"Planted?" Ali frowned at the banks of controls. "But how--no Eysie came
on board--no Salarik either, except for the cub who showed us what they
thought of catnip."
Rip shrugged. "How would I know how they did--" he was beginning when
Dane cut in:
"If they didn't know about our immunity the Queen might stay in Hyper and
never come out--there wouldn't be anyone to set the snap-out."
"Right enough. But on the chance that somebody did keep on his feet and
bring her home, they were ready with a cover. If no one raises a howl
Sargol will be written off the charts as infected, I-S sits on her tail
fins a year or so and then she promotes an investigation before the
Board. The Survey records are trotted out--no infection recorded. So they
send in a Patrol Probe. Everything is all right--so it wasn't the planet
after all--it was that dirty old Free Trader. And she's out of the way.
I-S gets the Koros trade all square and legal and we're no longer around
to worry about! Neat as a Salariki net-cast--and right around our
collective throats, my friends!"
"So what do we do now?" Weeks wanted to know.
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