file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt Ballots and Bandits Second Secretary Relief of the Terran Em- bassy emerged from his hotel into a bunting- draped street crowded with locals: bustling, furry folk with upraised, bushy tails, like over- sized chipmunks, ranging in height from a foot to a yard. A party of placard-carrying marchers, emerging from a side street, jostled their way through the press, briskly ripping down political posters attached to shop walls and replacing them with posters of their own. Their move was immediately countered by a group of leaflet distributors who set about applying mustaches, beards, and crossed eyes to the new placards. The passers-by joined in cheerfully, some blacking out teeth and add- ing warts to the tips of button noses, others grabbing the brushes from the defacers and 9 10 Keith Laumer applying them to their former owners' faces. Fists flew; the clamor rose. Relief felt a tug at his knee; a small Obero- nian dressed in blue breeches and a spotted white apron looked up at him with wide, wor- ried eyes. "Prithee, fair sir," the small creature piped in a shrill voice, "come quick, ere all is lost!" "What's the matter?" Relief inquired, not- ing the flour smudge on the Oberonian's cheek and the dab of pink icing on the tip of his nose. "Are the cookies burning?" "E'en worse than that, milord—'tis the Tsuggs! The great brutes would dismantle the shop entire! But follow and observe!" The Oberonian whirled and darted away. Retief followed along the steeply sloping cobbled alley between close-pressing houses, his head level with the second-story bal- conies. Through open windows he caught glimpses of dollhouselike interiors, complete with toy tables and chairs and postage-stamp- sized TV screens. The bright-eyed inhabitants clustered at their railings, twittering like spar- rows as he passed. He picked his way with care among the pedestrians crowding the way: twelve-inch Ploots and eighteen-inch Grimbles in purple and red leathers, two-foot Choobs in fringed caps and aprons, lordly three-foot-six- inch Blufs, elegant in ruffles and curled pink wigs. Ahead, he heard shrill cries, a tinkle of breaking glass, a dull thump. Rounding a sharp turn, he came on the scene of action. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (1 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt Before a shop with a sign bearing a crude painting of a salami, a crowd had gathered, RETIEF OF THE CDT 11 ringing in a group of half a dozen giant Oberonians of a type new to Retief: swagger- ing dandies in soiled silks, with cruelly cropped tails, scimitars slung at their waists'—if crea- tures of the approximate shape of tenpins can be said to have waists. One of the party held the bridles of their mounts—scaled, spike- maned brutes resembling gaily painted rhi- noceri, but for their prominent canines and long, muscular legs. Two more of the over- sized locals were busy with crowbars, lever- ing at the lintel over the shop doorway. Another pair were briskly attacking the adjacent wall with sledge hammers. The sixth, distinguished by a scarlet sash with a pistol thrust through it, stood with folded arms, smiling a sharp- toothed smile at the indignant mob. " 'Tis the pastry and ale shop of Binkster Druzz, my granduncle twice removed!" Relief's diminutive guide shrilled. "A little lighthearted destruction in the course of making one's po- litical views clear is all very well—but these pirates would reduce us to penury! Gramercy, milord, canst not impede the brutes?" He swarmed ahead, clearing a path through the onlookers. The red-sashed one, noticing Retief s approach, unfolded his arms, letting one hand linger near the butt of the pistol—a Groaci copy of a two-hundred-year-old Concordiat sliver-gun, Retief noted. "Close enough, Off-worlder," the Tsugg said in a somewhat squeaky baritone. "What would ye here? Yer hutch lieth in the next street yonder." Retief smiled gently at the bearlike Oberonian, 12 Keith Laumer who loomed over the crowd, his eyes almost on a level with Relief's own, his bulk far greater. "I want to buy a jelly doughnut," the Terran said. "Your lads seem to be blocking the doorway." "Aroint thee, Terry; seek refreshment else- where. Being somewhat fatigued with cam- paigning, I plan to honor this low dive with my custom; my bullies must needs enlarge the door to comport with my noble dimensions." "That won't be convenient," Retief said smoothly. "When I want a jelly doughnut I want it now." He took a step toward the door; file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (2 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt the pistol jumped at him. The other Tsuggs were gathering around, hefting crowbars. "Ah-ah," Relief cautioned, raising a finger— and at the same moment swung his foot in a short arc that ended just under the gunhandler's knee joint. The victim emitted a sharp yap and leaned forward far enough for his jaw to intersect the course of Relief's left fist. Retief palmed the gun deftly as the Tsugg staggered backward into the arms of his companions. "Aroint thee, lads," the giant muttered re- proachfully to his supporters, shaking his head dazedly. "We've been boon drinking chums these six Lesser Moons, and this is the first time ye've give me any of the good stuff...." "Spread out, lads," one of the Tsuggs or- dered his companions. "We'll pound this knave into a thin paste." "Better relax, gentlemen," Retief suggested. "This gun is messy at short range." "An' I mistake me not," one of the crowbar wielders said, eyeing Retief sourly, "ye're one RETIEF OF THE CDT 13 of the Outworld bureaucrats, here to connive in the allocation of loot, now the Sticky-fingers have gone." "Ambassador Clawhammer prefers to refer to his role as refereeing the elections," Retief corrected. "Aye," the Tsugg nodded, "that's what I said. So how is it ye're interfering with the free democratic process by coshing Dir Blash in the midst of exercising his voice in local affairs?" "We bureaucrats are a mild lot," Retief clar- ified, "unless someone gets between us and our jelly doughnuts." Red-sash was weaving on his feet, shaking his head. " 'Tis a scurvy trick," he said blur- rily, "sneaking a concealed anvil into a friendly little six-to-one crowbar affray." "Let's go," one of the others said, "ere he produces a howitzer from his sleeve." The banditti mounted their wild-eyed steeds amid much snorting and tossing of fanged heads. "But we'll not forget yer visage, Outworlder," another promised. "I wot well we'll meet again—and next time we'll be none so lenient." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (3 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt A hubbub of pleased chatter broke out among the lesser Oberonians as the party passed from sight. "Milord hath saved Greatuncle Binkster's fried fat this day," the small being who had enlisted Relief's aid cried. The Terran leaned over, hands on knees, which put his face on a level only a foot or two above that of the little fellow. "Haven't I seen you before?" he asked. 14 Keith Laumer "Certes, milord—until an hour since, I eked out a few coppers as third assistant pastrycook in the inn yonder, assigned to the cupcake division, decorative-icing branch." He sighed. "My specialty was rosebuds—but no need to burden Your Grace with my plaint." "You lost your job?" Relief inquired. "Aye, that did I—but forsooth, 'tis but a trifling circumstance, in light of what I o'er- heard ere the hostler bade me hie from the premises forthwith!" "Let's see, your name is ... ?" "Prinkle, milord. Ipstitch Prinkle IX, at your service." The Twilpritt turned as a slightly plumper, grayer version of himself bustled up, bobbing his head and twitching his ears in a manner expressive of effusive gratitude. "And this, milord, is Uncle Binkster, in the flesh." "Your sarvent, sir," Uncle Binkster squeaked, mopping at his face with a large striped hand- kerchief. "Wouldst honor me by accepting a cooling draft of pring-lizard milk and a lardy- tart after milord's exertions?" "In sooth, Uncle, he needs something stronger than whey," Prinkle objected. "And in sooth, the Plump Sausage offers fine ale—if Your Grace can manage the approaches," he added, comparing Relief's six-foot-three with the doorway. "I'll turn sideways," Relief reassured the Oberonian. He ducked through, was led across the crowded room by a bustling eighteen- inch tapman to a comer table, where he was able to squeeze himself onto a narrow bench against the wall. RETIEF OF THE CDT 15 "Whatll it be, gents?" the landlord inquired. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (4 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Under the circumstances, I'll stick to small beer," Retief said. "Ale for me," Uncle Binkster said. " "Tis vice, perchance, to tipple ere lunchtime, but with Tsuggs roaming the Quarter battering down walls, one'd best tipple while opportu- nity presents itself." "A sound principle," Retief agreed. "Who are these Tsuggs, Uncle Binkster?" "Lawless rogues, down from the high crags for easy pickings," the elderly baker replied with a sigh. "After you Terrans sent the Groaci packing, we thought all our troubles were over. Alas, I fear me 'tis not the case. So soon as the ruffians got the word the Five-eyes were pull- ing out, they came swarming down out of the hills like zing-bugs after a jam-wagon—'tis plain they mean to elect their ruffianly chief, Hoobrik the Uncouth. Bands of them roam the city, and the countryside as well, terroriz- ing the voters—" He broke off as the landlord placed a foaming three-inch tankard before Retief. "Away with that thimble, Squirmkin!" he exclaimed. "Our guest requires a heartier bumper than that!" " 'Tis an Emperor-sized mug," the landlord said, "but I allow his dimensions dwarf it. Mayhap I can knock the top out of a hogs- head ..." He hurried away. "Pray, don't mistake me, milord," Uncle Binkster resumed. "Like any patriot, I rejoiced to see the Sticky-fingers go, leaving the con- duct of Oberonian affairs to Oberonians. But 16 Keith Laumer who'd have guessed we normal-sized chaps would at once be subjected to depredations by our own oversized kith and kin exceeding anything the invaders ever practiced!" "A student of history might have predicted it," Relief pointed out, "But I agree: Being pushed around by local hoodlums is even less satisfying than being exploited from afar." "Indeed so," Prinkle agreed. "In the case of foreigners one can always gain a certain relief by hurling descriptive epithets, mocking their outlandish ways, and blaming everything on their inherent moral leprosy—an awkward technique to use on one's relatives." The landlord returned, beaming, with a quart-sized wooden container topped by a re- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (5 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt spectable head. Relief raised it in salute and drank deep. "And if what my nephew o'erheard be any indication," Uncle Binkster went on, wiping foam from his whiskers, "the worst is yet to come. Hast related all to our benefactor, lad?" "Not yet. Uncle." Prinkle turned to Relief. "I was sweeping up crumbs in the VIP break- fast room, my mind on other matters, when I heard the word 'Tsugg' bandied among the company still sitting at table. I cocked an auricle, thinking to hear the scoundrels roundly denounced, only to catch the intelligence that their chief, that brawling bravo Hoobrik, rep- resenting himself to be spokesman and natural leader of all Oberon, withal, hath demanded audience of His Impressiveness, Ambassador Clawhammer! 'Twas but natural that I under- took to disabuse Their Lordships of this im- RETIEF OF THE CDT 17 pertinent notion, accidentally overturning a pot of chocolate in process thereof—" "Alas, my nephew is at times too enthusi- astic in his espousal of his views," Uncle Binkster put in. "Though 'tis beyond dispute, in this instance he was sorely tried." "In sooth, so was His Honor, Mr. Magnan, when the cocoa landed in his lap," Prinkle admitted. "Happily, 'twas somewhat cooled by long standing." "A grotesque prospect," Uncle Binkster ru- minated. "Those scapegrace villains lording it over us honest folk! Perish the thought, Sir Retief! I trow I'd sooner have the Five-eyes back!" "At least they maintained a degree of con- trol over the ne'er-do-wells," Prinkle said, "re- stricting them to their hills and caves." "As will we, lad, once the election is con- summated," Uncle Binkster reminded the youth. "Naturally, we Twilpritts stand ready to assume the burden of policing the rabble, as is only right and natural, so soon as our slate is elected, by reason of our superior virtues—" "Hark not to the old dodderer's maunder- ings. Giant," a tiny voice peeped from the next table. A miniature Oberonian, no more than nine inches tall, raised his one-ounce glass in salute. "We Chimberts, being Nature's noblemen, are of course divinely appointed to a position of primacy among these lumbering file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (6 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt brutes, saving your presence, milord—" "Dost hear a dust-cricket chirping in the woodwork?" a medium-sized Oberonian with Keith Laumer 18 black circles resembling spectacles around his eyes inquired loudly from three tables away. " 'Twere plain e'en to an Outworlder that we Choobs are the rightful inheritors of the man- tle of superiority. Once in office we'll put an end to such public rantings." "You in office?" Prinkle yelped. "O'er my dead corse, varlet!" He leaped up, slopping beer as he cocked his arm to peg the mug at the offender. "Stay, Nephew!" Uncle Binkster restrained the youth. "Pay no heed to the wretch. Doubt- less he's in his cups—" "Drunk, am I, you old sot!" the Choob yelled, overturning the table as he leaped up, grab- bing for the hilt of his foot-long sword. "I'll ha' a strip o' thy wrinkled hide for that allegation—" His threat was cut off abruptly as a tankard, hurled from across the room, clipped him over the ear, sending him reeling into the next table, whose occupants leaped up with indignant shouts and flailing fists. "Gentlemen, time, time!" the landlord wailed, before diving behind the bar amid a barrage of pewter. Retief finished his beer in a long swallow, and rose, looming over the battle raging about his knees. "A pleasure, gentlemen," he addressed the room at large. "I hate to leave such a friendly gathering, but Staff Meeting time is here." "Farewell, Sir Retief," Prinkle panted from under the table, where he grappled with a pale-furred local of about his own weight. "Call around any time for a drop and a bit of friendly political chat." RETIEF OF THE CDT 19 "Thanks," Retief said. "If things get too slow in the frontline trenches I'll remember your invitation." 2 As Retief entered the conference room—a converted packing room in the former ware- house temporarily housing the Terran Mis- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (7 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt sion to the newly liberated planet Oberon— First Secretary Magnan gave him a sour look. "Well—here you are at last. I'd begun to fear you'd lingered to roister with low com- panions in your usual manner." "Not quite my usual manner," Retief cor- rected. "We'd barely started to roister when I remembered Staff Meeting. By the way, what do you know about a fellow called Hoobrik the Uncouth?" Magnan looked startled. "Why, that name is known only to a handful of us in the inner security circle," he said in a lowered tone, glancing about. "Who leaked it to you, Retief?" "A few hundred irate locals. They didn't seem to know it was a secret." "Well, whatever you do, act surprised when the Ambassador mentions it," Magnan cau- tioned his junior as they took seats at the long table. "My," he went on as the shouts of the crowd outside the building rose to a thunder- ous level, "how elated the locals are, now they realize we've relieved them of the bur- dens of Groaci overlordship! Hear their merry cries!" 20 Keith Lawner "Remarkable," Retief agreed. "They have a better command of invective than the Groaci themselves." "Why, Wilbur," Magnan said as Colonel Saddlesore, the Military Attache, slipped into the chair beside him, avoiding his glance. "However did you get that alarming discolor- ation under your eye?" "Quite simple, actually." The Colonel bit off his words like bullets. "I was struck by a thrown political slogan." "Well!" Magnan sniffed. "There's no need for recourse to sarcasm." "The slogan," Saddlesore amplified, "was inscribed on the rind of a bham-bham fruit of the approximate size and weight of a well-hit cricket ball." "I saw three small riots myself on the way into the office," the Press Attache said in a pleased tone. "Remarkable enthusiasm these locals show for universal sufferage." "I think it's time, however," the Counselor put in ponderously, "that someone explained to them that the term 'political machine' does file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (8 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt not necessarily refer to medium tank." The chatter around the long table cut off abruptly as Ambassador Clawhammer, a small, pink-faced man with an impressive paunch, entered the room, glowered at his staff as they rose, waved them to their seats as he waited for silence. "Well, gentlemen"—he looked around the table—"what progress have you to report anent the preparation of the populace for the bal- loting?" RETIEF OF THE CDT 21 A profound silence ensued. "What about you, Chester?" Clawhammer addressed the Counselor. "I seem to recall instructing you to initiate classes in parlia- mentary procedure among these riffraff—that is to say, among the free citizens of Oberon." "I tried, Mr. Ambassador. I tried," Chester said sadly. "They didn't seem to quite grasp the idea. They chose up sides and staged a pitched battle for possession of the chair." "Ah—I can report a teensy bit of progress in my campaign to put across the idea of one man, one vote," a slender-necked Political Of- ficer spoke up. "They got the basic idea, all right ..." He paused. "The only trouble was, they immediately deduced the corollary: One less man, one less vote." He sighed. "Luckily, they were evenly matched, so no actual votes were lost." "You might point out the corollary to the corollary," Retief suggested. "The lighter the vote, the smaller the Post Office." "What about your assigned task of voter registration, eh, Magnan?" the Chief of Mis- sion barked. "Are you reporting failure too?" "Why, no, indeed, sir, not exactly failure; at least not utter failure; it's too soon to announce that—" "Oh?" The Ambassador looked ominous. "When do you think would be an appropriate time? After disaster strikes?" "I'd like to propose a rule limiting the num- ber of political parties to P minus 1, P being the number of voters," Magnan said hastily. 22 Keith Laumer "Otherwise we run the risk that no one gets a plurality." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (9 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "No good, Magnan," the Counselor for PR Affairs spoke up. "We don't want to risk a charge of meddling. However," he added thoughtfully, "we might just up the nomina- tion fee to a figure sufficiently astronomical to keep the trash out—that is, to discourage the weakly motivated." "I don't know, Irving." The Econ Officer ran his fingers through his thinning hair in a gesture of frustration. "What we really need is to prune the ranks of the voters more dras- tically. Now, far be it from me to propose strong-arm methods—but what if we tried out a modified Grandfather Rule?" "Say—a touch of the traditional might be in order at that, Oscar," the Political Officer agreed tentatively. "Just what did you have in mind?" "Actually, I haven't worked out the details; but how about limiting the franchise to those who have grandfathers? Or possibly grand- children? Or even both?" "Gentlemen!" Ambassador Clawhammer cut short the debate. "We must open our sights! The election promises to degenerate into a debacle of ruinous proportions, career-wise, unless we break through with a truly fresh approach!" He paused impressively. "Fortunately," he continued in the modest tones of Caesar accepting the crown, "I have evolved such an approach." He raised a hand in kindly remonstrance at the chorus of congratu- lations that broke out at his announcement. RETIEF OF THE CDT 23 "It's clear, gentlemen, that what is needed is the emergence of a political force which will weld together the strands of Oberonian political coloration into a unified party capable of seating handy majorities. A force conversant with the multitudinous benefits which would stem from a sympathetic attitude toward Ter- ran interests in the Sector." "Yes, Chief," an alert underling from the Admin Section took his cue. "But, gosh, who could possibly produce such a miracle from the welter of divergent political creeds here on Oberon, which they're at practically swords' points with each other over each and every question of policy, both foreign and domestic?" Clawhammer nodded acknowledgment. "Your question is an acute one, Dimplick. Happily, file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (10 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt the answer is at hand. I have made contact, through confidential channels, with a native leader of vast spiritual influence who bids fair to fulfill the role to perfection." He paused to allow the staff to voice spontaneous expressions of admiration, then raised a palm for silence. "While 'Golly' and 'Wow!' are perhaps less elegant effusions than one might logically ex- pect from an assemblage of senior career dip- lomats," he said sternly, but with a redeeming twinkle in his small, red-rimmed eyes, "I'll overlook the lapse this time on the basis of your obvious shock at receiving such glad tid- ings after your own abysmal failures to pro- duce any discernible progress." "Heavens, sir, may we know the name of this messiah?" Magnan chirped. "When do we get to meet him?" 24 Keith Laumer "Curious that you should employ that par- ticular term with reference to Hoobrik," Claw- hammer said complacently. "At this moment, the guru is meditating in the mountains, sur- rounded by his chelas, or disciples, known as Tsuggs in the local patois." "Did you say ... Hoobrik?" Magnan queried uncertainly. "Goodness, what a coincidence that he should have the same name as that ruffian of a bandit chief who had the unmiti- gated effrontery to send one of his strong-arm men to threaten Your Excellency!" Clawhammer's pink features deepened to a dull magenta which clashed sharply with his lime-green early-late-mid-aftemoon hemi-demi- semi-informal seersucker dickey-suit. "I fear, Magnan," he said in a tone like a tire iron striking flesh, "that you've absorbed a num- ber of erroneous impressions. His Truculence, Spiritual Leader Hoobrik, dispatched an em- issary, it's true, to propose certain accommo- dations sphere-of-influence-wise; but to proceed from that circumstance to an inference that I have yielded to undue pressures is an un- warranted speculative leap!" "Possibly I just misinterpreted his messen- ger's phraseology, sir," Magnan said with a tight little smile. "It didn't seem to me that 'foreign bloodsuckers' and 'craven paper-push- ers' sounded all that friendly." " 'IPBMs may fry our skins, but words will never hurt us,' eh, sir?" the Econ Officer piped brightly, netting himself a stab of the Ambas- sadorial eye. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (11 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Still, it's rather strong language," Colonel RETIEF OF THE CDT 25 Saddlesore spoke up to fill the conversational gap. "But I daresay you put the fellow in his place, eh, Mr. Ambassador?" "Why, as to that, I've been pondering the precisely correct posture to adopt vis-a-vis the Tsuggs, protocol-wise. I confess for a few mo- ments I toyed with the idea of a beefed-up 804-B: Massive Dignity, with overtones of Leashed Ire; but cooler counsels soon pre- vailed." "How about a 764, sir?" the Econ Officer essayed: "Amused Contempt, with just a hint of Unpleasant Surprises in the Offing?" "Too subtle," Colonel Saddlesore grunted. "What about the old standby, 26-A?" "Oh, the old 'Threat to Break Off Talks' ploy, eh, Wilbur? Embellished with a side is- sue of Tableshape Dispute, I assume?" "Gentlemen!" Clawhammer called the con- ference to heel. "You forget that the date of the elections is rushing toward us! We've no time for traditional maneuvers. The problem is simple: how best to arrive at a meeting of the minds with the guru." "Why not just call him in and offer to back him in a take-over, provided he plays ball?" the PR Chief proposed bluntly. "I assume, Irving," Clawhammer said into the shocked silence, "that what you actually meant to suggest was that we give His Trucu- lence assurances of Corps support in his ef- forts to promote Oberonian welfare, in the event of his securing the confidence of the electorate, as evinced by victory at the polls, of course." 26 Keith Laumer "Yeah, something like that," Irving mut- tered, sliding down in his chair. "Now," Clawhammer said, "the question re- mains, how best to tender my compliments to His Truculence, isolated as he is in his remote fastness ..." "Why, simple enough, sir," Magnan said. "We just send a messenger along with an in- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (12 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt vitation to tea. Something impressive in a gold-embossed, I'd suggest." "I understand this fellow Hoobrik has ten thousand bloodthirsty cutthroats—ah, that is, wisdom-hungry students—at his beck and call," the Econ Officer contributed. "They say any- body who goes up there comes back with his tail cropped." "Small hazard, since we Terries have no tails," Magnan sniffed. "I've got a funny feeling they'd figure out something else to crop," Oscar retorted sharply. "Am I to infer, Magnan, you're volunteering to convey the bid?" Clawhammer inquired blandly. "Me, sir?" Magnan paled visibly. "Heavens, I'd love to—except that I'm under observa- tion for possible fourth-degree cocoa bums." "Fourth-degree burns?" Colonel Saddlesore wondered aloud. "I'd like to see that. I've heard of first, second, and third degree, but—" "The symptoms are invisible to lay inspec- tion," Magnan snapped. "Additionally, my asthma is aggravated by high altitudes." "By gad," Colonel Saddlesore whispered to his neighbor, "I'd like a chance to confront these fellows ..." RETIEF OF THE CDT 27 "Better wear your armor, Wilbur," his con- fidant replied. "From all reports, they weigh in at three hundred pounds, and wear six-foot cutlasses, with which they lay about them freely when aroused. And they say the sight of a Terry arouses them worse than anything." "... but, as I was about to say, my duties require that I hole up in my office for the foreseeable future," the Colonel finished. "Cutlasses, you say?" the Econ Officer pricked up his ears. "Hmm. Might be a market here for a few zillion up-to-date hand weapons— for police use only, of course." "Capital notion, Depew." The Political Offi- cer nodded approvingly. "Nothing like a little firepower to bring out the natural peace-loving tendencies of the people." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (13 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Now, gentlemen—let us avoid giving voice to any illiberal doctrines," Clawhammer said sharply. "Our only motive, let us remember, is to bring the liberated populace to terms with the political realities—in this case, the obvious need for a man on horseback—or should I say a Tsugg on Vorchback?" The Terran envoy smiled indulgently at his whimsy. "I have a question, Mr. Ambassador," Relief said. "Since we're here to supervise free elec- tions, why don't we let the Oberonians work out their own political realities?" Clawhammer looked blank. "Just-ah-how do you mean?" the Political Officer prompted uneasily. "Why don't we let them nominate whoever they want, and vote for any candidate they like?" Retief explained. 28 Keith Laumer "I suggest you forget these radical notions, young fellow," Clawhammer said sternly. "These free elections will be conducted in the way that free elections have always been con- ducted. And now that I've considered the mat- ter, it occurs to me it might be valuable experience for you to pay the proposed call on His Truculence. It might serve to polish your grasp of protocol a trifle." "But, sir," Magnan spoke up. "I need Mr. Relief to help me do the Consolidated Re- port of Delinquent Reports Report—" "You'll have to manage alone, I fear, Mag- nan. And now, back to the ramparts of de- mocracy, gentlemen! As for you Retief ..." The Ambassador fixed the latter with a poniard- sharp eye: "I suggest you comport yourself with a becoming modesty among the Tsuggs. I should dislike to have a report of any unfor- tunate incident." "I'll do my best to see that no such report reaches you, sir," Retief said cheerfully. 