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 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 bared 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!"

"Deligh