons before her and whistling
softly. There was a thoroughly baffled look on her face. Suddenly she stood up
and went back to the ComWeb.
 Ribbons? said the lady who was the Beldon Shop s manager.  That would be
741. A delightful little creation!
 Delightful, said Trigger.  May I see it on the model?
 Immediately, madam.
A few moments later, a long-limbed model strolled into the view screen,
displaying an exquisite arrangement of burnt sienna ribbons plus four largish
leaf-like designs. Trigger glanced quickly back to the table where she had put
down the strange green buds. They had quietly opened out meanwhile.
She thanked the manager, switched off the ComWeb, got into the Beldon again
and attached her leaf designs where the
model had carried them. They adhered softly, molding themselves to her, neatly
completing the costume.
She stepped into the high heels and looked in the mirror again. She breathed
 Brother! again. Maccadon wouldn t have approved. She wasn t sure she
approved either.
But one thing was certain there wasn t the remotest suggestion of dowdiness
about a Beldon. Objectively, impersonally considered, the effect was terrific.
Feeling tawny and feline, Trigger slowly lifted one shoulder and lowered it
again. She turned and strolled toward the full-length mirror across the cabin,
admiring the shifts of the Beldon effect in the flow of motion.
Terrific!
With another drink, she could do it.
She dialed another drink and settled down with it beneath the mechanical
stylist for a readjustment in the hairdo department. This time the stylist
purred as it surveyed and hummed while it worked. And when the hairdo was done
and
Trigger moved to get up, its flexible little tool pads pulled her back gently
into the seat and tilted up her chin. For a moment she was startled. Then she
saw that the stylist had produced a shining make-up kit and was opening it.
This time she was getting the works . . .
Twenty minutes later, Quillan s voice informed her via the ComWeb that he
could be outside her cabin any time she was ready. Trigger told him cheerily
to come right over, picked up her purse and swaggered toward the door, smiling
a cool, feline smile.
 Prude, eh? she muttered.
She opened the door. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]