3 The green morning sun of Oberon shone down warmly as Relief, mounted on a wiry Struke, a slightly smaller and more docile cousin of the fierce Vorch tamed by the Tsuggs, rode forth from the city gates. Pink and yel- low borms warbled in the treetops; the elu- sive sprinch darted from grass tuft to grass tuft. The rhythmic whistling of doody-bugs RETIEF OF THE CDT 29 file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (14 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt crying to their young supplied a somnolent backdrop to the idyll. Retief passed through a region of small, tidy farms, where sturdy Doob peasants gaped from the furrows. The forest closed in as the path wound upward into the foothills. In midafter- noon he tethered the Struke and lunched beside a waterfall on pate sandwiches and sparkling Bacchus Black from a cold-flask. He was just finishing off his mousse eclair when a two- foot-long steel arrow whistled past his ear to bury itself six inches in the dense blue wood of a nunu tree behind him. Retief rose casually, yawned, stretched, took out a vanilla dope stick and puffed it alight, at the same time scanning the underbrush. There was a quick movement behind a clump of foon bushes; a second bolt leaped past him, almost grazing his shoulder, to rattle away in the brush. Appearing to notice nothing, Retief took a leisurely step toward the nunu tree, slipped suddenly behind it. With a swift mo- tion, he grasped a small, limber branch grow- ing out at waist height on his side of the two-foot bole, bent it down and pegged the tip to the shaggy, porous bark, using the match- sized dope stick to pin it in place. Then he moved quickly off, keeping the tree between himself and the unseen archer, to the conceal- ment of a dense patch of shrubbery. A minute passed; a twig popped. A bulky, tattooed Tsugg appeared, a vast, dumpy fig- ure clad in dirty silks, holding a short, thick, recurved bow clamped in one boulderlike fist, a quarrel nocked, the string drawn. The da- 30 Keith Laumer coit tiptoed forward, jumped suddenly around the tree. Finding his quarry fled, he turned, stood with his back to the tree peering into the undergrowth. At that moment, the bent branch, released by the burning of the dope stick, sprang out- ward, ramming the astounded bowman in the seat of his baggy green velveteen trousers. The arrow smacked into the dirt at his feet as he jumped, then stood rigid. "Don't strike, sir!" he urged in a plaintive tenor. <( 'Twas the older lads put me up to it..." Relief strolled forth from shelter, nodded file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (15 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt easily to the Tsugg, plucked the bow from his nerveless grip. "Nice workmanship," he said, inspecting the weapon. "Groaci trade goods?" "Trade goods?" the Tsugg said with a note of indignation. "Just because yer partner has a dirk at me back's no cause to make mockery of me. I plundered it from the Five-eyes all open and aboveboard, so help me." "Sorry," Retief said. He withdrew the ar- row from the loam, fitted it to the bow exper- imentally. "You're not by chance a member of Hoobrik's band, are you?" he inquired offhandedly. "Too right it's not by chance," the Tsugg said emphatically. "I went through the Or- deal, same's the other lads." "Lucky we met," Retief said. "I'm on my way to pay a call on His Truculence. Can you lead me to him?" The Tsugg straightened his 290-pound bulk. RETIEF OF THE CDT 31 "Tell yer crony to do his worst," he said with a small break in his voice. "Fim Gloob's not the Tsugg to play the treacher." "It wasn't exactly treachery I had in mind," Retief demurred. "Just ordinary diplomacy." "Yer threats will avail ye naught," Fim Gloob declared. "I see what you mean," Retief said. "Still, there should be some way of working this out." "No outsider goes to the camp of Hoobrik but as a prisoner." The Tsugg rolled his shiny black eyes at the Terran. "Ah, sir—would ye mind asking yer sidekick not to poke so hard? I fear me he'll rip me weskit, stole for me by me aged mums it were, a rare keepsake." "Prisoner, eh, Fim? By the way, I don't have a sidekick." "That being the way of it," Fim Gloob said carefully, after a short, thoughtful pause, "who'd be the villain holding the blade to me kip glands?" "As far as I know," Retief said candidly, "there's nobody here but you and me." The Tsugg turned his head cautiously, peered file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (16 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt behind him. With a grunt of annoyance, he snapped a finger at the offending bough. "Me and me pveractive imagination," he snorted. "And now," he went on, turning to Retief with a scowl— "Remember, I still have the bow," Retief said pleasantly. "And a mort o' good it'll do ye," Fim snarled, advancing. "Only a Tsugg born and bred has the arm to draw that stave!" "Oh?" Retief set the arrow and with an 32 Keith Laumer easy motion pulled until the arrowhead rested against the bow, the latter being bent into a sharp curve. Another inch—and the stout lam- inated wood snapped with a sharp twang! "I see what you mean," Retief said. "But then the Groaei always did produce flimsy merchandise." "You ... you broke it!" Fim Gloob said in tones of deep dismay. "Never mind—I'll steal yOu a new one. We have some ladies' models in the Recreation Kits that ought not to overstrain you." "But—I'm reckoned the stoutest bowman in the band!" "Don't give it another thought, Fim. They'll love you when you bring in a live Terry, singlehanded." "Who, me?" "Of course. After all, I'm alone and unarmed. How could I resist?" "Aye—but still—" "Taking me in as a prisoner would look a lot better than having me saunter in on my own and tell Hoobrik you showed me the route." "Wouldst do such a dirty trick?" Fim gasped. "I wouldst—unless we start immediately," Retief assured the Tsugg. "O.K." Fim sighed. "I guess I know when I'm licked. I mean when you're licked. Let's go, prisoner. And let's hope His Truculence is file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (17 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt in a good mood. Otherwise, he'll clap ye on the rack and have the whole tale out of ye in a trice!" RETIEF OF THE CDT 4 33 A few dozen heavyweights lazing about the communal cooking pot or sprawling in the shade under the striped awnings stretched be- tween the trees looked up in mild interest as Retief appeared on Strukeback, Fim Gloob behind him astride his Vorch, glowering fero- ciously as he verbally prodded the lone Ter- ran forward. "Ho, that's far enough, varlet!" he roared. "Dismount, whilst I seek instruction o' His Truculence whether to h'ist ye out of hand, or ha' a bit o' sport wi' ye first!" "Ha, what be this, Gloob?" a bulky outlaw boomed as Retief swung down from the sad- dle. "An Off-worlder, I trow!" " 'Tis no Oberonian, 'tis plain," another of- fered. "Mayhap 'tis a two-eyed variety o' Five-eyes." "Avaunt ye, rogues!" Fim yelled. "Clear the way! I've fetched this Terry here to divert the great Hoobrik wi' his saucy sayings!" "Saucy sayings, is it! I've had enough o' yer own saucy sayings, Gloob! Methinks I'll split the creature on the spot!" The speaker drew a giant cutlass with a whistle of honed metal. "Stay, Zub Larf!" a mountainous Tsugg in soiled yellow robes bellowed. " 'Tis but dull, idling here in camp. I say let's see a sample o' the oddling's tricks, ere we slit his weasand." "Here, what passes?" a familiar baritone cut through the clamor. A large Tsugg in a red sash pushed through the mob, which gave way grudgingly, with much muttering. The 34 Keith Laumer newcomer halted with a jerk when his eye fell on Retief. "Methinks," he said, "I've seen you before, sirrah." "We've met," Relief acknowledged. "Though all you Terries look alike to me ..." Dir Blash fingered his jaw gingerly. "Me- seemeth 'twas in the Street of the Sweet- makers ..." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (18 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "So it was." "Aha! I've got it!" Dir Blash clapped Retief on the shoulder. "My boon companion! Ah, bullies," he addressed his fellows, "this Terry gave me a shot of something with a kick like a Vorch—though for the life of me I can't recall the precise circumstances. How wert thou yclept again, sirrah?" "Retief. Lucky you have the kind of mem- ory you do, Dir Blash; your compatriots were just debating the best method of putting me out of my misery." "Say you so?" Dir Blash looked around threateningly, his hand on the hilt of his cut- lass. "Nobody murders my drinking buddies but me, wot thee well, me hearties!" He turned back to Retief. "Say, you wouldn't chance to have any more of the same, would you?" "I'm saving it for a special occasion," Retief said. "Well, what could be more special than a reprieve from being staved out on a zing-wasp hive, eh?" "We'll celebrate later," Retief said. "Right RETIEF OF THE CDT 35 now I'd appreciate a short interview with His Truculence." "If I use my influence to get you in, wilt let me have another sample later?" "If things work out as they usually do," Retief said, "I think you can be sure of it." "Then come along, Dir Tief. I'll see what I can do." 5 Hoobrik the Uncouth, lounging in a ham- mock under a varicolored canopy, gazed in- differently at Retief as Dir Blash made the introductions. He was an immense Tsugg, above the average height of his kind, his obe- sity draped in voluminous beaded robes. He selected a large green berry from a dented sil- ver bowl at his elbow, shook exotic salts over it from a heavy gold saltshaker, and popped it into his mouth. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (19 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "So?" he grunted, spitting the seeds over the side. "Why disturb my meditations with trifles? Dispose of the creature in any way that amuses you, Blash—but save the head. I'll impale it on a pike and give it to the Terry chieftain—gift-wrapped, of course." Dir Blash nodded, scratching himself under the ribs. "Well, thus doth the tart disinte- grate, Retief," he said in tones of mild regret. "Let's go-" "I don't want to be a spoilsport. Your Tru- culence," Retief spoke up, "but Ambassador 36 Keith Laumer Clawhammer only allows his staff to be de- capitated at Tuesday morning Staff Meetings." "Staff Meetings?" Hoobrik wondered aloud. "Is that anything like a barbecue?" "Close," Relief agreed, "Quite often a diplo- mat or two are flayed alive and roasted over a slow fire." "Hmm." Hoobrik looked thoughtful. "May- hap I should introduce the custom here. Tis my wish to keep up with the latest trends in government." "In that connection," Relief said, offering the stiff parchment envelope containing the invitation to the reception, "His Excellency the Terrestrial Ambassador Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary presents his compli- ments, and requests me to hand you this." "Eh? What be this?" Hoobrik fingered the document gingerly. "Ambassador Clawhammer requests the honor of your company at a ceremonial affair celebrating the election," Retief explained. "Ceremonial affair?" Hoobrik shifted uneas- ily, causing the hammock to sway danger- ously. "What kind of ceremony?" "Just a small semiformal gathering of kin- dred souls. It gives everyone a chance to show off their clothes and exchange veiled insults face to face." "Waugh! What kind of contest is this? Give me a good hand-to-hand disemboweling con- test any day!" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (20 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "That comes later," Retief said. "It's known as Dropping by the Residence for a Drink After the Party." RETIEF OF THE CDT 37 "It hath an ominous sound," Hoobrik mut- tered. "Is it possible you Terries are more ferocious than I'd suspected?" "Ha!" Dir Blash put in. "I myself dispatched half a dozen of the Off-worlders but this mom, when they sought to impede my entrance to a grog shop in the village." "So?" Hoobrik yawned. "Too bad. For a moment, things were beginning to look inter- esting." He tore a corner off the gold-edged invitation and used it to poke at a bit of fruit rind wedged between his teeth. "Well, off with you, Blash—unless you want to play a fea- tured role at my first Staff Meeting." "Come, Terry," the red-sashed Tsugg growled, reaching for Relief's arm. "I just remembered the part of yesterday's carouse that had slipped my mind." "I think," Retief said, evading the subchief's grab, "it's time for that jolt I promised you." He stepped in close and rammed a pair of pile-driver punches to Dir Slash's midriff, laced a hard right to the jaw as the giant doubled over and fell past him, out cold. "Here!" Hoobrik yelled. "Is that any way to repay my hospitality?" He stared down at his fallen henchman. "Dir Blash, get up, thou ma- lingerer, and avenge my honor!" Dir Blash groaned; one foot twitched; he settled back with a snore. "My apologies. Your Truculence," Retief said, easing the Groaci pistol from inside his shirt. "Protocol has never been my strong suit. Hav- ing committed a faux pas, I'd best be on my way. Which route would be least likely to 38 Keith Laumer result in the demise of any of Your Trucu- lence's alert sentries?" "Stay, Outworlder! Wouldst spread tidings of this unflattering event abroad, to the detri- ment of my polling strength?" "Word might leak out," Relief conceded. "Especially if any of your troops get in my way." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (21 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt " Tis a shame not to be borne!" Hoobrik said hoarsely. "All Oberon knoweth that only a Tsugg can smite another Tsugg senseless." He looked thoughtful. "Still, if the molehill will not come to Meyer, Meyer must to the molehill, as the saying goeth. Since thou hast in sooth felled my liegeman, it follows you must be raised at once to Tsugghood, legiti- mizing the event after the fact, as it were." "I'd be honored. Your Truculence," Relief said amiably. "Provided, of course. Your Tru- culence authorizes me to convey your gracious acceptance of His Excellency's invitation." Hoobrik looked glum. "Well—we can always loot the Embassy afterward. Very well, Terry— Tsugg-to-be, that is. Done!" The chieftain heaved his bulk from the hammock, stirred Dir Blash with a booted toe, at which the latter groaned and sat up. "Up, sluggard!" Hoobrik roared. "Summon a few varlets to robe me for a formal occa- sion! And my guest will require suitable robes, too." He glanced at Relief. "But don't don them yet, lest they be torn and muddied." "The ceremony sounds rather strenuous," Retief commented. "Not the Ceremony," Hoobrik corrected. RETIEF OF THE CDT 39 "That cometh later. First cometh the Or- deal. If you survive that, I'll have my tailor fit you out as befits a subchief of the Tsugg!" 6 The Ceremonial Site for Ordeal Number One—a clearing on a forested slope with a breathtaking view of the valley below—was crowded with Tsugg tribesmen, good-naturedly quarreling, shouting taunts, offering and ac- cepting wagers and challenges, passing wine- skins from hand to grimy hand. "All right, everybody out of the Ring of the First Trial," Dir Blash shouted, implementing his suggestion with hearty buffets left and right. "Unless ye plan to share the novitiate's hazards." The mountaineers gave ground, leaving an open space some fifty feet in diameter, to the center of which Retief was led. "All right, the least ye can do is give the Outlander breathing space." Dir Blash exhorted the bystanders to edge back another yard. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (22 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Now, Retief—this is a sore trial, 'tis true, but 'twill show you the mettle of us Tsuggs, that we impose so arduous a criterion on oursel's!" He broke off at a sound of crashing in the underbrush. A pair of tribesmen on the outer fringe of the audience flew into the air as if blown up by a mine, as with ferocious snorts, a wild Vorch, seven feet at the shoulder and armed with downcurving tusks, charged from the underbrush. His rush carried him through 40 Keith Laumer the ranks of the spectators, to burst into the inner circle, his short tail whipping, his head tossing as he sought a new target. His in- flamed eye fell on Dir Blash. "Botheration," the latter commented in mild annoyance as the beast lowered its head and charged. Leaning aside, the Tsugg raised a fist the size and weight of a hand ax, brought it down with a resounding brongg! on the car- nivore's skull. The unlucky beast folded in mid-leap, skidded chin-first to fetch up against Reliefs feet. "Nice timing," he remarked. "Ye'd think the brute did it a-purpose, to pestificate a serious occasion," Dir Blash said disapprovingly. "Drag the silly creature away," he directed a pair of Tsuggs. "He'll be broke to harness for his pains. And now," he turned to Relief, "if ye're ready ... ?" Relief smiled encouragingly. "Right, then. The first trial is: Take a deep breath, and hold it for the count of ten!" Dir Blash watched Relief's expression alertly for signs of dismay. Seeing none, he raised a fin- ger disappointedly. "Very well: Inhale!" Relief inhaled. *' Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten," Dir Blash said in a rush, and stared curiously at the Terran, who stood relaxed before him. A few approving shouts rang out, then scat- tered handclaps. "Well," Dir Blash grunted. "You did pretty fair, I suppose, for an Outworlder. Hardly turned blue at all. You pass, I suppose." RETIEF OF THE CDT 41 "Hey," someone called from the front rank file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (23 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt of the gallery. "He's not... ?" "Not still ... ?" someone else queried. "Still holding his breath?" a third Tsugg said wonderingly. "0' course not, lackwits!" Dir Blash bel- lowed. "How could he? E'en Grand Master Cutthroat Dirdir Hooch held out but to the count of twelve!" He looked closely at Relief. "Thou hast indeed resumed respiration ... ?" He murmured. "Of course," Relief reassured the Tsugg. "I was just grandstanding." Dir Blash grunted. "In sooth, I've a feeling ye went a good thirteen, if truth were known," he muttered confidentially. "Hast made a spe- cialty of suffocation?" "Staff Meetings, remember?" Retief prompted. "To be sure." Dir Blash looked disgruntled. "Well, on to the Second Trial. Terry. Ye'll find this one e'en a straiter test of Tsugghood than the last!" He led the way upslope. Relief close behind, the crowd following. The path deteriorated into a rocky gully winding up between near-vertical walls of rock. Pebbles rattled around the party from the crumbling cliffs above as members of the party clam- bered toward choice vantage points. A medium- sized boulder came bounding down from a crag to whistle overhead and crash thunder- ously away among the trees below. The jour- ney ended in a small natural amphitheater, the floor of which was thickly littered with stones of all sizes. The spectators took up po- 42 Keith Laumer sitions around the periphery above, as peb- bles continued to clatter down around the tester and testee, who stood alone at the cen- ter of the target. A head-sized rock smashed down a yard from Relief. A chunk the size of a grand piano poised directly above him gave an ominous rumble and slid downward six inches amid a shower of gravel. "What happens if one of those scores a bull's eye on the candidate?" Retief inquired. "It's considered a bad omen," Dir Blash said. "Drat the pesky motes!" he added as a small fragment bounded off the back of his neck. "These annoyances,detract from the so- lemnity of the occasion!" "On the contrary," Relief demurred politely. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (24 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "I think they add a lot of interest to the situation." "Umm. Mayhap." Dir Blash gazed absently upward, moving his head slightly to avoid being brained by a baseball-sized missile. "Now, Outworlder!" he addressed Retief, "pre- pare for the moment of truth! Bend over"—he paused impressively—"and touch your toes!" "Do I get to bend my knees?" Retief tem- porized. "Bend whatever you like," Dir Blash said with airy contempt. "I trow this is one feat ye've not practiced at your Ordeal of the Staff Meeting!" "True," Retief conceded. "The closest we come is lifting ourselves by our bootstraps." He assumed a serious expression, bent over, and with a smooth motion, touched his fin- gertips to his toes. RETIEF OF THE CDT 43 "Zounds!" someone called. "He did it in one try!" "Didn't even take a bounce!" another added. Then the applause was general. "Lacking in style," Dir Blash grumbled. "But a pass, I allow. But now you face the Third Ordeal, where yer tricks will do ye no good. Come along." As they moved off, his words were drowned as the stone piano crunched down on the spot he and Retief had just vacated. The route to the Third Site led upward through a narrow cut to emerge on a bare rock slope. Fifty feet away a flat-topped rock spire loomed up from the depths, joined to the main mass of the peak by a meandering ribbon of rock some six inches in width, ex- cept where it narrowed to a knife edge, half- way across. Dir Blash sauntered out across the narrow bridge, gazing around him at the scenery. "A splendid prospect, eh, Retief?" he called over his shoulder. "Look on it well; it may be thy last. What comest next has broken many a strong Tsugg down into a babbling Glert." Retief tried the footing; it held. Keeping his eyes on the platform ahead, he walked quickly across. "Now," Dir Blash said, "you may wish to take a moment to commune with your patron file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (25 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt 44 Keith Laumer devils or whatever it is you Outlanders burn incense to, ere the Third Ordeal lays ye low!" ^ "Thanks, I'm in good shape incantationwise," Retief reassured his inquisitor, "only last night I joined in a toast to the auditors." "In that case ..." Dir Blash pointed im- pressively to a flat stone that lay across two square rocks, the top of which cleared the ground by a good twelve inches. "Leap the obstacle!" the subchief com- manded. "In a single bound, mind you!" Retief studied the hurdle from several an- gles before taking up his position before it. "I see you hesitate," Dir Blash taunted. "Dost doubt thy powers at last, Terry?" "Last year an associate of mine jumped fifty names on the promotion list," Retief said. "Can I do less?" Standing flat-footed, he hopped over the barrier. Turning, he hopped back again. There was a moment of stunned silence. Then pandemonium broke out. Dir Blash hesitated only a moment, then joined in the glad cries. "Congratulations, Dir Tief!" he bellowed, pounding the Terran on the shoulder. "I war- rant an Outworlder of thy abilities would be an embarrassment to all hands, but in sooth thou'rt now a Tsugg of the Tsuggs, and thy attainments are an adornment to our ilk!" 8 "Remarkable," said Hoobrik the Uncouth as he stuffed a handful of sugar-coated green olives into his mouth. "According to Blash RETIEF OF THE CDT 45 here, you went through the Ordeal like a Tsugg to the pavilion born! I may keep you on as bodyguard, Dir Tief, after I get the vote out and myself in." "Coming from Your Truculence, that's praise indeed," Retief said. "Considering your will- ingness to offer yourself as a candidate with- out a whimper." "What's to whimper?" Hoobrik demanded. "After my lads have rounded up more voters than the opposition can muster, I'll be free to fill my pockets as best I may. 'Tis a prospect I face calmly." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (26 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "True," Retief said. "But first there are a few rituals to be gotten past. There's Whistle- stopping, Baby-kissing, Fence-sitting, and Mud-slinging, plus a considerable amount of Viewing-with-Alarm." "Hmm. Hoobrik rubbed his chin thought- fully. "Are these Ordeals the equal of our Rites of Tsugghood, Retief?" "Possibly even worse," Retief solemnly as- sured the chieftain. "Especially if you wear an Indian war bonnet." "Out upon it!" Hoobrik pounded his tan- kard on the table. "A Tsugg fears neither man nor beast!" "But did you ever face a quorum of Women Voters?" Retief countered quickly. "Nay—but my stout lads will ride down all opposition," Hoobrik declared with finality. "I've already made secret arrangements with certain Five-eyed Off-worlders to supply me with all the write-in ballots I need to make everything legal and proper. Once in office, I 46 Keith Laumer can settle down to businesslike looting in an orderly manner." "But remember," Relief cautioned, "you'll be expected to stand on your Party Platform—at least for the first few weeks." "W-weeks?" Hoobrik faltered. "What is this platform. Relief?" "It's a pretty shaky structure," Relief con- fided. "I've never known one to last past the first Legislative Rebuff." "What, yet another Ordeal?" "Don't worry about it, Your Truculence; it seldom goes as far as Impeachment." "Well? Well? Don't keep me in suspense!" Hoobrik roared. "What doth this rite entail?" "This is where your rival politicans get even with you for winning, by charging you with High Crimes and Misdemeanors—" "Stay!" Hoobrik yelled. "Is there no end to these torments?" "Certainly," Retief reassured the aroused leader. "After you retire, you become a States- man, and are allowed out on alternate All Fools' Days to be queried as to your views on file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (27 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt any subject sufficiently trivial to grace the pages of the Sunday Supplements." "Arrrhh!" Hoobrik growled, and drained his mug. "See here, Retief," he said. "On ponder- ing the matter, methinks 'twould be a gra- cious gesture on my part to take second place on the ticket and let a younger Tsugg assume party leadership; you, for example, Blash," he addressed the subchief. "Who, me?" the latter blurted. "Nay, my RETIEP OF THE CDT 47 liege—as I've said before, I am not now and do not intend to be a candidate!" "Who, then?" Hoobrik waved his arms in agitation. "We need a Tsugg who'll appeal to a broad spectrum of voters! A good scimitar- man, for beating down opposition inside the party, a handy club-wielder to bring in the Independents, a cool hand with a dirk, for committee infighting ..." He paused, looking suddenly thoughtful. "Well, I'll leave you gentlemen to look over the lists," Retief said, rising. "May I tell the Ambassador to expect you at the post-election victory reception?" "We'll be there," Hoobrik said. "And I think I have a sure-fire Tsugg standard-bearer in mind to pull in the vote ..." 9 In the varicolored glow of the lights strung in the hedges ringing the former miniature golf course pressed into service as Embassy grounds, the Terran diplomats stood in con- versational clumps across the fairways and greens, glasses in hand, nervously eying the door through which Ambassador Clawham- mer's entrance was expected momentarily. "Gracious, Retief," Magnan said, glancing at his watch, "the first results will be in any moment; I'm all atwitter." "I think we need have no fear of the out- come," Saddlesore stated. "Guru Hoobrik's stu- dents have been particularly active in these 48 Keith Laumer final hours, zealously applying posters to the polling places." "And applying knots to the heads of reluc- tant converts," the Political Officer added. "What I'm wondering is—after Hoobrik's in- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (28 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt auguration, what's to prevent his applying the same techniques to foreign diplomats?" "Tradition, my boy," the Colonel said sooth- ingly. "We may be shot as spies or deported as undesirable aliens; but shaped up by ward heelers, never!" There was a stir across the lawn; Ambassa- dor Clawhammer appeared, ornate in the Bur- gundy cutaway and puce jodhpurs specified by CDT Regs for early evening ceremonial wear. "Well? No word yet?" he stared challengingly at his underlings, accepting one of the four drinks simultaneously thrust at him by alert junior officers. "My private polls indicate an early lead for the Tsugg party, increasing to a commanding majority as the rural counties report." "Commanding is right," Magnan muttered behind his hand. "One of the ruffians had the audacity to order me to hold his gluepot while he affixed a poster to the front door of the Embassy." "What cheek," the Political Officer gasped. "You didn't do it?" "Of course not," Magnan replied haughtily. "He held the gluepot, and / affixed the pla- card." Happy shouts sounded from the direction of the gate; a party of Tsuggs appeared, flam- RETIEF OF THE CDT 49 boyant in pink and yellow, handing out foot- long yellow cigars. A throng of lesser Obero- nians followed, all apparently in good spirits. " 'Tis a landslide victory," one called to the assembly at large. "Break out the wassail bowl!" "Is this official, Depew?" the Ambassador demanded of his Counselor, who arrived at that moment at a trot, waving a sheaf of papers. "I'm afraid so—that is, I'm delighted to con- firm the people's choice," he panted. "It's amazing; the Tsugg candidate polled an abso- lute majority, even in the oppositions' strong- holds! It looks like every voter on the rolls voted the straight Tsugg ticket!" "Certes, Terry," a Grimble confirmed jovi- ally, grabbing two glasses from a passing tray. "We know a compromise candidate when we file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (29 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt see one!" " 'Tis a clear mandate from the people," a Tsugg declaimed. "Hoobrik will be along in a trice to help with sorting out the spoils. As for myself, I'm not greedy; a minor Cabinet post will do nicely." "Out upon thee!" a jovial voice boomed as the Tsugg chieftain swept through the gate flanked by an honor guard of grinning scimitar- bearers. "No undignified rooting at the trough, lads! There's plenty to go around!" "Congratulations, Your Truculence," Ambas- sador Clawhammer cried, advancing with out- stretched hand. "I'm sure that at this moment you're feeling both proud and humble as you point with pride—" 50 Keith Laumer "Humble!" Hoobrik roared. "That's for los- ers, Terry!" "To be sure," Clawhammer conceded the point. "Now, Your Truculence, I don't want to delay the victory celebration, but why don't we just sign this little Treaty of Eternal Peace and Friendship set up to run for five years with a renewal option—" "You'll have to speak to the new Planetary President about that, Terry." The chieftain waved the proffered document away. "As for myself, I have some important drinking to catch up on!" "But I was informed by a usually reliable source"—Clawhammer turned to glare at the Counselor—"that the Tsugg party had carried off all honors!" "True enough! By the way, where is he?" "Where is who?" "Our new Chief Executive, of course—" Hoobrik broke off, pushed past Clawhammer, rushed forward with outstretched arms, nar- rowly missing a small water hazard, to em- brace Retief, who had just appeared on the scene. "Stand aside, Relief," Clawhammer snapped. "I'm in the midst of a delicate negotiation—" " 'Twere meet you employ a more respect- ful tone, Terry," Hoobrik admonished the Am- bassador sternly. "Considering whom you're speaking to!" "Who ... whom I'm speaking to?" Claw- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (30 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt hammer said in bewilderment. "Whom am I speaking to?" RETIEF OF THE CDT 51 "Meet Planetary President Dir Tief," Hoobrik said proudly, waving a hand at Retief. "The winner, and new champion!" 