For a little while, Vall stood looking at them,
then he began whistling softly. On the third or fourth bar, Dalla
woke and sat up, waking Zinganna, and blinked at him perplexedly.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"About 1245," he told her.
"Ohhh! We just got to sleep," she said. "We're both bushed!"
"You had a hard time. Feel all right after your narco-hyp, Zinganna?"
"It wasn't so bad, and I had a nice sleep. And Dalla ... Dr. Hadron, I
mean--"
"Dalla," Vall's wife corrected. "Remember what I told you?"
"Dalla, then," Zinganna smiled. "Dalla gave me some hypno-treatment,
too. I don't feel so badly about Trod, any more."
"Well, look, Zinganna. We're going to have a man impersonate
Councilman Salgath on a telecast. The cosmeticians are making him over
now. Would you find it too painful to meet him, and talk to him?"
"No, I wouldn't mind. I can criticize the impersonation; remember, I
knew Trod very well. You know, I was his hostess, too. I met many of
the people with whom he was associated, and they know me. Would things
look more convincing if I appeared on the telecast with your man?"
"It certainly would; it would be a great help!" he told her
enthusiastically.
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