10 "Good lord, Retief." Magnan was the first to recover his speech. "When ... ? How ... ?" "What's the meaning of this?" Clawhammer burst out. "Am I being made sport of?" "Apparently not, Mr. Ambassador," Retief said. "It seems they put me on the ballot as a dark horse—" "You'll be a horse of a darker color before I'm through with you!" Clawhammer yelled— and went rigid as twin scimitars flashed, ended with their edges pressed against his neck. "Bu-but how can a Terran be elected as head of the Tsugg party?" the Political Officer quavered. "President Tief is no Terry, wittold!" Hoobrik corrected. "He's a Tsugg after my own heart!" "But—doesn't the President have to be a natural-bom citizen?" "Art suggesting our President is wmatural- born?" Hoobrik grated. "Why, no—" " 'Tis well. In that case, best you present your credentials at once, and we can get down to business." As Clawhammer hesitated, a prod of the blade at his jugular assisted him in finding his tongue. "Why, ah, Mr. President," he babbled, "er, I 52 Keith Laumer have the honor, et cetera, and will Your Ex- cellency kindly tell Your Excellency's thugs to put those horrible-looking knives away?" His voice rose to a whispered shriek on the last words. "Certainly, Mr. Ambassador," Retief said eas- ily. "Just as soon as we've cleared up a few points in the treaty. I think it would be a good idea if the new Planetary Government has a solemn CDT guarantee of noninterference in file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (31 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt elections from now on ..." "Retief—you wouldn't dare—" At a sharp nudge. Clawhammer yipped. "I mean. of course, my boy, whatever you say." "Also, it would be a good idea to strike out those paragraphs dealing with CDT military advisers, technical experts, and fifty-credit-a- day economists. We Oberonians would prefer to work out our own fates." "Yes—yes—of course, Mr. President! And now—" "And as to the matter of the one-sided trade agreement: Why don't we just scrap that whole section and substitute a free-commerce clause?" "Why—if I agree to that, they'll have my scalp, back in the Department!" Clawhammer choked. "That's better than having it tied to a pole outside my tent," Hoobrik pointed out suc- cinctly. "On the other hand," Retief said, "I think we Tsuggs can see our way clear to supply a modest security force to ensure that nothing violent happens to the foreign diplomats among RETIEF OF THE CDT 53 us as long as they stick to diplomacy, and leave all ordinary crime to us Oberonians." "Agreed!" Clawhammer squeaked. "Where's the pen?" It took a quarter of an hour to delete the offending paragraphs, substitute new word- ing, and affix signatures to the imposing doc- ument establishing formal relations between the Corps Diplomatique Terrestrienne and the Republic of Oberon. When the last length of red tape had been affixed and the last blob of sealing wax applied, Retief called for attention. "Now that Terran-Oberonian relations are off on a sound footing," he said, "I feel it's only appropriate that I step down, leaving the field clear for a new election. Accordingly, gentlemen, I hereby resign the office of Presi- dent in favor of my Vice-president, Hoobrik." Amid the clamor that broke out, Clawham- mer made his way to confront Retief. "You blundered at last, sir!" he hissed in a voice aquiver with rage. "You should have clung to your spurious position long enough to have gotten a head start for the Galactic file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (32 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt periphery! I'll see you thrown into a dungeon so deep that your food will have to be lowered to you in pressurized containers! I'll—" "You'll be on hand to dedicate the statue to our first Ex-President, I ween?" President Hoobrik addressed the Terran envoy. "I think a hundred-foot monument will be appropri- ate to express the esteem in which we hold our Tsugg emeritus, Dir Tief, eh?" "Why, ah—" "We'll appreciate your accrediting him as 54 Keith Laumer permanent Political Adviser to Oberon," Hoob- rik continued. "We'll need him handy to pose." "To be sure," Clawhammer gulped. "Now I think it's time we betook ourselves off to more private surroundings, Dir Tief," the President said. "We need to plot party strategy for the coming by-election!" "You're all invited to sample the hospital- ity of the Plump Sausage," Binkster Druzz spoke up. "Provided I have thy promise there'll be no breeching of walls." "Done!" Hoobrik cried heartily. "And by the way, Dir Druzz, what wouldst think of the idea of a coalition, eh?" "Hmm. . . Twilprit sagacity linked with Tsugg bulk might indeed present a formidable ticket," Binkster concurred. "Well, Relief," Magnan said as the party streamed toward the gate, "yours was surely the shortest administration in the annals of representational government. Tell me, confi- dentially: How in the world did you induce that band of thugs to accept you as their nominee?" "I'm afraid that will have to remain a se- cret for now," Relief said. "But just wait until I write my memoirs." Mechanical Advantage "Twenty thousand years ago," said Cultural Attache Pennyfool, "this, unless I miss my guess, was the capital city of a thriving alien culture." The half-dozen Ten-ans—members of a Field Expeditionary Group of the Corps Diploma- tique Terrestrienne—stood in the center of a narrow strip of turquoise-colored sward that file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (33 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt wound between weathered slabs of porous, orange masonry, rusting spires of twisted metal to which a few bits of colored tile still clung, and anonymous mounds in which wildflowers nodded alien petals under the light of a swollen orange sun. "Imagine," Consul Magnan said in an awed tone, as the party strolled on through a crum- bling arcade and across a sand-drifted square. "At a time when we were still living in caves, 56 Keith Laumer these creatures had already developed auto- mats and traffic jams." He sighed. "And now they're utterly extinct. The survey's life detec- tors didn't so much as quiver." "They seem to have progressed from neon to nuclear annihilation in record time," Sec- ond Secretary Relief commented. "But I think we have a good chance of bettering their track record." "Think of it, gentlemen," Pennyfool called, pausing at the base of a capless pylon and rubbing his hands together with a sound like a cicada grooming its wing cases. "An entire city in pristine condition—nay, more, a whole continent, a complete planet! It's an archaeol- ogist's dream come true! Picture the treasures to be found: the stone axes and telly sets, the implements of bone and plastic, the artifacts of home, school, and office, the tin cans, the beer bottles, the bones—oh, my, the bones, gentlemen! Emerging into the light of day after all these centuries to tell us their tales of the life and demise of a culture!" "If they've been dead for twenty thousand years, what's the point in digging around in their garbage dumps?" an Assistant Military Attache inquired sotto voce. "I say Corps funds would be-better spent running a little nose-to- ground reconnaissance of Boge, or keeping an eye on the Groaci." "Tsk, Major," Magnan said. "Such comments merely serve to reinforce the popular stereo- type of the crassness of the military mind." "Who's so crass about keeping abreast of the opposition?" the officer protested. "It might RETIEP OF THE CDT 57 be a nice change if we hit them first, for once, instead of getting clobbered on the ground." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (34 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Sir"—Magnan tugged at the iridium-braid- ed lapels of his liver-colored informal field coverall—"would you fly in the face of six hundred years of tradition?" "Now, gentlemen," Pennyfool was saying, "we're not here to carry out a full-scale dig, of course, merely to conduct a preliminary sur- vey. But I see no reason why we shouldn't wet a line, so to speak. Magnan, suppose you just take one of these spades and we'll poke about a bit. But carefully, mind you. We wouldn't want to damage an irreplaceable art treasure." "Heavens, I'd love to," Magnan said as his superior offered him the shovel. "What per- fectly vile luck that I happen to have a rare joint condition known as motorman's arm—" "A diplomat who can't bend his elbow?" the other replied briskly. "Nonsense." He thrust the implement at Magnan. "Outrageous," the latter muttered as his su- perior moved out of earshot, scanning the area for a likely spot to commence. "I thought I was volunteering for a relaxing junket, not being dragooned to serve as a navvy." "Your experience in digging through Cen- tral Files should serve you in good stead, sir," Second Secretary Retief said. "Let's just pre- tend we're after evidence of a political predic- tion that didn't pan out by someone just above you on the promotion list." "I resent the implication that I would stoop to such tactics," Magnan said loftily, "hi any case, only an idiot would go on record with 58 Keith Laumer guesswork." He eyed Retief obliquely. "I, ah, don't suppose you know of any such idiot?" "I did," Relief said. "But he just made Ambassador." "Aha!" Pennyfool caroled from a heavily silted doorway flanked by a pair of glassless openings. "A well-nigh intact structure, quite possibly a museum. Suppose we just take a peek." The diplomats trailed their enthusias- tic leader as he scrambled through into a roof- less chamber with an uneven, dirt-drifted floor and bare walls from which the plaster had long since disappeared. Along one side of the room a flat-topped ridge projected a foot above the ground. Pennyfool poked a finger at a small mound atop it, exposing a lumpy object. "Eureka!" he cried, brushing dirt away from file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (35 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt his find. "You see, gentlemen? I've already turned up a masterpiece of the Late Mere- tricious!" "I say, sir," a plump Third Secretary ad- dressed the expedition's leader, "since Verdi- gris is a virgin world, and we're the first beings to set foot here since its discovery, how does it happen the era already has a name?" "Simple, my boy," Pennyfool snapped. "I just named it." "Look here, sir," an eager Information Agency man who had been poking at the find said, "I think there's been an error. This place isn't a museum; it's a lunch counter. And the mas- terpiece is a plate of petrified mashed pota- toes and mummified peas." "By Jove, I think you've got something there, Quagmire," a portly Admin Officer said. "Looks RETIEF OF THE CDT 59 just like the stuff they served at the Testimo- nial Dinner for Ambassador Clawhammer—" "He's right," Magnan announced from his position farther down the line. "Here's a side order of French fries—" "Dunderheads!" Pennyfool snapped. "I'm not in need of uninformed conjectures by amateurs in order to properly classify priceless antiq- uities. Kindly leave such matters to experts. Now, come along. There seems to be an ad- joining room with 'an intact roof—a room un- visited for twenty centuries! I'll wager my figleaf cluster to my Grand Cordon of the L6gion d'Cosme that a thrilling discovery awaits us there!" His staff followed him past the edge of a metal door standing half open, into a dark chamber. The next moment, pale yellowish light flooded the room. "To stop where you are," a weak voice hissed the words in a breathy alien tongue from be- hind the delegation. "To raise your digital members above your cephalic nodules, or to be incinerated on the spot!" 2 A spindle-legged creature in a flaring hel- met and sequined greaves emerged from the deep shadow of the door, aiming a scatter- gun carelessly at Magnan's knees. "What's this?" Pennyfool's voice cracked on the words. "Groaci? Here?" "Indeed, Soft One," the alien confirmed. "To file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (36 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt comply at once with my instructions or to 60 Keith Laumer add your osseous components to those already interred here!" Other gun-toting creatures appeared from alcoves and behind columns, closed in, clack- ing homy mandibles threateningly. "See here, Captain," Pennyfool said in a high, nervous voice to a larger than average Groaci in jeweled eyeshields who carried no weapon but an ornamental side arm. "What's the meaning of this unwarranted interference with a peaceful party of duly authorized offi- cial personnel of the Corps Diplomatique Terrestrienne?" "The meaning, Mr. Pennyfool," the officer replied in accent-free Terran, "is that you are anticipated, forestalled, preceded." He casu- ally waved a dope stick in a foot-long ivory holder. "You are interlopers, trespassers on Groacian real estate; you note that out of deli- cacy I refrain from use of the term 'invaders.' " i» "Invaders? We're scientists—art lovers— and—" "To be sure," the captain cut him off curtly. "However, it will be necessary for you to in- dulge these fancies elsewhere. Verdigris, as an unoccupied planet, has been claimed by my government. Unfortunately, we are at present unable to issue tourist visas to the curious. You will therefore repair at once to your ves- sel, pay the accumulated landing fees, demur- rage, fines for illegal parking, and lift tax, and be on your way—" "This is an outrage, you five-eyed bandit!" the Assistant Military Attache yelled, thrust- T RETIEF OF THE CDT 61 ing to the fore. "This planet was discovered by a Corps scouting vessel! It belongs to us!" "I shall overlook your tone, Major," the Groaci whispered acidly, "induced no doubt by envy at my race's superior optical endow- ments, and simply inquire whether any Ter- ran claim to the world was ever registered with the appropriate tribunals?" "Of course not," Pennyfool snapped. "We didn't want every claim-jumping Tom, Dick, file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (37 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt and Irving in this end of the Arm swarming in here to see what they could loot!" "An unfortunate oversight, Mr. Pennyfool—" "But the Survey boat planted a claim bea- con. You must have seen it—" "Dear me, now that you mention it, I seem to recall my chaps vaporizing some sort of electronic noise-maker which was interfering with radio reception. Too bad that not a trace remains." "That's a gross violation of Interplanetary Rules!" "So? Possession is nine points of the law, Mr. Pennyfool. But enough of these pleasant- ries; at the moment, the matter of accounts receivable requires our attention. I'm sure you're eager to clear up the trifling indebted- ness and be about your no doubt legitimate activites elsewhere." "How ... how much," Pennyfool asked, "is this going to cost us?" "If one of you will hand over twenty-two thousand six hundred and four galactic cred- its, cash, no checks, please, you can be on your way." 62 Keith Laumer "Twenty-two thousand!" Pennyfool choked on the words. "That's highway robbery!" "Plus an additional thousand penalty fee for each insult," the captain added in an omi- nous whisper. "And of course I need not re- mind you that the demurrage charges are piling up minute by minute." "That's out of the question," Pennyfool gasped. "I have no such amount in my posses- sion! We're a scientific expedition, not a party of bank messengers!" "Too bad," the captain whispered. "In that case ..." He made a curt gesture; armed troops stepped forward, guns at the ready. "Stop!" Magnan yelped. "You can't just shoot diplomats down in cold blood!" "Since higher organisms such as myself em- ploy no vascular fluids, I am under no such restraint," the captain pointed out. "However, I agree it would be less than couth to fail to observe the forms. Accordingly, I shall refer the matter to my chief." He murmured a word to a soldier, who slung his weapon and hur- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (38 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt ried away. The captain sauntered off, hum- ming a gay little tune to himself. "Verdigris was supposed to be the best-kept secret of the year," Pennyfool muttered bro- kenly to Magnan. "Who would have dreamed the Groaci would be here ahead of us ... ?" "They couldn't have found it by accident," the Information Agency man said glumly. "Coincidences like that don't happen." "You're right, Crouchwell," Pennyfool said, staring around at his staff. "Gentlemen—some- body leaked!" RETIEF OF THE CDT 63 "Well, gracious, don't look at me, sir," Magnan said, an indignant expression pinch- ing his narrow features. "I hardly breathed a word, except to a few highly respected col- leagues." "Colleagues?" Pennyfool raised a pale eye- brow. "Fellow diplomats; high-type chaps like Am- bassador P'Yim-Yim of Yill, and Slunk, the Fustian Minister, and ... and ..." "And?" Pennyfool prompted. "And Consul General Shilth," Magnan fin- ished weakly. "Planetary Director Shilth, if you don't mind," an alien voice spoke behind him. There was a stir among the troops ringing in the Terrans. A tall Groaci in an elaborately ribbed hip-cloak strolled forward, waved jauntily at Magnan, nodded to Pennyfool. "Well, gentlemen, good of you to pay a cour- tesy call," he said smoothly. "Mr. Consul General," Magnan said in a hurt tone. "I never dreamed you'd be so un- couth as to betray a confidence." Shilth frowned, an expression he achieved by crossing two pairs of eyes. "No?" he said in a surprised tone. "Why not?" He vibrated his throat sac in a manner analogous to throat- clearing. "By the way, Pennyfool, just what was it you expected to find here?" His whis- per was elaborately casual. "You're standing in the center of a treasure house," Pennyfool said sourly, "and you have the confounded gall to ask me that?" "My chaps have devoted the better part of file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (39 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt 64 Keith Laumer the past ten hours to fruitless scrabbling in these ruins," Shilth hissed. "They've turned up nothing of the remotest utility." "You've allowed your troops to dig here at random?" Pennyfool yelped. "Aha!" Shilth wagged an accusatory tenta- cle. "In spite of your subtle dissembling, your reaction proves that treasures do indeed lie beneath this wilderness." His tone became crisp. "Kindly specify precisely what it is we're looking for, and I might—might, mind you— find a way to reduce your port fees." "You ... you assassin!" Pennyfool yelled. "You have no right to so much as set foot on this hallowed ground!" "Still I am here," Shilth said blandly. "And I see nothing in these rubble heaps to excite CDT interest." He stirred a heap of potsherds, bottle caps, and broken phonograph records with a homy foot. "Ergo, there must be a subtler prize awaiting the lucky finder." "Shilth, you Vandal!" Pennyfool yelped. "Have you no reverence for anything?" "Try me with gold," the Groaci said suc- cinctly. "You're out of your mind, you Philistine! I've told you I don't have any cash on hand!" "You refuse to speak?" Shilth turned to the captain. "Thish, I tire of the Soft One's lies and his insults. Take him out and execute him." Pennyfool squealed as the guards laid hold of him. "Execute him?" Magnan bleated. "Couldn't you just strike him off the invitation list for cocktail parties or something?" RETIEF OF THE CDT 65 "If it's gold you're interested in," Relief sug- gested, "I'm sure CDT Sector HQ will come through with a tidy sum in return for Mr. Pennyfool's hide, unbroken." "Splendid notion," a member from the Com- mercial Section piped up. "I'm sure the ran- som money—that is to say, the port fees—will be forthcoming the minute they see us all back at Sector HQ, safe and sound." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (40 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Indeed?" Shilth said in a bored tone. "And if I allowed you to depart, what surety would I then have that the just indemnities will be paid?" "You have the word of a diplomat," Magnan said promptly. "I admire your coolness Magnan," Shilth said with a little bow, "assaying jests at such a moment." "I suppose I might consent to go along," Pennyfool said, blinking his eyes rapidly. "Al- though of course I'd prefer to stay on as hos- tage myself, my rank will undoubtedly be helpful in expediting payment." "One may go," Shilth said in a chilling whisper. "That one." He pointed at Relief. Thish stepped forward, pointing his overdeco- rated handgun at the victim. "Watch him closely. Captain," Shilth ad- monished. "He has a reputation as a trouble- maker; as well have him off our hands—" As Thish, close beside Retief, waved the gun toward the entrance, Retief, with a swift mo- tion, swept the weapon from the other's grip, took a step, caught Shilth by the neck, and backed him against the wall, the muzzle of 66 Keith Laumer the pistol pressed against the hostage's ven- tral carapace. "Tell your boys to stand fast," he said in a conversational tone as the Groaci official writhed and kicked futiley while the soldiers looked on as if paralyzed. "Mr. Pennyfool, if you're ready to board ship, I don't think Plan- etary Director Shilth will voice any objection." "My soldiers will shoot you down like nest- ing nidfowls!" Shilth hissed. "In which case, I'd be forced to pump your thorax full of soft-nosed slugs," Retief said. "I've heard they penetrate the exo-skeleton and then just ricochet around inside until they lose momentum. Be interesting to find out if it's true." "I remind you, Pennyfool—" Shilth cocked his oculars at the Terran, who had not moved— "my lads' scatter-guns are highly disruptive to flimsy organisms such as yourselves. Dis- arm your misguided colleague, and spare the CDT the expense of a mass funeral, no less costly for lack of any identifiable remains!" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (41 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Better get moving, sir, before some bright lad gets ideas," Retief suggested. "They ... we ... I ...," Pennyfool gasped. "By no means," Retief said soothingly. "They hold Shilth in far too high esteem to see him converted into a boiled pudding on the half shell." Cautiously, the Terrans sidled toward the door. Pennyfool went through in a scrambling leap, followed closely by his associates. "Retief," Magnan, at the rear of the party, RETIEF OF THE CDT 67 said, "how are you going to get clear? If one of them gets behind you—" "Better get aboard, Mr. Magnan," Retief cut in. "I have an idea Mr. Pennyfool won't daw- dle around waiting for stragglers." "But—but—" "Captain Thish, perhaps you'd be kind enough to act as escort," Retief said, "just in case any of the boys on the outside leap to conclusions." "To comply," Shilth whispered in Groaci as the officer hesitated. "Later, to visit this miscreant's crimes upon him in a fashion de- vised at leisure—our leisure, that is." Magnan made a gobbling sound and disap- peared, Thish at his heels. Shilth had stopped struggling. The Groaci soldiery stood in atti- tudes of alert paralysis, watching for an open- ing. It was ten minutes before the sound of the Corps vessel's drive rumbled briefly, faded, and was gone. "And now?" Shilth inquired. "If you con- template a contest of endurance, I remind you that we Groaci can carry on for upwards of ten standard days without so much as nictating a membrane." "Send them outside," Retief said. Shilth remonstrated, but complied. A mo- ment later, a shrill but unmistakably human yelp sounded from beyond the door. Magnan appeared in the entry, his arms gripped by a pair of Groaci while a third held a scatter-gun to his head. "They ... they didn't wait," the diplomat wailed. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (42 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Release me!" Shilth hissed. "Or would you 68 Keith Laumer prefer to wait until after my lads have blown your superior's head off?" "Sounds like an even trade," Retief said. Magnan gasped and swallowed. "Much as I should dislike to see the Plane- tary Director's internal arrangements hashed in the manner you so vividly described," Thish said from behind Magnan, "I assure you I would make the sacrifice in the interest of the Groaci national honor." "In the interest of his next promotion, he means," Shilth hissed. "What does he care if I'm diced in the process?" Retief thrust Shilth away, tossed the gun on the floor. "If I didn't know you wanted both of us alive, I'd have called your bluff, Thish," he said. "Oh? And do I want you alive, Soft One?" Thish took aim with a borrowed rifle— "Of course you do, littermate of genetic in- feriors!" Shilth snapped, massaging the point on his back where the gun muzzle had dug in. "At least until they divulge the secret of what they sought here!" He turned to Retief. "And now let us to business, eh?" Retief plucked a cigar from his breast pocket, puffed it alight, blew scented smoke past the alien's olfactory orifices, which cinched up tight at the aroma of Virginia leaf. "Certainly, Shilth. Who's for sale now?" "You are, my dear Terry," the Groaci said ominously. "The price of your life is a com- plete description of the nature and location of the riches hidden here." Retief waved the stogie at the blotched walls» RETIEF OF THE CDT 69 the dirtdrifted corners, the broken tilework. "You're looking at them." "Ah, so we are to have the pleasure of as- sisting you in developing a more cooperative attitude, eh? Capital. Easy babblers are such bores." "You wouldn't dare torture us," Magnan said in a squeaky tone. "Our colleagues know file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (43 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:26 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt where we are. If we aren't returned unharmed, they'll extract a terrible vengeance!" "A sharp note to the Ambassador, no doubt," Shilth said, with an amused snap of the man- dibles. "Still, there are subtler methods of persuasion than living dismemberment. Now, we Groaci are quite at home in enclosed spaces; but you Terries, it is rumored, are claustro- phobes, an allegation I've often yearned to test. And I know just the setting in which to conduct the experiment." He gestured to Thish, who urged the two Terrans at gunpoint along a wide passage to a metal door. Two soldiers came forward to wrestle the heavy panel aside, exposing a tiny chamber no more than six feet on a side, windowless, unfurnished. "Gentlemen, your cell. A trifle cramped, per- haps, but well protected from excessive wind and rain, eh?" Retief and Magnan stepped inside. The two soldiers forced the heavy sliding door shut. In the total darkness, a dim spot of light glowed on one wall. Retief reached out and pressed a thumb against it. With a grinding of ancient gears, a groan- ing of antique cables, the elevator started down. 70 Keith Laumer 3 Magnan emitted a shrill cry and attempted to climb the wall. "Retief! What's happening?" "No, no, Mr. Magnan," Retief said. "Your line is, 'Ah, just as I planned.' That's the way reputations for forethought are built." "Shilth was quite right about the claustro- phobia," Magnan said in a choked voice. "I feel that the walls are going to close in on me!" "Just close your eyes and pretend you're at a Tuesday morning Staff Meeting. The relief when you find yourself here should carry you through anything short of utter catastrophe." With a shudder and a clank, the car came to a halt. "N-now what?" Magnan said in a small voice. Retief felt over the door, found the stub of a lever. He gripped it and pulled. Reluc- tantly, the door slid aside on a large, column- filled room faintly lit by strips of dimly glowing file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (44 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt material still adhering to ceiling and walls, adorned with murals depicting grotesque figures engaged in obscure rites. "Tomb paintings," Magnan said in a hushed voice. "We're in the catacombs. The place is probably full of bones, not that I actually be- lieve in the curses of dead kings or anything." "The curses of live Ambassadors are far more potent, I suspect," Retief said, leading the way across the room and into one of the many passages debouching from the chamber. Here more cabalistic scenes were etched in still- RETIEF OF THE CDT 71 bright colors against the ancient walls. Cryp- tic legends in an unknown script were blazoned across many of them. "They're probably quotations from the lo- cal version of the Book of the Dead," Magnan hazarded, his eye caught by a vividly pig- mented representation of a large alien being making what seemed to be a threatening ges- ture at a second alien from whose ears wisps of mist coiled. "This one, for example," he said, "no doubt shows us the God of the Underworld judging a soul and finding it wanting." "Either that, or it's a NO SMOKING sign," Retief agreed. The passage turned, branched. The left branch dead-ended at an ominous-looking sump half-filled with a glistening black fluid. "The sacrificial well," Magnon said with a shudder. "I daresay the bottom—goodness knows how far down that is—is covered with the remains of youths and maidens offered to the gods." Retief sniffed. "It smells like drained crank- case oil." They skirted the pit, came into a wide room crowded with massive, complex shapes of cor- roded metal, ranked in rows in the deep gloom. "And these are the alien idols," Magnan whispered. "Gad, they have a look of the, most frightful ferocity about them . .." "That one"—Retief indicated a tall, many- armed monster looming before him—"bears a remarkable resemblance to a hay-baler." "Mind your tongue, Retief!" Magnan said file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (45 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt 72 Keith Laumer sharply. "It's not that I imagine they can hear us, of course, but why tempt fate?" There was a sharp click!, a whirring and clattering, a stir of massive forms all across the gloomy chamber. Magnan yipped and leaped back as a construct the size of a fork- lift stirred into motion, turned, creaking, and surveyed him with a pair of what were indis- putably glowing amber eyes. "We're surrounded," Magnan chirped faintly. "And they told us the planet was uninhabited!" "It is," Retief said, as more giant shapes moved forward, accompanied by the squeak of unlubricated metal. "Then what are these?" Magnan came back sharply. "Oversized spooks?" "Close, but no kewpie doll," Relief said. "This is the city garage, and these are mainte- nance robots." "R-r-robots?" "Our coming in must have triggered them to come to alert status." They moved along the row of giant machines, each equipped with a variety of limbs, organs, and sensors. "Then . . . then they're probably waiting for us to give them orders," Magnan said with returning confidence. "Retief! Don't you see what this means? We can tell them to jump in the lift and ride up and scare the nether gar- ments off that sticky little Shilth and his army—or we could have done," he added, "if they understood Terran." "Terran understood," a scratchy bass voice rasped from a point just opposite Magnan's RETIEF OF THE CDT 73 ear. He leaped and whirled, banging a shin smartly. "Retief! They understand us! We're saved! Good lord, when I first planned our escape via the lift, I never dreamed we'd have such a stroke of luck!" "Now you're getting the idea," Retief said admiringly. "But why not just add that extra touch of savoir faire by pretending you'd de- duced the whole thing, robots and all, from a cryptic squiggle on the contact party's scope- f\fi file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (46 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt gram? "Don't be crude, Retief," Magnan said loft- ily. "I fully intend to share the credit for the coup. In my report I'll mention that you pushed the lift button with no more than a hint from me." "Maybe you'd better not write up that re- port just yet," Retief said, as a robot directly before them shifted position with a dry squeal of rusty bearing to squarely block their ad- vance. Others closed in on either side; they turned to find retreat similarly cut off. "My, see how eager they are, Retief," Magnan said in a comfortable tone. "There, there, just stand aside like a good, er, fellow." The machine failed to move. Frowning, Magnan started around it, was cut off by a smaller automaton—this one no bigger than a commercial sausage grinder, and adorned with a similar set of blades visible inside a gaping metallic maw. "Well! I see they're in need of reprogram- ing," Magnan said sharply. "It's all very well to fawn a little, but—" 74 Keith Laumer "I'm not sure they're fawning," Retief said. "Then—what in the world are they doing?" "Terran are surrounded," a voice like bro- ken glass stated from behind the encircled diplomats. "We are judging Terran," an unoiled tenor stated from the rear rank, "and finding you wanting." "Frightful oversized robots will jump on your smoking remains," chimed in a third voice, reminiscent of a file on steel. "We are eager for crude contact," Broken Glass agreed. "They have a curious mode of expressing themselves," Magnan said nervously. "I seem to detect an almost ominous note in their singular choice of words." "I think they're picking up their vocabulary from us," Retief said. "Retief—if it wasn't so silly, I'd think that one intended us bodily harm," Magnan said in a tone of forced jocularity, as a ponderous file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (47 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt assemblage of sharp edges came forward, rumbling. "We intend you bodily harm," File-on-steel said, advancing from the left. "But—but you can't attack us," Magnan protested. "You're just machines! We're alive! We're your rightful masters!" "Masters are better than robots," Broken Glass stated. "You are not better than us. You are not masters. We will certainly harm you." "You will not escape," a red-eyed monster added. RETIEF OF THE CDT 75 "Retief—I suspect we've made a blunder," Magnan said in a wavering tone. "We were better off at the tender mercies of the Groaci!" "What's it all about, boys?" Retief called over the gathering creak and clank as the ma- chines closed in. "This planet is not your world. We are pro- grammed to give no mercies to you." "Just a minute," Magnan protested. "We're just harmless diplomats. Can't we all be friends or something?" "Who gave you your order?" Retief asked. "Our masters," replied a voice like a sand- filled gearbox. "That was a long time ago," Retief said. "Matters have changed somewhat—" "Yes, indeed," Magnan chimed in. "You see, now that your old masters are all dead, we're taking over their duties—" "Our duties are to see you dead," Red-eye boomed, raising a pair of yard-long cleavers. "Help!" Magnan yelped. "We wouldn't want to stand in the way of duty," Retief said, watching the poised cut- ting edges, "but suppose we turned out to be your masters, after all? I'm sure you wouldn't want to make the mistake of slicing up your legitimate owners." "You see, we took over where they left off," file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (48 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt Magnan said hastily. "We're, ah, looking after all their affairs for them, carrying out their wishes as we understand them, tidying up—" "There is no mistake, Terran. You are not our masters." "You said masters are better than robots," 76 RETIEF OF THE CDT 77 Keith Laumer Retief reminded the machine. "If we can prove our superiority, will you concede the point?" Silence fell, broken only by the whirr and hum of robotic metabolisms. "If you could so prove, we will certainly concede your status as our masters," Sand-in- the-gears said at last. "Gracious, I should think so!" Magnan jerked his rumpled lapels into line. "For a moment, Retief, I confess I was beginning to feel just the teeniest bit apprehensive—" "You have one minute to, prove your superi- ority," Broken Glass said flatly. "Well, I should think it was obvious," Magnan sniffed. "Just look at us." "Indeed, we've done so. We find you little, silly, crude, tender, apprehensive, and harm- less." "You mean—?" "It means we'll have to do something even more impressive than standing around radi- ating righteous indignation, Mr. Magnan." "Well, for heaven's sake," Magnan sniffed. "I never thought I'd see the day when I had to prove the obvious ascendancy of a diplomat over a donkey engine." "We are waiting," File-on-steel said. "Well, what do they expect?" Magnan yelped. "It's true they're bigger, stronger, faster, longer- lived, and cheaper to operate; and of course they have vast memory banks and can do lightning calculations and tricks of that sort— which, however, can hardly compare with our unique human ability to, ah, do what we do," he finished in a subdued tone. "What do you do?" Red-eye demanded. "Why, we, ah, demonstrate moral superior- ity," Magnan said brightly. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (49 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Shilth was right about your sense of hu- mor," Retief said admiringly. "But I think we'd better defer the subtle jests until we discover whether we're going to survive to enjoy the laugh." "Well, for heaven's sake, do something, Retief," Magnan whispered, "before they make a terrible blunder." He rolled his eyes side- ways at a scythe-like implement hovering as if ready to shear at any instant through the volume of space he occupied. "Time is up," Broken Glass said. The ma- chines surged forward. The scythe, sweeping horizontally, clanged against the descending cleavers as Retief and Magnan jumped aside from the rush of a low-slung tree mower with chattering blades. The latter swerved, collided with a massive punch press, one of whose piston-like members stabbed through the side of a ponderous masonry-wrecker. It wobbled, did a sharp right turn, and slammed into the cast-concrete wall, which cracked and leaned, allowing a massive beam to drop free at one end, narrowly missing Magnan as he rebounded from the flank of a charging garbage-shredder. The falling girder crashed across the midsec- tion of the latter machine with a decisive crunch!, pinning the hapless apparatus to the spot. It clashed its treads futilely, sending up a shower of concrete chips. The other ma- chines clustered around it in attitudes of con- cern, the Terrans for the moment forgotten. 78 Keith Laumer "Hsst! Retief! This is our chance to beat a strategic withdrawal!" Magnan stage-whis- pered. "If we can just make it back to the elevator—" "We'll find Shilth waiting at the top," Retief said. "Mr. Magnan, suppose you find a com- fortable spot behind a packing case somewhere. I'm not quite ready to leave yet." "Are you insane? These bloodthirsty bags of bolts are ready to pound us to putty!" "They seem to be fully occupied with an- other problem at the moment," Retief pointed out, nodding toward a posthole digger which was fruitlessly poking at the end of the beam which had trapped its fellow. The scythe-armed robot was as busily scraping at the massive member, without result. The ranks parted to let a heavy-duty paint-chipper through; but it file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (50 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt merely clattered its chisel tips vainly against the impervious material. And all the while, the pinioned machine groaned lugubriously, sparks flying from its commutator box as it threshed vainly to pull free. Retief stepped forward; Red-eye swiveled on him, raising a large mallet apparently de- signed for pounding heavy posts into hard ground. "Before you drive home your argument," Retief said, "I have a proposal." "What proposal?" "You don't seem to be having much luck extricating your colleague from under the beam. Suppose I try—" "One minute. I will lift the beam," a deep voice boomed. A massively built loading ro- RETIEF OF THE CDT 79 bot trundled forward, maneuvered deftly into position, secured a grip on the concrete mem- ber with its single huge arm, and heaved. For a moment, nothing happened; then there was a sharp clonk! and a broken duralloy torque rod dangled from the lifter's forged-steel bi- ceps. The girder had not stirred. "Tough luck, old fellow," Retief said. "My turn." "Good heavens, Retief, if that cast-iron Hercules couldn't do it, how can you hope to succeed?" Magnan squeaked from his corner. "You have the ability to help our colleague?" Broken Glass demanded. "If I do, will you follow my orders?" "If you can do that which we cannot do, your superiority is obvious." "In that case, just pull that bar out of there, will you?" Retief pointed to a four-inch- diameter steel rod, twenty feet long, part of a roller assembly presumably once used in loading operations. A stacking machine gripped the rod and gave it a firm pull, ripping it free from its mountings. "Stick one end under the edge of the beam, like a good fellow," Retief said. "You there, jackhammer: Push that anvil under the rod, eh?" The machines complied with his requests file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (51 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt with brisk efficiency, adjusting the lever as directed, with the fulcrum as close as possible to the weight to be lifted. "Retief—if you couldn't even lift the lever, how are you going to ..." Magnan's voice faded as Retief stepped up on the tread-skirt of a sandblaster and put a foot on the up- 80 Keith Laumer angled long arm of the jury-rigged prybar. Steadying himself, he let his full weight onto the rod. Instantly, it sank gracefully down, lifting the multi-ton beam a full half inch from the depression it had imprinted in the garbage- shredder. The latter made a clanking sound, attempted to move, emitted a cascade of elec- trical sputterings, and subsided. "He's ruptured himself!" Magnan gasped. "Poor thing. Still, we've done our part." The other machines were maneuvering, mak- ing way for a squat cargo-tug, which backed up to the victim but was unable to get in position to attach its tow cable. A dirt-pusher with a wide blade tried next, but in the close quarters failed to get within six feet of the disabled machine. The others had no better luck. "Mr. Magnan, find a length of cable," Retief called. Magnan rummaged, turned up a rust- ing coil of braided wire. "One of you robots with digits, tie one end of the cable to the patient," Retief said. "Cinch the other up to something that won't give." Two minutes later the cable was stretched drum-tight from a massive stanchion to the cripple, running between closely spaced paired columns. "Next, we apply a transverse pull to the center of the cable," Retief directed. "They can't," Magnan wailed. "There's no room!" "In that case, Mr. Magnan, perhaps you'd be good enough to perform the office." RETIEF OF THE CDT 81 "I?" Magnan's eyebrows went up. "Perhaps you've forgotten my motorman's arm." "Use the other one." "You expect me, one-handed, to budge that ten-ton hulk?" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (52 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Better hurry up, sir. I feel my foot slipping." "This is madness," Magnan exclaimed, but he stepped to the cable, gripped it at mid- point, and tugged. With a harsh squeak of metal, the damaged machine moved forward half an inch. "Why—why, that's positively astonishing!" Magnan said with a pleased look. "Tighten the cable and do it again!" Retief said quickly. The machines hurried to take up the slack. Magnan, with an amazed expres- sion, applied a second pull. The wreck moved another centimeter. After three more nibbles, the tug was able to hook on and drag its fellow clear. Retief jumped down, letting the beam drop with a floor-shaking boom! "Heavens!" Magnan found his voice. "I never imagined I was such a brute! After all, the diplomatic life is somewhat sedentary ..." He flexed a thin arm, fingering it in search of a biceps. "Wrestling with the conscience is excellent exercise," Retief pointed out. "And you've held up your end of some rather weighty conversa- tions in your time." "Jape if you must," Magnan said coolly. "But you can't deny I did free the creature—er, machine, that is." "You have freed our colleague," Sand-in- 82 Keith Laumer the-gears said to Magnan. "We are waiting for your orders, Master." "To be sure." Magnan placed his fingertips together and pursed his lips. "You won't fit into the lift," he said judiciously, looking over his new subjects. "Is there another way up?" "To be sure. Master." "Excellent. I want all of you to ascend to the surface at once, round up and disarm ev- ery Groaci on the planet, and lock them up. And see that you don't squash the one called Shilth in the process. I have a little gloating to do." 4 On a newly excavated terrace under a ro- mantically crumbling wall of pink brick, Magnan and Relief sat with Shilth, the latter wearing a crestfallen expression involving quiv- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (53 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt ering anterior mandibles and drooping eye- stalks. His elaborate cloak of office was gone, and there were smudges of axle grease on his once-polished thorax. "Dirty pool, Magnan," the Groaci said, his breathy voice fainter than ever. "I was in line for the Order of the Rubber Calipers, Second Class, at the very least, and you spoiled it all with your perambulating junkyard. Who would have dreamed you'd been so sly as to secretly conceal a host of war machines? I suspect you did it merely to embarrass me." "Actually," Magnan began, and paused. "Ac- RETIEF OF THE CDT 83 tually, it was quite shrewd of me, now that you mention it." "I think you overdid the camouflage, how- ever," Shilth said acidly as a street broom whiffled past, casting a shower of dust over the party. "The confounded things don't ap- pear to be aware that the coup is over. They're still carrying on the charade." "I like to keep my lads occupied," Magnan said briskly, nodding grandly at a hauler trun- dling past along the newly cleaned avenue with a load of newly uprooted brush. "Helps to keep them in trim in case they're needed suddenly to quell any disturbances." "Never fear. I've impressed on Thish that he will not long survive any threat to my well-being." "Company coming," Relief said, gesturing toward a descending point of sun-bright blue light. They watched the ship settle into a land- ing a quarter of a mile distant, then rose and strolled over to greet the emerging passengers. "Why, it's Mr. Pennyfool," Magnan said. "I knew he'd be along to rescue us. Yoo-hoo, Mr. Pennyfool ..." "That's Mr. Ambassador, Magnan," Penny- fool corrected sharply. "Kindly step aside. You're interfering with a delicate negotiation." The little man marched past Relief without a glance, halted before Shilth, offering a wide smile and a limp hand. The Groaci studied the latter, turned it over gingerly and exam- ined the back, then dropped it. "Liver spots," he said. "How unaesthetic." "Now, Planetary Director Shilth, we're pre- 84 Keith Laumer file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (54 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt pared to offer a handsome fee in return for exploratory rights here on Verdigris." Pennyfool restored his smile with an effort. "Of course, anything we find will be turned over to you at once—" "Oh, ah, Mr. Ambassador," Magnan haz- arded. "We Groaci," Shilth said sourly, "are not subject to such pigmentational disorders. We remain a uniform, soothing puce at all times." "Sir," Magnan piped up, "I'd just like—" "Now, naturally, we're prepared to under- write a generous program of planetary devel- opment to assist your people in settling in," Pennyfool hurried on. "I had in mind about half a billion to start ..." He paused to gauge reaction. "Per year, of course," he amended, judging the omens, "with adequate bonuses for special projects, naturally. Now, I'd say a staff of, say, two hundred to begin with . . . ?" "Pennyfool, I have a dreadful node-ache," Shilth hissed. "Why don't you go jump down an elevator shaft?" He patted back a counter- feit yawn and stalked away. "Well, I can see that this is going to be a challenge," Pennyfool said, staring after the alien. "The tricky fellow is going to hold out for two billion, no doubt." "Mr. Ambassador, I have good news," Mag- nan said hastily. "We can save the taxpayers those billions. Verdigris belongs to me!" "See here, Magnan, the privation can't have scrambled your meager wits already! You've only been here seventy-two hours!" RETIEF OF THE CDT 85 "But, sir—there's no need to promise Shilth the moon—" "Aha! So that's what he's holding out for. Well, I see no reason the negotiation should founder over a mere satellite—" Pennyfool turned to pursue Shilth. "No, no, you don't quite grasp my mean- ing," Magnan yipped, grabbing at his superi- or's sleeve. "Unhand me, Magnan!" Pennyfool roared. "I'll see to your release after other, more vital matters are dealt with. In the meantime, I suggest you set a good example by cobbling a file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (55 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt record number of shoes, or whatever task they've set you—" "Master, is this person troubling you?" a torn-metal voice inquired. Magnan and Penny- fool whirled to see a rust-covered hedge clip- per looming over them, four-foot clippers at the ready. "No, that's quite all right, Albert," Magnan said acidly. "I like being bullied." "You're quite certain you don't wish him trimmed to a uniform height?" "No—I just want him to listen to what I have to say." Albert clacked the shears together with a nerve-shredding sound. "I—I'd love to listen to you, my dear Mag- nan," Pennyfool said rapidly. Magnan delivered a brief account of his cap- ture of the planet. "So you see, sir," he con- cluded, "the whole thing is Terran property." "Magnan!" Pennyfool roared, then with a glance at Albert, lowered his voice to a whis- 86 Keith Laumer per. "Do you realize what this means? When I reported the Groaci here ahead of us, I was appointed as Terran Ambassador Extraordi- nary and Minister Plenipotentiary to the con- founded place! If we own it, then pfft! There goes my appointment!" "Great heavens, sir"—Magnan paled at the announcement—"I had no idea ..." "Look here, do you suppose we could get them to take it back?" "What, stay here, surrounded by these mo- bile, moldy monstrosities?" Shilth, who had returned silently, hissed. "Never! I demand repatriation!" Relief caught Magnan's eye as Pennyfool turned to soothe the Groaci. "What is it, Retief? Can't you see I'm at a critical point, careerwise?" "I have a suggestion," Retief said. As Magnan rejoined Pennyfool, Shilth was still hissing imprecations. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (56 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Master, what say I prune this fellow a bit," Albert proposed. "He seems to have sprouted too many eyes." "Not unless he says another word," Magnan said. He turned to Pennyfool with a thought- ful look. "I say, sir, suppose I should come up with a scheme which will insure your confir- mation, and which will at the same time reflect favorably on the Terran image: you know, the kindly, selfless, helping-hand sort of thing ... ?" "Yes, yes?" "I daresay, once established here, you'd want to surround yourself with a staff widely versed in local problems—" RETIEF OF THE CDT 87 "Naturally. There are plenty of reliable team men available doing Underground research work in subterranean libraries back at Sector. Get on with it, Magnan." "I want the Counselorship," Magnan said crisply. "You, number two man in my Embassy? Ridiculous! I'd have to jump you over the heads of men with vast experience under their belts!" "Most of my experience has been at a some- what higher level," Magnan said loftily. "No Counselorship, no scheme." "What's this, Magnan, blackmail?" Pennyfool gasped. "Precisely," Magnan said. Pennyfool opened his mouth to yell, then closed it and nodded. "Magnan, it's apparent you're more famil- iar with the techniques of diplomacy than I suspected. I accept. Now, just what do you have in mind ... ?" "It's a bit unusual," Ambassador Pennyfool said complacently, glancing out the window of his freshly refurbished office on the top floor of a newly excavated tower of green ano- dized aluminum serving as CDT Chancery. "But on the other hand, its uniqueness offers a certain challenge." "Gracious yes," Counselor Magnan said, nod- 88 Keith Laumer file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (57 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt ding. "The first Terran envoy to present cre- dentials to a mechanical Head of State." "I don't know," the Military Attache said darkly. "Freeing these inanimate objects and letting them set up in business for themselves may create a dangerous precedent. What if cybernetic military equipment, for example, should start getting ideas about pensions and promotions?" "And office machines," the Budget and Fis- cal Officer said worriedly. "If my bookkeep- ing computers took it into their transistors to start agitating for civil rights, I shudder to contemplate the consequences in terms of, say, late paychecks." "I'm already having trouble with my Motor Pool picking up liberal ideas," the Admin Of- ficer wagged his head, frowning. "I've had to enact strict rules against fraternization with the natives." There was a musical chime from the desk screen. The square-cornered sense-organ panel of Planetary President Albert Sand-in-the-gears appeared. "Ah, there, Pennyfool," the robotic Chief of State said in a tone as genial as his vocal equipment would allow, "I hoped I'd find you in. I was just ringing up to ask whether you'd care to join me on the links this afternoon for a few holes of ballistic golf." "I'm sorry, Mr. President," the Terran said shortly. "A game in which one is required to score eight holes-in-one out of ten from a tee seven miles from the green is not my strong suit." RETIEF OF THE CDT 89 "Of course. I keep forgetting you're not equipped with telescopic sights. A pity." The President sighed, a sound like tearing steel. "It was difficult enough grasping the idea of the superiority of my inferiors; trying to be- have as equals is even more trying—no of- fense intended, of course." "Mr. President—who's that sitting behind you?" Pennyfool asked sharply. "Ah, forgive me. This is Special Trade Repre- sentative Shilth, of Groac. His government has sent him along to assist in getting the Verdigrian economy rolling." "How long has he been here?" "Long enough to demonstrate my indispens- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (58 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt ability." Shilth leaned forward to leer at the Terrans. "I've already concluded trade agree- ments with a number of hard-currency mar- kets for export of Verdigrian antiquities—" "You didn't!" Pennyfool gasped. "Oh, have no fear; they're not the real thing." Shilth waggled an eye at Magnan, who pre- tended not to notice. "Tho' we let it be noised about that they're all bootleg national treas- ures." "Oh, I see. Reproductions." Pennyfool grunt- ed. "Just so you don't ship any irreplaceable objects d'art off-planet." "We won't. We require them as patterns for the matter duplicators." "Eh?" "The locals are digging them out by the truckload; they sort them, discard the rejects— broken pots and the like—then scrub up the choice items and send them along to the du- 90 Keith Laumer plication centers. We already have a dozen plants in full swing. Our ceramic fingering knobs are already a sensation with the cul- tured set. In a year. Verdigris will be known as the antique capital of the Eastern Arm." "Matter duplicators? You're flooding the Gal- axy with bogus antiques?" "Bogus? They're identical with the real thing, to the last molecule." "Hah! The genuine articles are priceless ex- amples of Verdigrian art; the copies are just so much junk!" "But, my dear Pennyfool—if one can't distin- guish a masterpiece from a piece of junk ... ?" "I can detect the genuine at a glance!" "Show me," the Groaci said, and whipped out a pair of seemingly identical shapes of lumpy blue-glazed clay the size and approxi- mate shape of stunted rutabagas. "... but, unfortunately, I have something in my eye." Pennyfool subsided, poking at the offending organ. "A pity. I would have enjoyed a demonstra- tion of your expertise," Shilth cooed. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (59 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Well, gentlemen, that tears it," the Ambas- sador said to his staff after the screen had blanked. "After all my delicate maneuvering to secure self-determination for these unfortu- nate relics of a bygone age, and to place the CDT in a position of paternal influence vis-a- vis their emergent nation, the infernal Groaci have stolen a march on us again. Fake an- tiques, indeed!" "Goodness, I see what you mean, Mr. Am- RETIEF OF THE CDT 91 bassador," Magnan said sympathetically. "Why didn't we think of doing that?" In the Chancery corridor ten minutes later, Magnan mopped at his thin neck with a large floral-patterned tissue. "Heavens, who'd have thought he'd fly into such a passion?" he inquired of Retief. "After all, it isn't as if those silly little gobs of mud possessed any intrinsic merit." "Oh, I don't know," Retief said. "They're not bad, considering that the locals have to mass-produce them and bury them at night when nobody's looking." "Retief!" Magnan stopped dead. "You don't mean ... ?" "It seemed like a good idea to sidetrack the Groaci away from the genuine stuff," Retief pointed out. "Just in case any of it had any sentimental value." "Fake fakes," Magnan murmured. "The con- cept has a certain euphony." They paused beside a pair of double glass doors opening onto an airy balcony two hun- dred feet above the freshly scrubbed city. As they stepped out, a small copter with a saddle and handlebars came winging in across the park to hover just beyond the balustrade. "Hop aboard, Retief, we're late," the ma- chine called in a cheerful baritone. "Retief, where are you going?" Magnan barked as the latter swung over the rail. "You have the quarterly Report of Redundant Re- ports to compile, to say nothing of the redun- dant reports themselves .. .!" "Duty calls, Mr. Magnan," Retief said sooth- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (60 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt 92 Keith Laumer ingly. "I'm off to a game of sky polo with a couple of Cabinet Ministers." He waved and set spurs to his mount, which launched itself with a bound into the wide green sky. Pime Doesn't Cray A driving rain lashed the tarmac as Retief stepped from the shuttlecraft that had ferried him down to the planetary surface. From the direction of the low, mushroom-shaped recep- tion sheds, a slight figure wrapped in a volu- minous black rubber poncho came splashing toward him, waving excitedly. "You got any enemies, Mac?" the shuttle pilot asked nervously, watching the newcom- er's approach. "A reasonable number," Retief replied, draw- ing on his cigar, which sputtered and hissed as the rain struck the glowing tip. "However, this is just Counselor Magnan from the Em- bassy, here to welcome me to the scene with the local disaster status, no doubt." "No time to waste, Retief," Magnan panted as he came up. "Ambassador Grossblunder's 93 94 Keith Laumer called a special staff meeting for five pee em—half an hour from now. If we hurry, we can just make it. I've already seen to Customs and Immigration; I knew you'd want to be there, to, er—" "Share the blame?" Relief suggested. "Hardly," Magnan corrected, flicking a drop of moisture from the tip of his nose. "As a matter of fact, I may well be in line for a word of praise for my handling of the Cul- tural Aid Project. It will be an excellent oppor- tunity for you to get your feet wet, local scenewise," he amplified, leading the way toward the Embassy car waiting beside the sheds. "According to the latest supplement to the Post Report," Retief said as they settled them- selves against the deep-pile upholstery, "the project is scheduled for completion next week. Nothing's gone wrong with the timetable, I file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (61 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt hope?" Magnan leaned forward to rap at the glass partition dividing the enclosed passenger com- partment from the open-air driver's seat; the chauffeur, a rather untidy-looking local who seemed to consist of a snarl of purple maca- roni topped by a peaked cap with a shiny bill, angled what Relief deduced to be an ear to catch the Terran's instructions. "Just swing past the theater on your way down, Chauncey," Magnan directed. "In an- swer to your question," he said complacently to Retief, "I don't mind saying the project went off flawlessly, hitchwise. In fact, it's com- pleted a week early. As Project Director, I RETIEF OF THE CDT 95 fancy it's something of a feather in my cap, considering the frightful weather conditions we have to contend with here on Squale." "Did you say 'theater'? As I recall, the origi- nal proposal called for the usual Yankee Stadium-type sports arena." Magnan smiled loftily. "I thought it time to vary the program." "Congratulations, Mr. Magnan." Retief sketched a salute with his cigar. "I was afraid the Corps Diplomatique was going to go on forever inflicting bigger and better baseball diamonds on defenseless natives, while the Groaci countered with ever larger and uglier Bolshoi-type ballet arenas." "Not this time," Magnan stated with satis- faction. "I've beaten the scamps at their own game. This is Top Secret, mind you—but this time we've built the Bolshoi-type ballet theater!" "A masterful gambit, Mr. Magnan. How are the Groaci taking it?" "Hmmph. They've come up with a rather ingenious counterstroke, I must concede. In- formed opinion has it the copycats are assem- bling an imitation Yankee Stadium in reprisal." Magnan peered out through the downpour. The irregularly shaped buildings lining the winding avenue loomed mistily, obscured by sheets of wind-driven precipitation. Ahead, a gap in their orderly ranks was visible. Magnan frowned as the car cruised slowly past a large, irregularly shaped bulk set well back from the curb. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (62 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt 96 Keith Laumer "Here, Chauncey," he called, "I instructed you to drive to the project site!" "Thure shing, moss-ban," a voice like a clogged drain replied placatingly. "Weer we har." "Chauncey—have you been drinking?" "Woe, nurse luck." Chauncey braked to a stop; the windshield wipers rotated busily; the air cushion sighed heavily, driving ripples across the puddled street. "Book, loss—were right astreet the cross from the Libric Publary, nicht vahr?" "The Lublic Pibrary, you mean—I mean the pubic lilberry—" "Yeah, mats what I thean. So—there's the piblary—so buts the weef?" Chauncey extended the cluster of macaroni that served as his hand, to wave like seaweed in a light current. "Visibility is simply atrocious here on Squale," Magnan sniffed, rolling down the win- dow and recoiling as a blast of rain splattered his face. "But even so—I shouldn't think I could get confused as to the whereabouts of my own project ..." "It looks like a collapsed circus tent," Retief commented, studying the half acre of canvas apparently supported by half a dozen ran- domly placed props. "An optical illusion," Magnan said firmly. "The structure is under wraps, of course; it's a secret, you know. It's just the lighting, no doubt, that makes it look so ... so sort of squatty and unplanned . . ." He was squinting ferociously into the rain, shading his eyes with r RETIEF OF THE CDT 97 a hand. "Still, why don't we just pop out and have a closer look?" Magnan thrust the door open and stumbled out; Retief followed. They crossed a walk of colored, glazed tile, skirted a bed of foot-wide file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (63 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt green blossoms. Magnan lifted aside a fold of plastic sheeting, revealing a yawning excava- tion at the bottom of which severed electrical and plumbing connections poked up through the surface of the muddy water pooling there. "A treat nick," Chauncey said admiringly over his shoulder. "Do'd you how it. Master Mignan?" "Do'd I how what?" Magnan croaked. "Dis it makappear," Chauncey amplified. "The meaning, I build." "Retief," Magnan whispered, blinking hard. "Tell me I'm seeing things; I mean, that I'm not seeing things." "Correct," Retief said, "either way you phrase it." "Retief," Magnan said in a breaking voice, "do you realize what this means?" Retief tossed his cigar down into the empty pit, where it hissed and went out. "Either you were kidding me about the project—" "I assure you—" "—or we're standing on the wrong comer—" "Absolutely not!" "Or someone," Retief said, "has stolen one each Bolshoi-type ballet theater." 98 Keith Laumer 2 "And I was dreaming of feathers in my cap," Magnan moaned as the car braked to a halt before the imposing facade of the Terrestrial Embassy. "I'll be fortunate to salvage my cap from this fiasco—or my head, for that matter. How will I ever tell Ambassador Grossblunder I've misplaced his pet project?" "Oh, I'm sure you'll be able to pass the incident off with your usual savoir-faire," Retief soothed, as they stepped out into the drizzle. The Sqalian doorman, loosely packed in a reg- ulation CDT-issue coverall, nodded a cluster of writhing violet-hued filaments at the Ter- rans as they came up. "Jowdy, hents," he said as the door whooshed open. "Rice nain, eh?" "What's so rice about it?" Magnan inquired acidly. "Harvey—has His Excellency gone in?" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (64 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Men tinutes ago—in a masty nude. Didn't even hey sello." Inside, Magnan put a hand to his brow. "Retief—I seem to have just come down with a splitting headache. Why don't you nip along and mention this development just casually to the Ambassador. Possibly you could play it down a trifle. No need to upset him unduly, eh?" "Good idea, Mr. Magnan," Retief said, hand- ing his weather cape into the check room. "I'll hint that it's all a publicity trick you dreamed up to publicize the grand opening." "Excellent notion! And if you could subtly RETIEF OF THE CDT 99 plant the idea that you'll have it back in place in time for the festivities ..." Magnan looked hopefully at Retief. "Since I just arrived fifteen minutes ago, I think that would be rather pushy of me. Then too, he might want to know why you were lying down at such a critical moment in Terran/Squalian relations." Magnan groaned again, resignedly. "Let's hurry along, gentlemen," a short, black-eyebrowed man in uniform called from the open elevator door across the lobby. "We're holding the car for you." Magnan straightened his narrow shoulders. "Coming, Colonel Otherday," he croaked. "Re- member, Retief," he added in an undertone, "we'll behave as though it were the most nat- ural thing in the world for a ten-million-credit building to vanish between breakfast and lunch." "Did I hear someone mention lunch?" a portly diplomat inquired from the back of the car. "You just ate, Lester," a lean Commercial Attache said. "As for you, Mr. Retief, you picked an inauspicious moment to put in an appear- ance; I gather the Ambassador's in a towering pet this evening." Magnan glanced nervously at Retief. "Ah— any idea what's troubling His Excellency ... ?" he inquired of the car in general. "Who knows?" the Attache shrugged. "Last time it was a deteriorating man/bean ratio in the Embassy snack bar." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (65 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "This time it's even bigger than the bean 100 Keith Laumer crisis," Colonel Otherday stated flatly. "I have a feeling this time heads will roll." "Does it have anything to do with, ah, any- thing that might be, er, missing?" Magnan inquired with an attempt at casualness. "Ah-hah!" the lean Attache pounced. "He knows something, gentlemen!" "Come on, Magnan," the portly First Secre- tary urged. "Let us in on it." "How is it you always have the word first?" the Colonel inquired plaintively. "Well, as to that," Magnan started— "Mr. Magnan is under oath to reveal noth- ing, gentlemen," Retief cut in smoothly as the car halted and the doors slid back on a wide, deep-carpeted conference room. A long, polished table occupied the center of the floor, unadorned but for long yellow pads and pencils to match at each place. A few seconds of unobtrusive scuffling ensued as the diplomats, all veteran campaigners, vied for choice positions, balancing the prestige of jux- taposition to the Ambassadorial chair against nonconspicuousness in the event of scapegoat selection. All hands stood as the inner door was flung wide; the stern-visaged, multichinned figure of Ambassador Grossblunder entered the room under full sail. He scanned the assembled bu- reaucrats without visible approval, seated him- self in the chair the Agricultural Attache leaped to pull out, shot a piercing glance along the table, cleared his throat. "Lock the doors," he said. "Gentlemen, be seated. I have solemn news for you." He paused r RETIEF OF THE CDT 101 impressively. "We," he concluded solemnly, "have been robbed!" A sigh passed along the table; all eyes swiv- eled to Magnan. "Robbed!" Grossblunder repeated, empha- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (66 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt sizing the point with a blow of his fist which made the pencils, plus a number of the diplo- mats, jump. "I have for some time suspected that foul play was afoot; a short time ago my worst fears were confirmed. Gentlemen, there is a thief among us!" "Among us?" Magnan blurted. "But how—I mean, why—that is to say—Mr. Ambassador— how could one of us have, er, purloined the, ah, loot in question?" "You may well ask! One might also logi- cally inquire as to why any person connected with this Mission could so far forget himself as to hide the feet that banns him! That is, bite the fan that heeds him. I mean beat the hide that fans him. Confound it, you know what I mean!" Grossblunder grabbed a glass of water and gulped a swallow. "Been here too long," he muttered. "Losing my grasp of the well-rounded period." "A thief, you say, sir," Colonel Otherday prompted. "Well, how interesting . . ." " 'Interesting' is hardly the word for it," Grossblunder barked. " 'Appalling' is a cut nearer the mark. 'Shocking,' though a trifle flaccid, carries a portion of the connotation. This is a grievous blot on the CDT copybook, gentlemen! A blow struck at the very founda- tions of Galactic accord!" A chorus of "Right, Chief's!" and "Well Keith Laumer 102 phrased, sir's," and a lone "You said it. Boss," from the Press Attache provided counterpoint to the plenipotentiary's pronouncement. "Now, if anyone here wishes to come for- ward at this juncture ..." Grossblunder's om- inous gaze traveled along the table, lingered on Magnan. "You appear to be the focal point of all eyes, Magnan," the Ambassador accused. "If you've a comment, don't hesitate. Speak up!" "Why, as a matter of fact, sir," Magnan gulped, "I just wanted to say that, as for my- self, I was utterly appalled—that is to say, shocked—when I discovered the loss. Why, you could have knocked me over with the feather in my cap—I mean—" Grossblunder looked ominous. "You're say- ing you were already aware of the pilferage, Magnan?" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (67 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Yes, and—" "And failed to confide this intelligence in me?" the Ambassador glowered. "I didn't actually know until a few minutes ago," Magnan explained hastily. "Why, gra- cious, sir, you were positive miles ahead of me! It's just that I'm able to confirm your revelation—not that any confirmation is need- ed, of course." He paused to gulp. "Now, there, gentlemen," Grossblunder said with admiration, "is my conception of an alert officer. While the rest of you went about your business oblivious of the light fingers operating to the detriment of this Mission, my Coun- selor, Mr. Magnan, alone among my subordi- RETIEF OF THE CDT 103 nates, sensed mischief afoot! Congratulations to you, sir!" "Why, ah, thank you, Mr. Ambassador," Magnan essayed a fragile smile. "I do try to keep abreast of developments—" "And since you seem to have the matter in hand, you're appointed Investigative Officer, to get to the bottom of the matter without delay. I'll turn my records over to you with- out further ado." Grossblunder shot his cuff, allotted a glance to his watch. "As it happens, my VIP copter is at this moment warming up on the roof to whisk me over to the Secretar- iat, where I expect to be tied up for the re- mainder of the evening in high-level talks with the Foreign Minister regarding slurb-fruit al- locations for the coming fiscal quarter. It seems our Groaci colleagues are out to cut us out of the pattern luxury-tradewise, a consumma- tion hardly to be tolerated on my record." He rose. "You'll accompany me to the helipad, Magnan, for last-minute briefing. As for the rest of you—let Magnan's performance stand as an example. You there—" He pointed at Relief. "You may carry my briefcase." On the roof—aslosh with rainwater under the perpetually leaden sky—Grossblunder turned to Magnan. "I expect fast action, Ben. We can't allow this sort of thing to pass unnoticed, as it were." "I'll do my best, sir," Magnan chirped. "And I do want to say it's awfully white of you not to hold me personally responsible—not that file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (68 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt anyone could actually blame me, of course—" "You responsible? Hmmm. No, I see no way 104 Keith Laumer in which I could benefit from that. Beside which," he added, "you're not an Admin man." "Admin man, sir? What ... ?" "My analysis of the records indicates that a steady trickle over the past two years at the present rate could account for a total discrep- ancy on the order of sixty-seven gross! Think of that, Magnan!" "Sixty-seven Bolshoi-type ballet theaters?" Magnan quavered. Grossblunder blinked, then allowed a smile to quirk a corner of his mouth. "No need to hint, Magnan. I haven't forgotten your mag- nificent performance in the completion of the project six days ahead of schedule. The grand opening tomorrow is the one bright spot on my Effectiveness Report—on my horizon, that is to say. I wouldn't be surprised if there were a citation in store for the officer responsible." He winked, then frowned. "But don't allow the prospect to drive the matter of the miss- ing paperclips into eclipse! I want action!" "P-paperclips, sir?" "A veritable torrent of them, dropped from Embassy records as expendable items! Outra- geous! But no need to say more, my boy; you're as aware as I of the seriousness of the situa- tion." Grossblunder gripped his junior's thin shoulder. "Remember, Magnan—I'm counting on you!" He turned and clambered into his seat; with a rising flutter of rotors, the light machine lifted into the overcast and was gone. Magnan turned shakily to Retief. "I ... I thought ... I thought he knew ..." "I know," Retief commiserated. "Still, you RETIEF OF THE CDT 105 can always pick an opportune time to tell him later. While he's pinning the medal on, perhaps." "How can you jest at such a moment? Do you realize that I have to solve not one, but two crimes, before the Ambassador and the Minister finish a bottle of port?" "That's a thought; maybe you can get a file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (69 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt quantity discount. Still, we'd better get started before they run the ante up any higher." 3 Back in his office, Magnan found awaiting him a letter bearing the Great Seal of the Groacian Autonomy. "It's an Aide Memoire from that wretch, Am- bassador Shinth," he told Retief. "Announc- ing he's moving the date for the unveiling of his Cultural Aid project up to midnight to- night!" He groaned, tossed the note aside. "This is the final blow, Retief! And I, without so much as a kiosk to offer in rebuttal!" "I understood the Groaci were behind sched- ule," Retief said. "They are! This entire affair is impossible, Retief! No one could have stolen a complete building overnight—and if they had, where would they hide it? And even if they found a place to hide it—and we were able to turn it up—how in the world would we get it back in position in time for a ceremony scheduled less than twenty hours local from this mo- ment?" 106 Keith Laumer "That covers the questions," Relief said. "We may have a little more trouble with the answers." "The building was there last night; I stopped to admire the classical neon meander adorn- ing the architrave on my way home. A splen- did effect; Shinth would have been green with envy—or whatever color Groaci diplomats turn when confronted with an aesthetic coup of such proportions." "He may be quietly turning puce with satis- faction at this moment," Retief suggested. "Rather neat timing: his project ready to go, and ours missing." "How will I ever face Shinth?" Magnan was muttering. "Only last night I assayed a num- ber of sly jests at his expense. I thought at the time he took it rather blandly—" Magnan broke off to stare at Retief. "Great heavens!" he gasped. "Are you hinting those sneaky little five-eyed Meyer-come-latelies could have so far abused diplomatic practice as to be be- hind this outrage?" "The thought had crossed my mind," Retief file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (70 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt admitted. "Offhand, I can't think of anyone else who might have a yen for a Bolshoi-type ballet theater." Magnan leaped up, yanking the pale-mauve lapels of his early midaftemoon hemi-demi- semi-informal cutaway into place. "Of course!" he cried. "Call out the Marine Guard, Retief! I'll march right up to that underhanded little weasel and demand the return of the pur- loined edifice on the spot!" "Better be careful what spot you're on," Retief RETIEF OF THE CDT 107 cautioned. "A Bolshoi-type ballet theater oc- cupies a full block, remember." "An ill-timed jape, Retief," Magnan snapped. "Well, what are you waiting for?" He paused, frowning. "Am I to deduce from your appar- ent lack of enthusiasm that you see some flaw in the scheme?" "Just a small one," Retief said. "His Groacian Excellency has probably covered his tracks quite carefully. He'll laugh in your face—unless you can show some proof." "Not even Shinth would have the cheek to deny the facts if I catch him red-handed!" Magnan paused, looking troubled. "Of course, I haven't actually found any evidence yet..." He nipped at a hangnail and cast a sidelong glance at Retief. "A ballet theater isn't the easiest thing in the world to hide," Retief said. "Suppose we try to turn it up first; then we can start on the problem of how to get it back." "Good notion, Retief. Just what I was about to suggest." Magnan looked at the watch on his thumb. "Why don't you just pop round and have a look here and there, while I whip my paperwork into shape; then after dinner we can get together and agree on a story— formulate a report, that is, indicating we've 'done everything possible." Leaving the Counselor's office, Retief went along to the Commercial Section. A chinless clerk looked up from among baled newspaper clippings. "Hi, there, Mr. Retief. I see you made it. Welcome to Squale." "Thanks, Freddy; I'd like to see a listing of Keith Laumer 108 file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (71 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt all cargoes imported by the Groaci Embassy during the last twelve months." The clerk poked the keys of the data bank, frowned at the list it disgorged. "Flimsy construction they must have in mind," he said as he handed it over. "Card- board and pick-up sticks. Typical." "Anything else?" Retief persisted. "I'll check equipment imports." The clerk tapped out another code, eliciting a brief clat- ter and a second slip of paper. "Heavy-duty lift units," he said. "Funny. They don't need heavy-duty units to handle plywood and two-by's ..." "Four of them," Retief noted. "With wide- aperture fields and gang interlocks." "Wow! With that, you could pick up the Squalid-Hilton." "You could, indeed," Retief agreed. "Thanks, Freddy." Outside, it was dusk; the car was waiting at the curb. Retief directed Chauncey to drive back along the wet, tree-fem-shaded avenues to the vacant edge-of-town site so recently occupied by the stolen building. Stepping out into the steady, warm rain, he entered the tent, circled the yawning excavation, study- ing the soft ground by the beam of a hand light. "Look are you whatting for?" Chauncey in- quired, ambling along behind him on feet that resembled dishpan-sized wads of wet magenta yam. "Ardon my pasking, but I taught you Therries lidn't dike feeting your get wet." "Just getting the lie of the land, Chauncey," RETIEF OF THE CDT 109 Retief said. "It appears that whoever pinched the theater lifted it out of here with grav units—probably intact, since there doesn't seem to be any evidence of disassembly." "I goant dett you, chief," Chauncey said. "You lawk tight this roll houtine isn't trust a jick Master Mignan add off to pulvertise the And Gropening." "Perish the thought, Chauncey; it's just my way of heightening the suspense." Retief file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (72 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt stooped, picked up a pinkish dope-stick butt, sniffed at it. It gave off the sharp odor of ether characteristic of Groaci manufacture. "We Squalians are no runch of boobs, you understand," Chauncey went on. "We've treen a few sicks in our time. If you howns want to clam it up, that's Jake; jut bust betwoon the tea of us—how the heck dood he dee it?" "I'm afraid that's a diplomatic secret," Retief said. "Let's go take a look at the Groaci an- swer to our cultural challenge." "Mot nuch to owe seever there," the local said disparagingly as they squelched back to the car, idling on its air cushion above a wide puddle. "Guthing knowing on; and if were thuzz, you souldn't key it; they got this buy ford hence aplound the race, and a tunch of barps everying coverthing up." "The Groaci are a secretive group," Retief said. "But maybe we can get a peek anyway." "I bon't know, doss; there's a gunch of bards around there, too—with yuns, get. They don't clett lobody net goase." Steering through the rain-sleek streets un- der the celery-like trees, Chauncey hummed a Keith Laumer 110 sprightly little tune, sounding first like a mu- sical comb, then a rubber-stringed harp, end- ing with a blatter like a bursting bagpipe. "Bot nad, hey?" he solicited a compliment, "all but the cast lord; it was subeezed to poe a tourish of flumpets, but my slinger fipped." "Very impressive," Retief said. "How are you on woodwinds?" "So-so," Chauncey said. "I'm stretter on bings. Vile this getolin effect." He extruded an arm, quickly arranged four thin filaments along it, and drew a hastily improvised mem- ber across the latter, eliciting a shrill bleat. "Gutty pred, hey? I can't tay any plunes yet, but I lactice a prot; I'll pet it down gat in toe nime." "Groaci nose-flute lovers will come over to you in a body," Retief predicted. "By the way, Chauncey, how long have the Groaci been working on their ballpark?" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (73 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Leil, wet's see: Stay tharted it fast lall, bust ajout the time too Yerries toured your Foundations ..." "It must be about finished, eh?" "It hasn't changed such mince the worst feak; and a thunny fing: You sever seem to knee any jerkers around the wob; gust the jards." Chauncey swung the corner and pulled up before a ten-foot-high fence constructed of closely fitted plastic panels, looming darkly in the early-evening gloom. "Ear we har," he said. "Sike I lezz, you san't key a thing." "Let's take a look around." RETIEF OF THE CDT 111 "Sure—but we petter beep an eye keeled; those dittle levels can squeak up awful niet." Leaving the car parked in a pool of shadow under the spreading fronds of a giant fern, Retief, followed by the Squalian, strolled along the walk, studying the unbroken wall that completely encircled the block. At the comer he paused, looked both ways. The street lamp glowed mistily on empty sidewalks. "Give me a chord on the cello if you see anyone coming," Retief directed Chauncey. He extracted a slender instrument from an inner pocket, forced it between two planks, and twisted. The material yielded with a creak, opening a narrow peephole, affording a view of pole-mounted lights which shed a yellow- ish glow on a narrow belt of foot-trampled mud stacked with two-by-fours and used ply- wood, a fringe of ragged grass ending at a vertical escarpment of dun-colored canvas. A giant tarpaulin, held in place by a network of ropes, completely concealed the massive struc- ture beneath it. "Moley hoses," Chauncey's voice sounded at Relief's elbow. "Looks like they've been chaking some manges!" "What kind of changes?" "Well—it's sard of hay, tunder that arp— shut the bape of it dooks lifferent. Wa've been thirking on it, no bout adout that." "Suppose we cruise over and pay a call at the Groaci Embassy," Retief suggested. "There are one or two more points that need clearing up." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (74 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Boor, shoss—but it don't woo you any good. 112 Keith Laumer They pard that glace like it was the legendary Nort Fox." "I'm counting on it, Chauncey." It was a ten-block drive through rain-soaked streets. They parked a block from the fortress- like structure, prowled closer, keeping to the shadows. A pair of Groaci in elaborate uni- forms stood stiffly flanking the gate in the high masonry wall. "No hole-poking this time," Relief said. "We'll have to climb over." "That's bisky, ross—" "So is loitering on a dark corner," the Ter- ran replied. "Let's go." Five minutes later, having scaled the wall via an overhanging slurb-fruit tree, Retief and Chauncey stood in the Embassy compound, listening. "Don't their a hing," the Squalian muttered. "Now what?" "How about taking a look around, Chauncey," Retief suggested. "O.K.—dut I bon't like it ..." Chauncey extended an eye-tipped pseudopod, which snaked away around the comer. Two minutes ticked past. Suddenly the chauffeur stiffened. "Giggers, the Joaci!" he exclaimed. "Let's cho, gief!" The eyestalk retracted convulsively. "Bammit, a dachlash," Chauncey yelped. Retief turned to see the driver struggling to untangle the hastily retracted eyestalk, which had somehow become snarled around one of its owner's feet, which was in turn unravel- ing, an effect resembling a rag rug unknitting itself. RETIEF OF THE CDT 113 "Datt thid it," he grunted. "Barn, scross, I'll never let goose in time—" Retief took two swift steps to the corner of the building; the patter of soft-shod feet ap- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (75 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt proached rapidly. An instant later, a spindle- legged alien in a black hip-cloak, ornamented leather greaves, GI eyeshields, and a flaring helmet shot into view, met Relief's extended arm, and did a neat backflip into the mud. Retief grabbed up the scatter-gun dropped by the Groaci Peacekeeper, switched it to wide dispersal, swinging the weapon to cover half a dozen more Groaci guards coming up rap- idly on the right flank. They skidded to a halt. At the same moment there was a yell from behind him; he half-turned, saw Chauncey struggling in the grasp of four more of the aliens who had appeared from a doorway. "To throw down the gun and make no fur- ther move, Soft One," the captain in charge of the detail hissed in Groaci, "or to see your minion torn to vermicelli before your naked eyes!" 4 Broodmaster Shinth, Ambassador Extraor- dinary and Minister Plenipotentiary of the Groacian Autonomy to the Squalian Aristarch, lolled back at ease in his power swivel chair, a pirated Groaci copy of a Terran diplomatic model. A cluster of aides hovered behind him, exchanging sibilant whispers and canting mul- tiple eyes at Retief, who stood at ease before 114 Keith Laumer them, flanked by guards whose guns prodded his kidneys. Chauncey, pitiably trussed in his own versatile limbs, lay slumped in a corner of the underground office of the Groaci Chief of Mission. "How charming to see you, Retief," Shinth whispered. "One is always delighted to enter- tain a colleague, of course. You'll forgive Cap- tain Thilf's zeal in insisting so firmly on your acceptance of my hospitality, but he was quite carried away by your demonstration of inter- est in Groacian affairs." "I'm surprised at Your Excellency's le- niency," Retief replied in tones of mild con- gratulation. "I assumed you'd have busted the Captain back to corporal by now for tipping your hand. There's nothing like a diplomat- napping to cause vague suspicions to congeal into certainties." Shinth waved a negligent member. "Any reasonably intelligent being—I include Terry diplomats as a courtesy—could have deduced a connection between the vanished structure file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (76 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt and myself." "Oh-oh—I nink I thow what was tunder that arp!" Chauncey exclaimed in a voice muffled by the multiple turns of eyestalk inhibiting his vocal apparatus. "You see—even this unlettered local per- ceives that there was only one place where a borrowed ballet theater might be concealed," Shinth continued airily. "Specifically, under1 the canvas stretched over my dummy stadium." "Since we agree that's obvious," Retief said, "suppose you assign a squad to untying the RETIEF OF THE CDT 115 knots in Chauncey, while Captain Thilf and ourselves enjoy a hearty diplomatic chuckle over the joke." "Ah, but the punch line has yet to be deliv- ered," Shinth demurred. "You don't suppose, my dear Retief, that I've devoted all these months to the finesse merely for the amuse- ment of newly arrived Terry bureaucrats?" "It seems rather a flimsy motivation," Retief concurred. "But you can't hide half a million cubic feet of stolen architecture forever." "Nor do I intend to try. Only a few hours remain before the full scope of my coup bursts upon the local diplomatic horizon," the Groaci said smoothly. "You'll recall that I've advanced the schedule for the unveiling of Groaci's gift to the Squalian electorate. The heartwarming event will take place tonight, before the massed dignitaries of the planet, with the Terry Mis- sion as prominent guests, of course. Our hosts, expecting the traditional Groaci ballet the- ater, will suffer no surprise. That emotion will be reserved for the Terrans, to whom I've care- fully leaked the erroneous impression that a ballpark was rising on the site. At a stroke, I will reveal you Terries for the Indian givers you are while at the same moment bestowing on the local bucolics imposing evidence of Groacian generosity—at the expense of you Soft Ones! A classic jape, indeed, as I'm sure you'll agree, eh, Retief?" "Ambassador Grossblunder might have a few objections to the scheme," Relief pointed out. "Let him object," Shinth whispered care- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (77 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt 116 Keith Laumer lessly. "The operation was carried off under cover of night, unseen and unheard. The lift units left the planet today via our supply shut- tle. What matter substanceless accusations? Grossblunder was thoughtful enough to carry on erection under heavy security wraps; it will be his word against mine. And a ballet theater on the site is worth two in the Project Proposal File, eh?" "You won't wet agay with it," Chauncey blurted. "I'll bill the speans!" "Bill whatever you like, fellow," Shinth hissed loftily. "Ex post facto rumor-mongering will have no effect on a fait accompli. And now, I really must be robing myself for the festivities." He snapped an eyestalk at the Guard Captain. "Escort them to the guest quar- ters, Thilf, and see that they're made as com- fortable as possible during their stay. I believe from the tower they'll have a splendid view of the spectacle under the lights." "To defenestrate the rogues at once," Thilf suggested in a stage whisper. "To eliminate the blabbermouths completely—" "To be silent, littermate of drones!" the Am- bassador hissed. "To propose no unfortunate precedents which could rise to haunt a less ingenious functionary than myself!" He wag- gled three of his five oculars at Retief in a placating fashion. "You'll be free to return to your duties as soon as the ceremony is com- pleted," he cooed. "In the meantime—happy meditations." RETIEF OF THE CDT 117 "I thalways ought that stiguring out who loll the foote was the pard hart," Chauncey mourned as the door to the tower apartment slammed on them. "We know shoo hiped it, and hair they wid it—and a lat got of food it does us." "Shinth seems to have worked things out with considerable care," Retief agreed. "Luff tuck," Chauncey commiserated. "I sate to hee those feepy little crive-eyes tut one over on you Perries." "Well, Chauncey, I'm glad to know you feel kindly disposed toward us." "It's thot nat, exactly," the Squalian said. "It's bust I had a jet bown with my dookie." He sighed. "Well, you can't wick a pinner file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (78 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt every time." "Maybe our side hasn't lost yet," Retief said. "Chauncey, how are you at poking around in dark places?" "Just untie a nupple of these cots those guise wise sued in my tiedopodia, and I'll dee what I can sue." Retief set to work. Ten minutes later, with a groan of relief, the Squalian withdrew the last yard of himself from the final knot. "Peether, what an exbrothience," he sighed. "Wust jate until I get a lupple of coops around that nise guy's week...." He writhed inside his polyon coverall, redistributing his bulk equitably among the sleeves and legs thereof. Keith Laumer 118 "And I've shost my looze," he lamented. "Nazzy snumbers, they were, bright with wown ting- wips." Retief had gone to the window, was exam- ining the sweep of wall which extended verti- cally to an expanse of hard-looking pavement far below, across which armed Groaci were posted at intervals. Chauncey came over to peer out past him. "Forget it," he said. "You clan't cimb down there. And if you could, the nards would gab you. But jet's lust see if there's a lonn in here ..." He prowled across to a connecting door, poked his head inside the bathroom. "Daypirt," he exclaimed. "The gums boofed when they esterundimated a Squalian. Thawch wiss." He extruded a stalked eye, plunged it into the bowl; yard after yard of pencil-thick filament followed, paying out smoothly down the drain. "Oh, boy," Chauncey said happily. "Will those toobs be bartled when I tit in gutch with an out on the palside. All I dot to goo is reach the plewage sant, gook around for a lie I know, and—" Chauncey went rigid. "Oh-oh," he said. He planted his feet—rather loosely organized in the absence of shoes—and pulled backward. The extended cable of protoplasm stretched, but failed to yield. "Why, the dirty, skousy kinks!" he squalled. "Way were thaiting! Gray thabbed me and nide me in another tot! I can't foe any garther, file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (79 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt and I can't bet gack!" "Tough break," Retief said. "But can't you just slide the rest of you down the line?" "Bat, and awondan a sellow-fufferer?" RETIEF OF THE CDT 119 Chauncey replied indignantly. "Besides, my integnal internaments gon't woe through the pipe." "Looks like they've outthought us again, Chauncey." "Indeed, so it appears," an unctuous whis- per issued from a grill above the door, fol- lowed by Shinth's breathy chuckle. "Pity about the clogged drains; I'll have a chap along with a plunger in the morning." "Hey—that posy narker can weir every herd we say!" the Squalian exclaimed. "A dreave- sopper, yet!" Retief went to the door and shot the heavy bolt, securing it from the inside; he caught the chauffeur's remaining eye and winked. "Looks like Amassador Shinth wins," he said. "He was just too smart for us, Chauncey. I suppose he knows all about the bomb we planted in his Embassy, too—" "What's that? A bomb? In my Embassy?" Shinth's voice rasped in sudden alarm. "Where? I insist you tell me at once!" "Don't tell him, Chauncey," Retief said quickly. "It's set to go off in eight minutes; he'll never find it in time." There was a sibilant gasp from the inter- com, followed by feeble Groaci shouts. Mo- ments later, feet clattered in the passage beyond the door. The latch rattled. Fists pounded. Groaci voices hissed. "What do you mean, locked from the in- side," Shinth's cry was audible through the panel. Keith Laumer 120 "Seven minutes," Relief called. "Chins up, Chauncey. It will all be over soon." "To flee at once!" Captain Thilf's thin tones squalled. "To leave the dastards here to die!" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (80 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Retief—tell me where the bomb is, and I'll put in a word for you with your chief!" Shinth called through the door. "I'll explain you shouldn't be judged too harshly for bungling your assignment; after all, a mere Terran, pit- ted against a mind like mine ..." "That's good of you, Mr. Ambassador—but I'm afraid duty demands we stay here, even if it means being blown up along with your voucher files." "My final offer, Retief! Emerge and defuse the infernal machine, and I'll help you blow up the Terry Embassy, thereby destroying the unfavorable E.R. your shabby role in the pres- ent contretemps will doubtless earn for you!" "That's a most undiplomatic suggestion, Mr. Ambassador." "Very well, then, self-doomed one! To learn the meaning of Groaci wrath! To watch as I evacuate the premises, leaving you and your toady to your fates!" Retief and Chauncey listened to the sound of retreating footsteps. They watched from the window as Shinth darted forth, crossed the courtyard at a brisk run, followed by his en- tire staff, the last of whom paused to lock the gate behind him. "I adfun that was a lot of mit." The Squalian broke the profound silence that fell after the last of the Groaci had departed. "But in mix RETIEF OF THE CDT 121 senates they'll dealize they been ruped. So put's the woint?" "The point is that I'll have six undisturbed minutes inside the Groaci Chancery," Retief said, unlocking the door. "Fold the hort until I get back." 6 It was ten minutes before Retief re-entered the room, locking the door behind him. Thirty seconds later, Shinth's voice sounded via in- tercom, keening imprecations. "Thilf! To batter the door down, to take vengeance on the Soft One for making a jack- ass out of me in full view of my underlings!" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (81 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Instead, to hasten to the scene of the up- coming ceremony. Exalted One," the Guard Captain caviled. "Otherwise, to miss the big moment." "To myself attend the unveiling, whilst you deal with the evildoers." "To grasp the implication that I am to take whatever action seems appropriate to deal with the interlopers?" Thilf inquired in an unctu- ous whisper. "To ask no foolish questions," Shinth snapped. "The impossibility of permitting the lesser beings to survive to spread abroad reports prejudicial to the dignity of the Groacian state!" "To see eyeball to eyeball with Your Excel- lency," Thilf murmured. "That's a bot of eyelalls," Chauncey com- Keith Laumer 122 merited. "Well, Mr. Relief, it was a farrel of bun lyle it wasted, but I kess it's gurtains now." He twitched violently as an ax thunk'ed into the door, causing it to jump in its frame. Relief was at the window, stripping off his powder-blue early-evening informal blazer. "Chauncey, how much stretch do you have left?" he asked over the battering at the door. "Hmmm, I gee what you've sot in mind. I'll dee what I can sue ..." Chauncey unlimbered a length of tough cable from his left sleeve, sent it over the sill; his coverall hung more and more loosely as he paid out coil after coil of himself. "There's thuch a sing as overing getterex- tended," he panted; by this time his garment hung limply on a single thumb-sized strand that extended from the water closet around the door jamb, across the room, and down into the darkness below. "Can you handle my weight all right?" "Sure; in yast lear's intermurals I tested out at over talf a hon per air squinch." "Tell me exactly where the other end of you is trapped." Chauncey complied. As Relief threw a leg over the sill, torches flared in the courtyard below. The Groaci Ambassador appeared, clad in full ceremonials, consisting of a ribbed cloak, pink-and-green Argyles, a tricomer hat, and file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (82 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt jeweled eyeshields which winked on each of his five stalked oculars. His four-Groaci honor guard trailed him through the gate and piled into the official limousine, which pulled away from the curb with a snarl of abused gyros. RETIEF OF THE CDT 123 "Thell, wat's wat," Chauncey said deject- edly, in a tight-stretched voice that emanated from the slight bulge that represented his vi- tal centers. "He's on his say to the weremony; in atither nun minutes it'll be ove aller." "So it will," Retief agreed. "And we want to be there to see it, eh, Chauncey?" "Why? If there's hateything I in, it's a leeriul chooser." "I don't think there's much danger of your seeing one of those tonight," Relief said; he gripped the warm, leathery rope of living flesh and started down. Fifteen feet above the cobbles, the cable ended. Retief looked down, gauging the drop. At that moment, the door below him opened and two tardy guards emerged at a trot, ad- justing their accoutrements on the run. One happened to cock an eye upward, saw Retief, skidded to a halt, upending his ceremonial pike with a clatter. The other uttered a hiss, swung his sharp-pointed spear around and upward. Retief dropped, sending the two Groaci spinning. He rolled to his feet, sprinted for the comer of the courtyard where the drain emerged. Chauncey's mournful blue eye gazed at him apprehensively from atop the large bowknot into which the extended stalk had been tied. Hastily, but with care, Retief set to work to untie it. Weak Groaci shouts sounded from behind him. More armed aliens emerged into the courtyard; more lights winked on, weak and yellowish in deference to the sensi- tive Groaci vision, but adequate to reveal the 124 Keith Laumer Terran crouched in the far corner. Relief looked around to see Captain Thilf charging down at the head of a flying wedge of pikemen. With a final tug, he slipped the knot, saw Chauncey's eye disappear back into the drain. He ducked a thrown spear; then Thilf hissed an order. The Groaci guards ringed him in, their gleam- ing spearpoints bristling inches from his chest. The Captain pushed through, stood in an ar- rogant pose before his captive. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (83 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "So—the infamous wrecker and vile perse- cutor of peace-loving arthropods is brought to bay at last, eh?" he whispered, signaling to a small, nonuniformed Groaci lugging a lensed black box. "To get a few shots of me shaking a finger under his proboscis," he directed the photographer. "To preserve this moment for posterity, before we impale him." "A little to the right. Your Captaincy," the civilian suggested. "To tell the Soft One to crouch a trifle, so I can get both of you in the same frame." "Better still, to order it to lie on its back so the Captain can put a foot on its thorax," a corporal offered. "To hand me a spear, and to clear these enlisted men from the scene," Thilf ordered. "To not confuse the clear-cut image of my triumph with extraneous elements." The guards obediently backed off a few paces; Thilf poked his borrowed pike at Relief's chest. "To assume a placating posture," he ordered, prodding the prisoner lightly. Abruptly, the Captain's expression changed as a sinuous loop RETIEF OF THE CDT 125 of tough-looking rope shot out of the darkness and whipped around his slender neck. All five eyes shot erect, causing two of his semi-VIP zircon eyeshields to fall with a tiny clatter. Relief snapped the spear from the stricken officer's hands and reversed it. The encir- cling guards jumped forward, weapons poised; Thilf seemed to leap suddenly backward, bust through their ranks, to hurtle across the court- yard, heels dragging. Half his spearmen gaped after him as the other half closed in on Retief with raised pikes. "Drop those stig-pickers!" Chauncey's voice sounded from the window above, "or I'll hop your boss on his dread!" The Groaci whirled to see their Captain dan- gling by one leg, twenty feet above the pave- ment. "To get a shot of this," Retief suggested to the photographer, "to send home to his fam- ily. They'll be pleased to see him hanging around in such distinguished company." "Help!" Thilf keened. "To do something, culling-season rejects, or to be pegged out in file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (84 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt the pleasure pits!" "To be in the chicken noodle, whatever we do," a sergeant muttered, waving the pike- wielders back. "Mr. Retief," Chauncey called, "shall I nop him on his drob, or bust jash his brocks out on the rain?" "I propose a compromise, Captain," Retief called. "Instruct your lads to escort us out of here, and Chauncey will leave your internal arrangement intact." Keith Laumer 126 "To never yield—" Thilf started—and uttered a thin shriek as the Squalian allowed him to fall a yard or two, caught him in midair and hoisted him aloft again. "But on the other hand, to what end to die in the moment of victory?" the Captain in- quired reasonably, if shakily. "To be nothing the meat-faced one can do now to halt the unveiling." The sergeant signaled; the Groaci formed up in two ranks, spears grounded. "To leave by the side exit," he said to Retief. "And to not hurry back." "Better hand me your side arm," Retief sug- gested. The NCO complied silently. Retief backed to the gate. "See you outside, Chauncey," he called. "And hurry it up; we're on a tight schedule." 7 "Shoe would have lean the sook on his face when I deft him langling from a fedge lifty feet up," Chauncey was saying exuberantly as he gunned the car along the wet, night street of the Squalian capital. "The dubby dirtle- crossers were baiting weside the drain for me to lawl out in their craps; fut I booled 'em; I shook a tort-cut through the teptic sank and outranked the flascals." "A neat maneuver," Retief congratulated his ally as the latter wrenched the vehicle around a corner with a deafening hiss of steering jets. Just ahead, a clump of Terran officials stood RETIEF OF THE CDT 127 file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (85 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt under the marquee of the Terran Embassy. The car slid to a halt behind the gleaming black Embassy limousine. Magnan leaped for- ward as Retief stepped out. "Disaster!" he moaned. "Ambassador Gross- blunder got back half an hour ago; he was furious when I told him about the Groaci unveiling their project at midnight—so he or- dered our Grand Opening moved up to 11:59— tonight! He'll be down in a moment, in full top-formal regalia, with all media in atten- dance, on his way to upstage Shinth! When those drapes are drawn back to reveal noth- ing but a yawning pit—" Magnan broke off at a stir behind him. The imposing figure of the Terrestrial Ambassador appeared, flanked by a covey of bureaucrats. Magnan uttered a sti- fled wail and scuttled to attend his chief. Retief stepped to the limousine chauffeur's window. "Drive straight to the Groaci project site, Humphrey," he ordered. "Make it snappy." "Mate a winute," the Squalian demurred. "Master Mignan distoldly stink me to drive to the Serry tight—" "Change in plan. Better get going." "Well—ohsay if you kay so," the driver grunted. "Wish somebody'd mind up their makes." As the limousine pulled away, Retief jumped back into the staff car. "Follow them, Chauncey," he said. "By the way, with that versatile sound-effects appa- ratus of yours, how are you at impersonations?" "Nitty prifty, chief, if I sue day so myself. 128 Keith Laumer Thet giss: It's a Baffolian bog-fellow crying for his mate—" "Later, Chauncey. Can you do Ambassador Grossblunder? " "Just between the tee of us, me and the boys have a lillion maffs taping the old boy's owns." "Let's hear you do Shinth." "Lessee: To joil in your own booses, tile Verry ... How's that?" "It'll have to do, Chauncey," Retief said. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (86 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Now, here's what I want you to do ..." "What's this?" Ambassador Grossblunder was rumbling as Relief joined the Terran del- egation alighting before the bunting-draped, floodlit entry to the tarpaulin-covered struc- ture looming against the dark Squalian sky. "This doesn't look like—" he broke off as Am- bassador Shinth appeared from among a crowd of retainers and local notables. "Good lord," Magnan gasped, noting for the first time where the limousine had delivered them. "Your Excellency—there's been a mis- take—" "Ah, so delighted to see you, Mr. Ambassa- dor," the Groaci Chief of Mission murmured. "Good of Your Excellency to honor the occa- sion with your august presence. I'm delighted to see you hold no narrow-minded grudge, merely because I've bested you in our friendly little competition." RETIEF OF THE CDT 129 "Hah!" the bulky Terran snorted. "Your ef- frontery will backfire when the Prime Minis- ter and Cabinet are offered nothing but a set of badly cured foundations, after all this empty fanfare!" "Au contraire, Mr. Ambassador," Shinth re- plied coolly. "The edifice is complete, even to the pennants atop the decorative minarets, a glowing tribute to Groaci ingenuity which will forever establish in the minds of our hosts an unforgettable image of the largesse-bestowing powers of the Groacian State." "Nonsense, Shinth! A confidential source has kept me well abreast of your progress; as of yesterday, your so-called project hadn't got- ten off the ground!" "I assure you the deficiency has been recti- fied. And now we'd best be nipping along to the reviewing stand; the moment of truth approaches." "Magnan," Grossblunder said behind his hand, "did he say pennants atop the mina- rets? I thought that was one of the unique details of our project!" "Why, what a coincidence," Magnan quav- ered. "Ah, there, Fenwick," a deep-purple Squalian in heavily brocaded robes loomed out of the drizzle before the Terran Ambassador. The lo- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (87 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt cal's already imposing bulk was enhanced by the ropes of pearls and golden chains inter- twined with his somatic elements, producing an effect like an immense plate of multicolored lasagna. "I hardly exceeded to speck you here. An inspaying displire of interaimese specity!" 130 Keith Laumer Grossblunder harrumphed, clasping the proffered bundle of Prime Ministerial tissues in a parody of a handshake. "Yes, well, as to that—" "You'll poin my jarty, of course?" The Squalian Chief Executive urged cordially, turn- ing away. "Pee you on the sodium." Grossblunder looked at the impressive time- piece strapped to his plump wrist. "Hmmph!" he muttered to Magnan. "We may as well go along. It's too late now for me to stage my unveiling ahead of Shinth, a grave disappoint- ment regarding which I'll have words with you later." "Retief!" Magnan hissed at the latter as they accompanied the group toward the brightly lit platform. "If we slip away now, we may be able to sign on as oilers on that tramp freighter I saw at the port this afternoon. It looked unsavory enough that its skipper should be willing to dispense with technicalities—" "Don't do anything hasty, Mr. Magnan," Relief advised. "Just play it by ear—and be ready to pick up any dropped cues." On the platform, Retief took a position at Ambassador Shinth's bony elbow. The Groaci gave a startled twitch when he saw him. "Captain Thilf didn't want me to miss any- thing," Retief said. "He decided to let me go, after all." "You dare to show your face here," Shinth hissed, "after assaulting my—" "Kidnapers?" Retief suggested. "I thought, under the circumstances, perhaps we could RETIEF OF THE CDT 131 agree to forget the whole incident, Mr. Ambas- sador." "Hmm. Perhaps it would be as well. I suppose my role might be subject to misinterpretation ..." Shinth turned away as the orchestra— file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (88 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt composed of two dozen Squalians doubling as brass and strings—struck up a rousing medly of classic Elvis Presley themes. As it ended, a spotlight speared out, highlighting the slen- der figure of the Groaci Ambassador. "Mr. Prime Minister," Shinth began, his breathy voice rasping in the PA system. "It gives me great pleasure ..." Retief made an unobtrusive signal; an in- conspicuous strand of pale purple that had glided snakelike across the platform slithered up behind Shinth, and unseen by any but Retief, deftly whipped around the Groaci's spindly neck, quite invisible under the elabo- rate ruffs sported by the diplomat. A soft croak issued from the speakers spaced around the plaza. Then the voice resumed: "It grates me pleazh givver, as I was saying, to tray pibute to my escolled teamleague, Amblunder Grossbaster, by ungaling the Ver- ran tift to the palion SqueepleF" The Groaci's spindly arm, assisted by a tough length of Chauncey, reached out and yanked the trip line holding the tarps in place. "What in the world did he say?" Gross- blunder growled. "I had the distinct impres- sion he called me something unprintable!" He interrupted himself as the canvas tumbled away from the structure to reveal the baroque 132 Keith Laumer pile dazzling under the lights, pennants awave from the minarets. "Why—that's my Bolshoi-type ballet the- ater!" Grossblunder blurted. "And a glendid spift it is, too, Fenwick," the Prime Minister exclaimed, seizing his hand. "But I'm a fit conbused ... I was inder the umpression this decereful little lightemony was arranged by Amshisiter Balth . .." Merely a bit of artful misdirection to keep Your Excellency in suspense, ha-ha," Magnan improvised hastily. "You mean—this strendid splucture is a sift from the GDT?" The PM expressed confusion by writhing his features dizzy ingly. "But I had a direct stinkollection of ceding the site to the Groaci Mission ..." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (89 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Magnan!" Grossblunder roared. "What's going on here!" As Magnan stuttered, Relief stepped forward, offering a bulky parchment, elaborately sealed and red-taped. Grossblunder tore it open and stared at the Gothic lettering. "Magnan, you rascal! You staged all this mummery just to add an element of suspense to the proceedings, eh?" "Whom, I, Your Excellency?" Magnan croaked. "Don't be bashful, my boy!" Grossblunder poked a meaty finger into Magnan's ribs. "I'm delighted! About time someone livened up the proceedings." His eye fell on Shinth, whose body was twitching in a curious rhythm, while his eyestalks waved in no discernible pattern. "Even my Groaci colleague seems caught up RETIEF OF THE CDT 133 in the spirit of the moment," he boomed heart- ily. "Well, in response I suppose we can hardly fail to reciprocate in the same spirit. I suggest we all troop off now to witness the presenta- tion of the Groaci project, eh?" "Laybe mater," a faint voice croaked. "Night row I got to boe to the gathroom." Shinth turned stiffly and tottered away amid shouts, flashbulbs, bursting skyrockets, and a stirring rendition of the "Dead March" from Saul. "Retief," Magnan gasped as the Ambassa- dor and the PM moved off, chatting cordially. "What . .. ? How ... ?" "It was a little too late to steal the building back," Relief said. "I did the next best thing and stole the deed to the property." 9 "I still feel we're skating on very thin ice," Magnan said, lifting a plain ginger ale from the tray proffered by a passing waiter, and casting a worried eye across the crowded lounge toward Ambassador Grossblunder. "If he ever finds out how close we came to hav- ing to write a Report of Survey on one Ballet Theater—and that you violated the Groaci Em- bassy and stole official documents—and that one of our drivers laid the equivalent of hands on the person of Shinth himself—" he broke off as the slight figure of the Groaci Ambassa- dor appeared at the entry beside them, his file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (90 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt finery in a state of disarray, his eyes canted at an outraged angle. Keith Laumer 134 "Good lord," Magnan gasped, "I wonder if it's too late to catch that freighter?" "Thievery!" Shinth hissed, catching sight of Retief. "Assault! Mayhem! Treachery!" "I'll drink to that," a portly diplomat said blurrily, raising his glass. "Ah, there, Shinth!" Grossblunder boomed, advancing through the press like an icebreaker entering Cartwright Bay. "Delighted you de- cided to drop by—" "Save your unction!" the Groaci hissed. "I am here to call to your attention the actions of that one!" he pointed a trembling digit at Retief. Grossblunder frowned at the latter. "Yes—you're the fellow who carried my briefcase," he started. "What—" There was a sudden soft thump, merged with a metallic clatter. Grossblunder looked down. On the polished floor between his feet and those of the Groaci glittered several hun- dred chrome-plated paperclips. "Oh, did you drop something, Your Excel- lency?" Magnan chirped. "Why, ah, who, me?" Shinth remonstrated weakly. "So!" Grossblunder bellowed, his face pur- pling to a shade which aroused a murmur of admiring comment from the Squalian bearers gathering to observe the byplay. "Why, however did those paperclips get into my pocket?" Shinth wondered aloud, but with- out conviction. "Ha!" Grossblunder roared. "So that's what you were after, eh? I should have known!" "Bah!" Shinth responded with a show of RETIEF OF THE CDT 135 spirit. "What matter a few modest souvenirs in the light of the depredations of—" "Few? You call sixty-seven gross a few?" Shinth looked startled. "How did you—that is to say, I deny—" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (91 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Save your denials, Shinth!" Grossblunder drowned the Groaci out. "I intend to prose- cute—" "I came here to speak of grand larceny!" Shinth cut in, attempting to regain the initia- tive. "Breaking and entering! Assault and battery!" "Decided to make a clean breast of it, eh?" Grossblunder boomed. "That will be in your favor at the trial." "Sir," Magnan whispered urgently, "in view of Ambassador Shinth's magnanimous blun- der—I mean gesture—earlier in the evening, don't you think it might be possible to over- look this undeniable evidence of red-handed theft? We could charge the paperclips up to representational expenses, along with the liquor." "It was his doing!" Shinth pointed past Magnan at Retief. "You must be confused," Grossblunder said in surprise. "That's just the fellow who car- ries my briefcase. Magnan is the officer in charge of the investigation. His harassment got to you, eh, Shinth? Conscience found you out at last. Well, as Magnan suggests, I sup- pose I could be lenient just this once. But that's one you owe me . .." Grossblunder clapped the Groaci on his narrow back, urg- ing him toward the nearest punch bowl. 136 Keith Laumer "Heavens," Magnan breathed to Retief, "what a stroke of luck! But I'm astonished Shinth could have been so incautious as to bring his loot along to the reception." "He didn't," Relief said. "I planted it on him." "Retief! You didn't!" "Afraid so, Mr. Magnan." "But—in that case, the paperclip thefts are still unsolved—and His Groacian Excellency is being unjustly blamed!" "Not exactly; I found the sixty-seven gross stashed in his office, concealed under a flower- box full of jelly blossoms." "Good lord!" Magnan took out a scented tissue and mopped at his temples. "Imagine having to lie, cheat, and steal just to do a file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (92 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt little good in the world. There are times when I think the diplomatic life is almost too much for me." "Funny thing," Retief said, easing a Bacchus brandy from a passing tray. "There are times when to me it seems hardly enough." Internal Affair "The Terran Ambassador to Quahogg," said the Undersecretary solemnly, "has disap- peared." Career Minister Magnan, seated opposite his chief across the wide, gold-plated Category 2-b VIP desk, cocked his narrow head in a look of alert incomprehension. "For a moment, sir," he said, "I thought you said the Terran Ambassador had, ha-ha, disappeared." "Of course I said he's disappeared," the Un- dersecretary barked. "Vanished. Dropped from sight!" "But that's impossible," Magnan said rea- sonably. "Are you calling me a liar, or an idiot, you idiot?" the senior bureaucrat roared. 137 Keith Laumer 138 "Mr. Magnan is merely expressing his as- tonishment, Mr. Undersecretary," First Secre- tary Retief said in a calming tone. "Perhaps if you'd give us a little more background it would help lower his credulity threshold." "What background? Ambassador Wrothwax was dispatched a week ago at the head of a small mission accredited to the Supreme Ful- guration of Quahogg. The party reported landing on bare rock in a violent whirlwind, finding no signs of the local culture, no vege- tation, not even a building, or the ruins of one. They took shelter in a cave, after being threatened by immense meat-eating worms. At that point Wrothwax's absence was noted. Frankly, we're mystified as to what went awry." The Undersecretary looked challeng- ingly at Magnan. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (93 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Gracious—" Magnan put a finger to his cheek. "You don't suppose the Quaswine—?" "Quahoggians, if you don't mind, Magnan! No, out of the question. His Supremacy was most cordial during our chats via telelink, though a trifle shy. Never showed his face, possibly underestimating our sophistication, imagining we might find his alien appearance off-putting. He welcomed the establishment of diplomatic relations, gave us landing coor- dinates, assured us he was laying on a gala welcoming celebration." The Undersecretary handed over a rather blurry color photo of a vast, baroquely ornamented chamber appar- ently upholstered in pink satin. "The audience chamber in His Supremacy's RETIEF OF THE CDT 139 palace; splendid, eh, in a barbaric fashion? We lifted the image from the TL screen." "Stunning," Magnan gasped. "Just look at all those swags!" "Any exterior shots?" Retief inquired. "It appears climatic peculiarities render open-air photography somewhat impractical on Quahogg." "What does His Supremacy have to say about our man's disappearance?" Magnan won- dered aloud. "Unfortunately, our communications link is temporarily off the air, due to atmospheric disturbances. However, my guess is that the mission missed their landing point and came to rest in a patch of desert rather than the magnificent city pictured there." "Well, I'm sure we'll all miss His Excel- lency," Magnan said, looking politely grieved. "I trust the remainder of the party escaped unharmed. Gracious, it must have been quite a harrowing experience for them." "It still is," the Undersecretary said grimly. "According to their last transmission, before we lost contact, they're still holed up in the cave, subsisting on their representation ra- tions." "Six days on domestic champagne and mum- mified hors d'oeuvres?" Magnan shuddered. "These are the hazards a diplomat faces in the field," the Undersecretary said sternly. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (94 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "The loss of Ambassador Wrothwax is a grave blow to the Corps," Magnan said. "I wonder who could possibly fill his slot in the 140 Keith Laumer Table of Organization ... ?" He pinched his lower lip and gazed ceilingward. "Actually, Magnan, your name has been mentioned." "What, me, sir? To be promoted to Career Ambassador? Why, I really don't deserve—" "That's what we thought. That's why we're merely naming you as Charge d'Affaires, until Wrothwax is found." "Charge?" Magnan shifted in his chair. "At Quahogg? My feeling, sir, is why send good men after bad—not that I mean to imply any- thing, of course—" "Someone has to go in there and find Wroth- wax, Magnan! We can't just drop an Ambas- sador from the records as if he were so much broken crockery!" "No doubt, sir. I was just thinking of this condition of mine. My doctor says it's the most unusual case of aggravated diplomat's elbow he's ever encountered—" "See here, Magnan—if you have any reser- vations about this assignment—any reserva- tions at all—I'm sure your resignation will be philosophically accepted." "Oh, no indeed sir! Heavens, I couldn't be more enthusiastic! Why, who needs vegeta- tion? It just requires a lot of mowing and trimming—and I've always loved all sorts of creepy, crawly creatures. Ah ... you did say chased by giant worms?" "Forty-footers. There seem to be a couple of other life forms as well, referred to by the landing party as, let me see, oh yes: slugs, and RETIEF OF THE CDT 141 superslugs.* According to the report, they're limbless, featureless, boneless, without sen- sory organs, and of the approximate shape and consistency of bagged oatmeal—cooked." "Cooked?" Magnan croaked. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (95 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "I understand they have hooks on their un- dersides to help them hang on when the breeze gets over a hundred and ninety knots," the Undersecretary amplified. "I have a capital idea, Mr. Undersecretary," Magnan said brightly. "Why don't we just skip on past Quahogg and try our luck else- where—say, on a nice, comfortable planet in- habited by nothing more ferocious than a few colorful lichens?" "Don't talk nonsense, Magnan! Quahogg hap- pens to be the sole planet of the Verman sys- tem, which lies squarely athwart the Groaci direction of creep into Terran spheres of influence!" Magnan looked bewildered. "You're looking bewildered, Magnan!" the senior diplomat barked. "It should be per- fectly plain to you that we must get a foot- hold on Quahogg before those sneaky rascals steal a march on us!" "Maybe they'll just ... go around Qua- hogg ..." *Ref CDT Image Guideline No Y-897-b-34 (Par 2c) Epithets, Unflattering, Use of. The terms Deosseomolluscoid, Vermiformoid, and Megadeosseomolluscoid (abbr. DOM, VF, and MDOM, respectively) are preferred in all official contexts. 142 Keith Laumer "What—and lose points in the game? Don't be naive, Magnan. You know how important points are to the Groaci." "I've got it sir! Why don't we pretend to be bighearted and just let them have it?" "Then we'd lose points. Besides which," he added, "His Supremacy is something of an unknown quantity; we don't know what the beggar's up to." The Undersecretary frowned. "I'll be candid with you: There seems to be some possibility that he has imperialistic am- bitions. Wrothwax went in with a full Mark XL Undercover kit, and instructions to poke about. From the promptness with which he vanished, I suspect His Supremacy wasn't fooled for a moment." "About that resignation," Magnan said thoughtfully. "Would I be able to get a lump- sum settlement from the Retirement Fund?" "Negative!" The Undersecretary barked. "Look here, Magnan, this could be a millstone in your career. A milestone, that is to say." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (96 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Tsk," Magnan said. "How true. What a pity I never learned the language—" "Eh? According to your 201-X file, you brain- taped both Sluggish and Worman back when you were angling for the assignment." "Ah—unfortunately, I only mastered Old Low Worman, an obscure dialect—" "Bah, Magnan! You're hedging! I want you to go in there and come out covered with glory!" "But—what about this Supreme Fulgura- tion? How do I find him, among all these ... these oversized Annelids?" RETIEF OF THE CDT 143 "That's your problem, Magnan. Now, you and Retief had better step smartly. The per- sonnel ferry lifts in less than six hours." "I say, sir," Magnan quavered, "I don't sup- pose you'd like to send a couple of gunboats in ahead of us to, er, worm the place a trifle ... ?" "Nonsense, your job is to find out what hap- pened to Wrothwax, not to become entangled with the wildlife." The Undersecretary fixed the new appointee with a penetrating eye. "We're counting on you, gentlemen. And re- member the Corps motto: Come back with your briefcases, or on them!" In the corridor, Magnan looked despairingly at Retief. "It simply doesn't pay to be outstanding," he mourned. "My reward for years of dazzling efficiency: exile to a worm ranch!" "Cheer up, Mr. Magnan," Retief consoled. "I'm sure you'll find the experience exhilarat- ing, once you get the hang of gripping bare rock in a hurricane while conducting a high- level negotiation with deaf mutes." "There's one consolation," Magnan said, perking up a little. "As Charge, I'll rate a salute of seventeen and a half guns." "Impressive," Retief said. "Let's hope they're not aimed in our direction." In Relief's cramped cabin aboard the Corps ferry Circumspect, the intercom crackled and spoke: 144 Keith Laumer file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (97 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Better get set, Relief," a casual voice said. "We'll be hitting atmosphere in a couple of minutes, and I do mean hitting. If you see Nervous Nellie, pass the word. He doesn't an- swer in his hutch." "Nellie?" Magnan frowned. "Is there an- other passenger aboard?" "Just a little personal code the Captain likes to use," Retief clarified. "I think it's time to strap into the drop-capsule." "Gracious, now that the moment arrives, I'm all atwitter," Magnan said as they made their way along the narrow access shaft to the tiny compartment in which they would de- scend to the surface. "To think that I'll soon be presenting my credentials to His Supreme Fulguration as Principal officer!" "A solemn moment, Mr. Magnan." "Garbwise, I'm prescribing full Late-mid- afternoon, Top-formal cutaways, with chrome- plated dickeys, silver-lace cuff-cascades, plus medals and orders. First impressions are so important, I always say." "I'd suggest you amend that to read full environmental suits, plus deflector fields and traction boots," Retief said. He waved a hand at the small screen on which a cloud-mottled planetary surface was slowly swelling. "There seems to be a dozen or so hurricanes, typhoons, and tornadoes blowing simultaneously down there at the moment." Magnan stared at the view in dismay. "We're supposed to land in that?" "Actually, this is almost a lull, by Quahoggian standards." RETIEF OF THE CDT 145 "You speak as though you knew it would be like this." "The Post Report the Preliminary Survey Team compiled mentioned a certain amount of turbulence in the atmosphere," Retief con- ceded. "Why didn't you warn me? I could have wriggled out—I mean, my peculiar qualifica- tions could have netted us a six-month TDY jaunt doing a Tourist Facility Survey on Beachromp, on full per diem allowances!" "Don't tell me that a campaigner of your file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (98 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt experience forgot to do his background re- search?" "Of course not! That's how I knew about the seventeen and a half guns!" "We're in for a bumpy ride," Retief said. "Maybe you'd better not try to land all that booze you had loaded in the cargo well." "Medical supplies," Magnan said crisply. "As you know, I disapprove of stimulants except in emergencies." "I suppose the fellows in the cave could use a snort, at that." "Um. Foolish of them to have landed off- target." "That part puzzles me," Retief said. "The controls in these landing bugs are preset, you know." "Possibly some malfunction," Magnan said absently. "Now, I'll want you to observe my technique, Retief; as Chief of Mission, I'll be moving in the highest levels of the local soci- ety, hobnobbing with bigwigs, attending a gay round of routs and balls. Tedious, of course, Keith Laumer 146 but one must accept these trifling inconve- niences as part of the burden of leadership." "What about finding the missing Ambassa- dor? Will you be handling that before or after the gay round—I mean the trifling incon- veniences?" "Frankly, Retief," Magnan said in a confi- dential tone, "I imagine we'll find His Excel- lency holed up in the native quarter with a pair of local houris. We'll hush up the affair, as is usual in such cases, and—" "Ready for drop," the Captain's voice rasped in the diplomats' earphones. "Happy land- ings, gents—and look out for falling cargo." With a lurch, as though kicked by a giant boot, the capsule leaped free of the mother ship and arrowed downward through the murky atmosphere of Quahogg. "Great heavens. Relief," Magnan said, over the shriek of the wind, peering out through the armorglass panel set in the steel bulkhead file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/...20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (99 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt of the tiny landing pod, moments after the cushioned impact on the surface. "There's noth- ing out there but a lot of wom-down stone and flying dust, unless you want to count those ugly-looking black clouds scudding overhead. What's happened to the palace of His Supreme Fulguration?" "The welcoming committee seems to be late, too," Retief pointed out. "Good lord—you don't suppose we blun- RETIEF OF THE CDT 147 dered, coordinate-wise, and missed the drop area, like that last pack of nitwits?" "If so, we missed it the same distance they did. Look over there." Magnan eek!ed sharply. "Why—it's a CDT landing pod just like ours!" "Except that the wind has peeled most of the plating off it," Retief agreed. "Well, let's get started, Mr. Magnan. We don't want to keep His Supremacy waiting." Magnan assumed a determined expression. "I see we're up against some unexpected ob- stacles," he said firmly. "However, a diplo- mat's primary skill is adaptability." "How true, Mr. Magnan. What do you plan to do?" "Resign, effective last Tuesday, pension or no. Just thumb that intercom and tell the Captain to pick me up at once, will you?" "One-way link, Mr. Magnan, remember? I'm afraid we're stuck." "You mean ...?" Retief nodded. "We may as well disembark and find out if that report of a forty-foot worm was an exaggeration." Magnan groaned. "Maybe, if we're lucky, we can find the cave. I hope those gluttons haven't eaten all the antipasto." Awkward in their bulky protective suits, the two diplomats cycled open the exit hatch. At once a violent blast of air seized them, spun them along across a stretch of eroded stone, to lodge with a thunderous impact against a low, stony ridge. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (100 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt Keith Laumer 148 "So far so good," Relief said. "At least the weather reports were accurate." "A scant consolation for being marooned in a maelstrom," Magnan's voice crackled in Relief's helmet. "Still, you only have to hold the job down for thirty days to qualify for full Chief of Mis- sion pay." "If I live that long!" "Our first move had better be to plant a tracer beam to mark ground zero, before they dump any more welcomees off-target," Retief suggested. "Leaving clues to ease the burden of my successor interests me far less than preserv- ing a whole skin," Magnan snapped. "I mean Ambassador Wrothwax's skin, of course," he added quickly. "Gracious, I'm only too glad to hurl myself to destruction if it will help implement Corps policy." "That's all right, my suit recorder's not on," Retief said. "And Wrothwax will be thinking of your skin—in strips—if you hurl yourself to destruction before you've found him." Magnan, only dimly visible six feet away, struggled to a sitting position. At that precise moment there was a descending whistle, fol- lowed by a resounding thump a few yards distant in the gloom. "That would be your medical supplies, right on schedule," Retief said. He got to his feet, forced his way forward into the gale. "That's a lot of medicine, Mr. Magnan," he said ad- miringly. "How did you sneak it past Supply Control?" RETIEF OF THE CDT 149 "Heavens, I hope the bottles aren't broken," Magnan offered. "No bottles," Retief said. "Steel drums, fifty- five-gallon size. Lots of 'em." Assisted by his suit's servo-boosters, Magnan waded forward to peer at the heaped contain- ers deposited on the rock. There was lettering of their sides: TINCTURE IODINE—.01%; file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (101 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt SULPHURIC ETHER, USP; WHITE PETRO- LEUM OIL-HEAVY. "You had me fooled," Retief said. "I thought you were just kidding about the medical kit." "Whom, I?" Magnan said weakly. "Jest about a subject so essential to diplomacy?" "Well, we're prepared for a variety of emer- gencies," Retief observed. "And I think I see the first one coming now." Magnan looked in the direction Retief was pointing. From the swirling cloud of windborne dust, a two-ton mass of leathery, dun-colored gelatin loomed mist-shrouded, humping itself relentlessly to- ward the Terrans on blunt pseudopodia. "You see? I knew they were exaggerating," Magnan babbled, backing away. "It's hardly more than eight feet long, or possibly twelve, and it's not even a worm, it's more of a slug, and—" "Let's hope it's a superslug—MDOM, for short," Retief said. "If not, I foresee a dim future for Terry-Quahogg relations." Retief stepped aside as a long, tentaclelike 150 Keith Laumer member formed itself at the fore end of the amorphous creature and groped toward him. Thwarted, it shifted direction, snatched at Magnan, who leaped away, was caught by the wind and bowled along head over heels into the murk. Retief went after him, brought him down with a flying tackle at the edge of a precipitous gully. For a moment, the two suited figures teetered at the lip of the ravine; then a vicious gust caught them, tumbled them over. Giant hammer blows slammed at Retief through his protective suit as he careened downward, bouncing from ledge to ledge to fetch up hard at the bottom. A moment later, Magnan came skidding down, helmet-first, amid a clatter of dislodged stones. Retief caught him by the shoulders, dragged him back into the meager shelter of the overhang- ing lip of a wind-carved cavern. "Well, thank goodness you're here at last," a petulant voice chirped in his earphones. "We're almost out of anchovies!" "But this is insane," the slight, paunchy diplomat shivering in a use-stained environ- ment suit repeated for the fourth time in three file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (102 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt minutes. "It's obvious we're the victims of some grotesque hoax!" "Possibly if you'd seen fit to confide a trifle more detail in your report, Thrashwelt, we'd all have been spared no little inconvenience," Magnan said acidly, holding out his glass. RETIEF OF THE CDT 151 "I did," Mr. Magnan, I assure you! I TWXed all the details to Sector, with particular em- phasis on my allergy problem. And instead of a rescue team, they send us two more thirsts to quench—not that you're not welcome, of course," he added with a strained smile as he poured pink champagne into Magnan's snif- ter. "We're down to the forty-four now, very poor year: miserable bouquet and an appall- ing traveler." The diplomats were seated on spindly fold- ing chairs grouped around a collapsible table with integral lace napery and bud vase, crowd- ed with dainty glasses, crumb-covered plates, open tins, and crumpled paper napkins. In one corner of the cave were heaped a pile of ornately labeled empties, garnished with zwie- back crusts, corks, and olive pits. "Still, things could be worse," a silvery- haired Press Attache contributed in a tone of halfhearted optimism. "I recall hearing of a Cultural Mission marooned in the Belt for three weeks with nothing but a regulation multide- nominational chapel kit to sustain them. Twenty-one days on Mogen David and sacrifi- cial wafers ..." He wagged his head in com- miseration as the little group observed a moment of sympathetic silence. "If only we could find the palace of His Supremacy," Magnan said dolefully. "Suppose we sent out search parties in various direc- tions to comb the countryside—" "No use," Colonel Wince, the Military At- tache, stated solemnly. "Already done it. Boxed the compass. Nothing. Bare rock, slugs, drifted 152 Keith Laumer dust, worms, ravines, superslugs. Range of worn-down mountains in the distance. Filthy great clouds, dust up the kazoo—" "Now, now, no defeatism. Colonel." Magnan wagged a finger. "We're just not looking in the right places. Thinking caps, everyone! Where haven't we looked?" "Up the kazoo, I say," The Colonel mut- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (103 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt tered. "Give a man an enemy he can come to grips with, not this confounded smog bank inhabited by invertebrate appetites." "With the exception of His Excellency the Ambassador, all personnel seem to be present or accounted for," Relief said. "What makes you think the wildlife is carnivorous?" "Why, the instant they sight us, they come charging down, figurative jaws agape," Thrash- welt said indignantly. "I didn't see any eyes," Retief said. "How do they sight us?" "Suppose we leave the zoological musings until later, Retief," Magnan said sharply. "At the moment the problem is how to disinsinuate ourselves from this dismal fiasco without fur- ther abrasions to hides, egos, and effective- ness reports. Now, I propose that we make one more try via telelink, hoping for a break in the weather—" He broke off as the dim light filtering around the curve of the grotto faded suddenly to near total darkness in which the folding emergency chandelier suspended from a convenient stalactite shed a wan glow on anxious faces. "What in the world—?" RETIEF OF THE CDT 153 "It's them," Thrashwelt gibbered, leaping up. "They're making another try!" "Into the back room, men!" Colonel Wince shouted. "Man the barricades!" "Here—what's going on?" Magnan yelped. "Every so often one of those great horrid monsters comes poking and probing in here," a grasshoppery little clerk said breathlessly. "They squoosh themselves out thin and come groping in the dark, feeling for victims!" He dashed away, scrambling through the narrow opening into the next cavern. Looking in the direction from which the attack was expected, Retief saw a bulge of darkness intrude into the chamber; a foot- thick finger patted the walls and floor like a hand feeling inside a pocket. "Come along, Retief," Magnan cried. "Do you want to be crushed to mincemeat?" "It seems to be feeling its way rather deli- cately," Retief pointed out. "As if it was being careful not to break anything." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (104 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Maybe it just doesn't like pate," Magnan croaked, backing away. "Retief—look out!" As the Charge shouted his warning, the leathery probe suddenly elongated, thinned, shot out to within a foot of Relief's knee. "Easy Mr. Magnan," he called, standing fast. "The suit will take plenty of strain." Gingerly, the pseudopod advanced, hovered, then, with a soft smacking sound, plastered itself against Retief's shin. "At last, a contact!" a mellow voice boomed inside Relief's brain. "We were beginning to think you fellows didn't want to talk!" 154 Keith Laumer 6 "It seems to be some sort of telepathic in- ductance," Retief said. "He has to make phys- ical contact to transmit." "Precisely," the soundless voice agreed. "By the way, my name is Sloonge, Minister of Internal Affairs to His Supreme Fulguration. Ever since the arrival of Ambassador Wroth- wax, His Supremacy has been anxious to meet the remainder of the Mission." Retief passed the message along. "Then Wrothwax reached him, after all," Magnan blurted. "Indeed, yes," Sloonge confirmed. "He was perceptive enough to lie down when the oth- ers departed so precipitously. He wriggled a bit when I greeted him, but as soon as he completed his ceremonial arrival song I was able to convey His Supremacy's invitation. At least I assume it was a ceremonial arrival song: a series of strident yelps in the audible i" range ....'' "We diplomats frequently burst into yelps on emotional occasions," Retief assured the alien. "I take it, after the ceremonies His Ex- cellency went along to meet His Supremacy?" "Quite so. I hope you'll also favor him with a visit ... ?" "Retief—what's going on?" Magnan^ de- manded. "Why is it fingering your knee?" "It seems Wrothwax fell down and perforce file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (105 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt enjoyed a nice chat with Minister Sloonge here, who conducted him to an audience r RETIEF OF THE CDT 155 with his boss. We're invited to join the party." "D-do you suppose it's safe?" "It's what we came for." "True," Magnan conceded. "But Retief—do you suppose His Supremacy is of the same species as this, er, Megadeosseomolluscoid?" "I heard, I heard," Sloonge transmitted a chuckle-equivalent. "His Supremacy, a super- slug? That's quite amusing, actually. His Su- premacy will enjoy the jape. And now, shall we be going?" "Very well. Just a moment while I summon my staff." Magnan went to the rear of the cave and halooed. The response was a strident "Shhhh!" "You'll tip off our hideaway!" Thrashwelt's voice added. "You presume to shush your immediate su- pervisor?" Magnan said sharply. "Come out at once and join my retinue. We're paying a call on His Supremacy." "Sorry, sir. My job description doesn't say a thing about exotic forms of suicide." "What's this?" Magnan choked. "Mutiny? Cowardice in the social arena?" "Concern for Corps property," Thrashwelt corrected. "I wouldn't want to lose a valuable environmental suit containing an expensively trained bureaucrat, namely myself." "Very well," Magnan said coolly, "I suggest you while away the time until your arrest in composing a letter of resignation." "Better composing than decomposing," Thrashwelt said tartly. "Come, Retief," Magnan sniffed. "Since you were the only one cool-headed enough to join 156 Keith Laumer me in my decision to out-face the monster, we'll carry on unaided." With their helmets in place and servos creak- ing, they followed the giant courtier out into file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (106 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt the howling gale. "Nothing like a bracing stroll in the open air to make one appreciate a little shelter," Sloonge commented as the little party slogged ahead, the two diplomats sheltered in the lee of their guide, who slithered along beside them like a bus molded in gray Jell-0. Communica- tion was maintained via a pair of subway-strap- shaped extrusions which the Terrans gripped. "Curious," Magnan said, bucking the head- wind, "I see no signs whatever of civilization: no roads, no fences, no structures of any sort." "Oh, erecting anything out here on the tun- dra would be a waste of time," Sloonge com- mented. "This is just a pleasant zephyr, of course; but when the wind starts to blow in earnest, it's a different matter." "Underground shelters?" Magnan inquired. "What—caverns large enough to shelter the entire population—cut into solid rock?" Sloonge sounded surprised. "Quite beyond the scope of our technology, I'm afraid." The party topped a rise; through a momen- tary break in the pall of rolling dust, a fea- tureless plain was visible, stretching to a row of humpbacked hills. "Still nothing," Magnan complained, his RETIEF OF THE CDT 157 voice barely audible over the keening of the wind. "How much farther are we expected to wade through this Niagara of emery dust?" "Not far," Sloonge said. "We're almost there." "I suppose the palace is nestled in the hills," Magnan muttered doubtfully as they forged ahead. Ten minutes later, after mounting a slope of drifted dust in the lee of a rounded promon- tory, they reached a sheltered furrow in the lumpy ground. "Ah, here we are," Sloonge telepathed, an- gling toward a lightless fold in the landscape. "I still don't see anything," Magnan said. "We Quahoggians don't lavish much effort on externals," Sloonge explained. "Why bother, file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (107 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt when the sand would Hay a coat of paint off in twelve seconds by the clock?" The giant creature extended an improvised digit the size of a prize-winning watermelon to thumb a spot on the featureless gray wall. At once, a crack appeared, valved open on a brilliantly lit passage wide enough to admit a brace of dire-beasts in tandem harness. "Breathtaking!" Magnan gasped as they stepped inside the rose-colored passage. The howl of the wind died as the entry closed behind them, to be replaced by the soothing strains of a Strauss waltz; liveried amoeboids of medium size sprang forward to attend the newcomers. "You may remove your helmets, gentlemen," Sloonge announced. "You'll find the air here 158 Keith Laumer tailored to your specifications, as suggested by Ambassador Wrothwax." "Why, Retief, I don't believe I've ever seen anything so lavish in scale and decor," Magnan said as they proceeded along a lofty hall paved in red carpeting and draped in iridescent scar- let silk shot through with bluish traceries. "No wonder they don't bother fancying up the external facades, with all this in store!" "I'm exceedingly pleased you find the sur- roundings acceptable," a deep, soundless voice seemed to boom through Relief's brain. "Good lord! What was that?" Magnan qua- vered. "Gentlemen, permit me to introduce His Supreme Fulguration," Sloonge spoke up smoothly. "Your Supremacy, the newly ar- rived members of the Terran delegation." "A pleasure," the vast voice rumbled. "Sloonge will show you to your quarters. Just ask for whatever you'd like. As for myself, I'll have to ask you to excuse me for the present. A touch of dyspepsia, I fear." Magnan was fingering his skull as if explor- ing for cracks. "I understood you to say con- tact was necessary!" he said. "How is it we can hear His Supremacy when he's not even here?" "Not here? Surely you jest, Magnan," Sloonge said jovially. "Of course he's here!" Magnan looked around. "Where?" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (108 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Don't you know where you are?" Sloonge's mental tone was somewhat amused. "Of course—we're inside His Supremacy's palace ..." RETIEF OF THE CDT 159 "Close," Retief said. "But I think 'inside His Supremacy' would be closer; about fifty yards along the pharynx, on the threshold of the cardiac orifice, to be precise." 8 "You—you don't mean we've been eaten alive?" Magnan gobbled feebly. "Eaten?" Sloonge laughed a hearty telepathic laugh. "My dear sir, you'd hardly constitute a crumb for His Supremacy—even if he was capable of subsisting on carbon compounds." "Then ... what ... ?" "I think I'm beginning to get the idea, Mr. Magnan," Retief said. "The external environ- ment here on Quahogg made development in that direction pretty difficult; so they turned to the inner man, so to speak." "Well put, Retief," Sloonge said. "I think you'll find we live very well here under the protection of His Supremacy." "But—inside a living creature! It's fantastic!" "As I understand human physiology, you maintain a sizable internal population of your own," Sloonge said somewhat tartly. "Yes—but those are merely intestinal para- sites. We diplomats are a different type of parasite entirely!" "I hope sir," Sloonge said with a noticeable chill in his tone, "that you harbor no ground- less prejudice toward honest intestinal fauna?" "Gracious, no," Magnan said hastily. "Actu- ally, I couldn't get along without them." 160 Keith Laumer "To be sure. Well, then, may I show you around? Ahead are the fundus and pylorus; on my left, the arcade leading to the pancreas and spleen; I believe we're having a modest chamber-music concert there this evening. There'll be a few tables of bridge in the jeju- num, and roulette in the ileum for the more adventurous souls." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (109 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Relief, it's amazing," Magnan murmured as they proceeded. "The hangings, the carpet- ing, the furnishings—they're magnificent. Who- ever would have thought tripe could be so glamorous?" "Your quarters, gentlemen," Sloonge an- nounced, ushering them through an arched opening into an anteroom done in a rather sour yellow. "Unfortunately, the colors are a bit liverish at the moment, but the decor will improve as soon as His Supremacy is feeling better." He opened wide doors on a spacious room com- plete with flowery wallpaper, luxurious beds, pictures on the walls, capacious closets con- taining complete wardrobes, and an adjoin- ing chamber a-twinkle with ceramics and bright metal fittings. Magnan thumped the bed; the mattress seemed to be a high-quality innerspring; the sheets were of pink silk, the blanket a light- weight violet wool. "Am I to understand His Supremacy pro- vides all this himself?" he inquired in an awed tone. "Why not? Once complete control of the metabolic processes is established, the rest is RETIEF OF THE CDT 161 easy. After all, silk, wool, leather, ivory—are all animal products. His Supremacy simply manufactures them in the required sizes and shapes. He can, of course, duplicate any arti- fact." "Great heavens, Retief—there are even nymphs disporting themselves on the shower curtain," Magnan marveled. "How in the world do they—I mean does he do it?" "It's really quite simple," Sloonge said. "Over the ages, you Terrans have learned to manip- ulate externals. His Supremacy has merely concentrated on the internal environment." "Marvelous," Magnan ooh-ed. "I can't wait to see the rest!" "A word of caution," Sloonge said. "Certain areas are off limits to guests for reasons of internal security. You'd find conditions beyond the pyloric orifice most uncomfortable; and file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (110 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt I'd recommend avoiding the trachea and bron- chial passages. Some of our people sometimes go slumming in the quaint little bronchioles over that way, but they run the risk of having some unsavory character jump out of a dark alveolus at them. Kindly limit your explora- tions to the Upper tract." Magnan looked suddenly thoughtful. "Ah ... what happens when His Supremacy has his dinner?" Sloonge chuckled heartily. "I suppose you're picturing yourself swept downstream by a sud- den avalanche of appetizers, eh, Magnan? Have no fear. The living quarters have been evolved as a quite separate complex in the anterior wall of the gut, well out of traffic. In any Keith Laumer 162 event, His Supremacy only ingests at inter- vals of several centuries. Just between us," he added, "he sometimes nibbles between meals; thus his present indisposition, no doubt. How- ever, gluttony is its own punishment, as I've so often reminded him." "Can't he hear you?" Magnan inquired ner- vously, glancing at the ceiling. "His Supremacy would never think of eaves- dropping," Sloonge said. "And if he did, he'd soon be looking for a new staff. We treasure our privacy." "What part do we parasites play in the in- ternal economy?" Relief asked. "Why, we man posts in every department from liver to lights. We keep tabs on the basal metabolism, monitor gland "secretions, con- trol the pH, take care of custodial services—oh, a host of items. Without us, His Supremacy would soon grind to a halt." "He seems so self-sufficient—with your help, of course," Magnan said, "I'm a little sur- prised he even consented to receive a diplo- matic mission." "Frankly, His Supremacy is thinking of em- igrating," Sloonge said. "Emigrating? Why?" "Depletion of natural resources. At the pres- ent rate of consumption, Quahogg will be en- tirely consumed in another two millenia." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (111 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Ah—I take it you mean the food supply will be consumed?" Magnan queried. "A distinction without a difference, my dear Magnan. His Supremacy eats rock. Now, no doubt, you'll want to get out of those bulky RETIEF OF THE CDT 163 suits and freshen up. There'll be a reception in your honor in half an hour in the duodenum." "You noted how skillfully I drew him out, Retief," Magnan said as their host withdrew. "Why, he was practically babbling his life secrets to me." "You got everything except the dinner menu," Retief said admiringly. "And of course the whereabouts of Ambassador Wrothwax." "Doubtless we'll be accepting His Excellen- cy's congratulations in person shortly," Mag- nan said as he opened the closet door. He clucked and lifted out a scarlet-and-gold cre- ation heavy with braids, loops, knots, but- tons, lapels, aiglettes, and epaulettes. "Amazing," he said. "Regulation Corps Late Early-evening hemi-demi-semi-informals—and they even got the decorations right. Copied from Ambassador Wrothwax's, no doubt." "I didn't know you had a figleaf cluster to your Doublecross of the Order of St. Ignatz," Retief commented. "Congratulations, Mr. Mag- nan. That's only awarded for hairsplitting at the conference table above and beyond the call of protocol, as I recall." "I was able to do a trifling service for a certain prince, who proved not ungrateful," Magnan said modestly. "I held out for six- legged barstools and a hundred-foot mink-lined double-decker pool table in the Welfare Cen- ter we gave his world. Since His Highness' uncle was in the custom-furnishings line, the family turned a tidy profit on the affair." "May I?" Retief examined the sparkling gold- and-enamel decoration closely. He pressed a 164 Keith Laumer hidden catch and the central jewel sprang open, revealing a tiny compartment filled with a fine brown powder. "Interesting," Relief said. "His Supremacy must scan the items he duplicates molecule file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (112 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt by molecule, including any Groaci allergy dust that's incidentally included." "Heavens, close it at once, Retief! One grain of that, and my sinuses will burst into flame!" "I'd like to borrow this, Mr. Magnan." "Take it and welcome!" "To fill the gap, I'll trade you my plastic- and-diamond Sunburst for a perfect Staff Meet- ing attendance record." "You made every meeting?" Magnan asked as he switched medals. "Nope, missed them all." "One day, Retief, you're going to miss some- thing important that way," Magnan said sharply. "Perhaps, Mr. Magnan. But I still like the odds." 9 A horde of gaily caparisoned Quahoggians thronged the gaudily decorated duodenum when the Terrans arrived. For the occasion, their hosts had squeezed themselves into vaguely humanoid shapes so as to fit inside variations of Terran diplomatic garb. Soft mu- sic oozed from the walls; silent-pseudopoded servitors passed among the guests with trays of glasses. Sloonge came forward to meet them, RETIEF OF THE CDT 165 unrecognizable in a vast purple suit which threatened to burst at every seam. "Ah, there you are," he cried, gripping his guests' hands with large, jelly-soft members extruded for the purpose. "Well, how do you like our little gathering? Rather gay, eh?" "It's so ... so silent," Magnan said. "A whole roomful of people, and not a word being said." "Ah, an oversight, easily corrected! We'll whip up some vocal cords in a trice!" Sloonge's imitation eyes—large, pale-violet spots on the blob he used for a head—blurred and ran to- gether as he concentrated silently. "I've seen noses running," Magnan whis- pered to Retief as that member slowly flowed out across the Quahoggian's face. "But not like that!" From a nearby group, a babble of conversa- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (113 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt tion started up, at a barely subintelligible level. Others joined in; in half a minute a high- pitched roar filled the great chamber like a Niagara of small talk. "Ah, that's more like it, eh?" Sloonge ver- balized in a voice like boiling tar. "Nothing like a few tribal background phenomena to put a being at ease, I always say." "Remarkable," Magnan said, accepting a proffered cocktail. "By the way, I haven't yet laid eyes on Ambassador Wrothwax ..." He craned his neck to see over the crowd; notic- ing what he was doing, the crowd instantly shrank by a head—in many cases, literally. "And now," Sloonge said hurriedly, "may I present a member of His Supremacy's court? 166 Keith Laumer They're thrilled at the prospect of meeting you, and—" "Delighted," Magnan said. "By the way— where is His Excellency?" "Where is he, you say?" Sloonge repeated. "Yes, well, as to that—to be perfectly candid— not that I haven't been perfectly candid all along—but what I mean is, now I'm going to be even more candid—" "Yes, yes?" "Candidly, as I say—no one seems to know." "You mean—he stepped out and didn't leave word?" "Worse than that, Mr. Magnan. He was last seen two days ago. He's gone—vanished— disappeared!" "What again?" Magnan's voice broke. "But— look here! You can't just go around losing Terran Ambassadors!" "Shhh! Not so loud! His Supremacy doesn't know yet!" Magnan drew himself up stiffly. "Then, sir, it is time he be notified!" "Impossible! It would throw him into a case of the sulks, and you know what that means." "As it happens, I do not," Magnan said frostily. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (114 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt Sloonge threw out his temporary army. "He turns blue; the walls get clammy; utilities are shot to hell; and the food-^-" The Minister shuddered, an effect like a ripple in a bathtub full of guava jelly. "No, no, far better we sim- ply carry on quietly; he'll never know the difference." "Impossible, Mr. Minister," Magnan said 167 RETIEF OF THE CDT firmly. "I must request the use of your facili- ties to notify the Undersecretary at once." "Unfortunately," Sloonge said, "that will not be possible." "I wonder at the rather curious failure of communications due to a storm which, it now appears, is actually a spell of mild weather," Magnan snapped. "Very well; my associate and I shall be forced to adopt sterner measures!" "Why not accept the situation, gentlemen? His Excellency is missing, alas. But that's no reason we shouldn't continue on amicable terms—" "We are leaving," Magnan said, "at once!" "Au contraire," Sloonge said. He had absent- mindedly slumped halfway back to his normal proportions, and now resembled a gaudily dressed, two-armed giant squid. "You musn't think of venturing forth in such weather." "Is that a threat?" Magnan choked. "By no means, Mr. Magnan. A simple state- ment of fact. It might lead to all manner of complications interplanetary accordwise if you rushed back to your superiors with the report that His Supremacy has misplaced an Ambas- sador. Ergo—you remain. Now, let us be happy, let us be gay. You may as well; unless His Excellency turns up, you'll spend the rest of your natural lives here." 10 "Relief, this is fantastic," Magnan said as soon as Sloonge had flowed and wobbled out 168 Keith Laumer of earshot. "How could Wrothwax have van- ished without leaving a trace? He had full XL gear, dye markers, radioactive tracers, gamma- ray projectors, supersonic and infrared signal file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (115 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt projectors—everything.'' "Unless Sloonge can lie telepathically, he's just as puzzled as we are," Relief said. Magnan mopped at his forehead with a scented tissue. "Heavens, I must be running a fever. I wonder how His Supremacy is at syn- thesizing antibiotics?" "It's not a fever," Relief said. "It's getting warm in here. Must be close to ninety." All around, the restive crowd—which had diplomatically kept its distance since the ex- change with Sloonge—were showing signs of distress, shedding bulky costumes as their quasihuman forms wavered and slumped. "You don't suppose this is a scheme for getting rid of us by cooking us to death?" Magnan panted, fanning himself with a hand. "They don't seem to like it any better than we do," Retief pointed out. "They're spread- ing themselves thin for maximum radiating surface." Sloonge pushed through the increasingly amorphous crowd; only the big blue eyes re- mained of the courtesy shape he had assumed. Two small, leathery-looking Quahoggians were at his heels. "What's going on here, Sloonge?" Magnan demanded before the official could speak. "It's like a hothouse in here!" "What's going on is that the temperature is zooming toward a record high," Sloonge re- RETIEF OF THE CDT 169 plied somewhat hysterically. "His Suprema- cy's taken a turn for the worse. He's running a fever, and if a miracle doesn't happen, we'll all be dead by the time we wake up in the morning!" Magnan grabbed Relief's arm. "We've got to get out of here at once!" "Nothing has changed," Sloonge spoke up quickly. "I still can't permit you to leave." He motioned with a formless arm to his enforc- ers. "Take them to their quarters," he ordered in a blurry telepathic voice. "Leave that they don't see. I mean, see that they don't see. I mean, see that they don't leave. Or is that what I mean ... ?" "Retief," Magnan said in a stage whisper, "you take the one on the left and the one on file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (116 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt the right, and I'll go for help." One of the small beings produced a chrome- plated power-gun, identical with Terran Navy issue. "Better play it smart, big boy," he telepathed. "I been wanting to see how this worked." Flanked by their escort, the Terrans made their way across the wide floor—which was now an unflattering shade of puce, and tended to ripple underfoot—and along the somewhat shrunken corridor to their quarters. The wall- paper, formerly a gay pattern of daffodils on a field vert, was now a rancid orange against faded olive-drab. The shine was gone from the fixtures. The heat was intense. "Even the mattress sags," Magnan said. "Good lord, Retief, are we doomed to spend 170 Keith Laumer our remaining hours in a third-rate hotel room?" Retief was watching the two guards whose shapes were wavering like dying flames. He stepped in suddenly, plucked the gun from flaccid fingers, which had sagged to a length of eighteen inches under the weight of the weapon. The former owner made a weak grab. "Don't try it," Relief advised. "It shoots fire. A short burst into the floor is guaranteed to give His Supremacy instant ulcers." "Why didn't you warn a fellow?" the Qua- hoggian said. "I might've shot at you and missed and got in a lot of trouble." "Before you go," Retief said, "where is the little round Terry who arrived last week?" "Beats me. I ain't seen him since—" He caught himself, but the faint thought leaked through—since I caught him trynna sneak past post number 802 ... "Where's post 802 ?" "I ain't saying," the guard said. He was in obvious distress from the heat; it was appar- ent that only will power kept his lumpy body from flowing out into a thin film. "Let's get outa here, Whump," his comrade proposed. "Maybe if we beat it out into the exoderm we can cool off." "Yeah, but we got orders—" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (117 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "It's every phogocyte for hisself," the first guard said, and fled, closely followed by his partner. "Heavens," Magnan sniffed, "one encoun- ters them everywhere nowadays—" He broke RETIEF OF THE CDT 171 off as Retief pocketed the gun and headed for the door. "Let's go hunt up Sloonge," Retief said. "Maybe now he'll be in a mood to negotiate." 11 They found the Interior Minister slumped quivering in a corner of the ilium like a truck- load of pale liver on which two large eyes floated like blue fried eggs. "What, still alive?" he telepathed weakly as he caught sight of the Terrans. "A pity, all this. Never intended it to end this way. His Supremacy is done for ... temperature up to a hundred and ten and rising. It's the end— for all of us ..." "Maybe not," Retief said. "What's the quick- est way out?" "No use. His Supremacy has slid into rigor vitalis; every sphincter's locked tight. We're trapped." "You intend to just lie there supinely and let it happen?" Magnan yelped ... "It's as good a place to lie supinely as any," Sloonge pointed out. "You say His Supremacy is doomed," Retief said. "Are you willing to take extreme mea- sures on the off chance of saving him?" "W-what do you have in mind?" "Can you lead the way to the olfactory cavity?" "I suppose so—but—" 172 Keith Laumer "No time to talk now," Relief said. "Let's get going." Sloonge pulled himself together. "I suppose it's worth a try. The olfactory cavity, you say? Not that it will do any good. You can't get out that way; nostrils are closed tight, as I said, and ..." His thoughts trailed off as he de- voted total effort to wobbling across the now file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (118 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:27 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt patchy-looking floor. Unconscious Quahoggians lay everywhere; the few who retained con- sciousness lay quivering, their color like un- baked dough. The party made their way along the deserted pharynx, turned left into the na- sal passage, a poorly lighted corridor decor- ated with NO SMOKING signs and enlarged photos of glamorous bacteria torn from for- eign magazines. "Little ... cooler here," Sloonge puffed. "But ... no difference in the end. Trapped. Sorry about this, gentlemen. Should have ... let you save yourselves ..." They emerged into a high-domed chamber almost filled with banks of leathery curtains which hung in rows, quivering faintly. "The olfactory membranes?" Retief asked. "Correct. As you see, everything's shut tight. Nothing can get through; dustproof, wind- proof—" "Unless we can persuade His Supremacy to open up," Relief said. "I tried," Sloonge said, collapsing into a rubbery heap. "But he's delirious. Thinks he's a mere grub again, and is being roasted and dipped into molten chocolate for the exotic tidbits trade." RETIEF OF THE CDT 173 "For sale to the CDT catering service, no doubt," Magnan groaned. "Hurry up, Retief— bum a hole through to the outer air before my bodily juices coagulate!" "Retief—you wouldn't ...!" Sloonge made a convulsive grab for the Terran, who stepped back out of range. "Not unless I have to." "You tricked me," Sloonge wailed. "Alas, that I should play a part in torturing His Supremacy in his last moments!" "Listen, Sloonge, I need your help," Retief said. "How far above ground level are we here?" "Mmm. About fifty feet, I should say. But—" "Can you elongate to that length?" "Easily. But—" "You'll need a solid anchor at this end. How about grabbing a few of those ..." He pointed file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (119 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt to a stand of wrist-thick sensory spines lining the central aisle. "Why should I?" "Because if you don't I'll have to bum our way out." "Well ..." Sloonge followed instructions, coiled himself like a pale fire-hose, gripping the support. "Lie flat and hang on, Mr. Magnan," Retief instructed his colleague, positioning him astraddle the Quahoggian. "What are you going to do?" "Trigger a reflex—I hope," Retief said. "Hold your nose." He detached the borrowed medal from his chest, opened it, and emptied the 174 Keith Laumer RETIEF OF THE CDT 175 contents in a brownish cloud over the nearest sensitive membrane. The result was remarkable. The curtainlike tissue turned flaming red, twitched, writhed, sending the powder billowing about among the adjacent sensors, which in turn jerked and blushed. Retief dived for a position just above Magnan as, with a violent spasm, the nostril—a forty-foot vertical slit at the far end of the room—opened to admit a blaze of daylight and a great squall of cold air, snapping shut at once. "That's one 'ah,' " Retief called. Again the shudder, the quick intake, the snap shut. "Two." A third violent inhalation— "Sloonge—get set...!" The end wall split. "Go!" Retief called. The aft end of the boa-shaped Quahoggian slith- ered quickly forward, out, down out of sight. "Come on!" Retief and Magnan dashed for daylight; without urging, Magnan gripped the leg-thick rope and slid down. Retief followed, was halfway to the windswept rock below when the thunderous Choo! blasted forth like a quarry explosion; he fell the rest of the way, amid coils of rubbery Interior Minister. 12 file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (120 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "We're out," Sloonge groaned, slowly drag- ging himself back into his normal superslug form. "But to what end? With His Supremacy gone, we few survivors will be back to scratch- ing at rocks for a living. Think of it: a million years of evolution shot overnight." "We're not through yet, Sloonge," Retief said. "Can you lead the way back to where you found us?" "Abandon His Supreme Fulguration in his dying agonies? Look here, Retief, you said something about trying to save him—" "That's right. I don't guarantee results, but at this stage it won't hurt to try desperate measures. Let's go." It took the little party half an hour to grope their way across the plain through the relent- less wind to the abandoned landing pod and the heaped drums. At Relief's direction, Sloonge shaped himself into a large, hollow bulb with a slim nozzle at one end. Retief uncapped half a dozen of the containers. "All right, Sloonge, load up," he directed. The bulky Interior Minister inserted his small end into the nearest drum, with a powerful muscular contraction siphoned out the con- tents. Quickly, he repeated the performance with the other containers. After the fourth he was swollen to a vast drum-tight bulk. "Retief," he telepathed faintly. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" "I hope so. Let's get started back." It was a painful progress. Laden with the sloshing bulk cargo, Sloonge moved heavily, clumsily, crawling over each bump and ridge with mute telepathic groans and moans. At last the range of hills that was His Suprem- acy loomed out of the driven smog. 176 Keith Laumer "Now—one last trick," Relief said. "You'll have to force an entry into the buccal cavity." "Impossible!" Sloonge expostulated. "How can I open a hurricane-proof mouth?" "Just far enough to get a finger in," Retief urged. Sloonge dragged himself across to the sealed, file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (121 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt fifty-foot-wide eating mouth, probed fruitlessly at the tight-sealed orifice. "I'll have to use a touch of the quirt," Retief said. "Get ready." He set the blaster at low heat, aimed it at the monstrous lip, and pressed the stud. For a moment, nothing happened; then the stony-looking hide twitched; for an instant, an opening appeared— Sloonge plunged his syringe-tip through as the mouth clamped tight again. "That—that smarts," he said. "Now what?" "Pump it in, Mr. Minister," Retief said. "Then we'll just stand back and wait." With a powerful contraction of his versatile body, Sloonge squirted two hundred and twenty gallons of high-grade medicinal min- eral oil into the alimentary canal of his mother country. 13 A gala crowd filled the newly decorated ball- room. Sloonge, impeccable in a tent-sized canary-yellow outfit on which the Order of the Purple Kidney—newly awarded for ser- vices to the Fatherland—sparkled, waved ge- RETIEP OF THE CDT 177 nially at the Terran Mission as they were announced. "Ah, there, Mr. Ambassador," he called, hur- rying forward to offer impromptu hands to all members of the delegation simultaneously. "You're looking quite your old self again after your ordeal." "Ordeal? What ordeal?" Wrothwax boomed, deftly lifting a glass from a passing tray. "Non- sense, my boy. I had a capital time exploring the palace catacombs." He snared a slab of pate from another tray. "I must confess I did get a trifle weary of maraschino cherries; had no rations but my emergency cocktail kit, you understand." "Oh? I had an idea you might have been, er, lost." "Nothing in it, Sloonge. Jolly interesting place, the catacombs. I was just on the point of deciphering a number of fascinating in- scriptions when the earthquake occurred." "You wouldn't have been snooping just a tiny bit?" Sloonge inquired archly, wagging a limp, file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (122 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt cucumber-sized finger at the Terran envoy. "Scholary research, my boy, nothing more," Wrothwax reassured his host, signaling for a refill. "Pity to abandon my finds, but I felt I should rush back and see to the safety of mv staff." - "In this case," Magnan murmured, "I'm sure excretion was the better part of valor." "Eh?" Wrothwax said. "For a moment I thought you said—but never mind. Slip of the tongue, eh?" "No doubt." 178 Keith Laumer "Quite. Pity I never got to meet His Su- premacy, Sloonge—but I'm sure you and I can come to an agreement regarding the ex- tensive deposits of pure corundum—rubies and emeralds to you, gentlemen—among which I found myself after the avalanche. Now, I had in mind a barter arrangement under which Corps bottoms haul in Groaci sand, for which you say you have a need, and take away these troublesome gems—waste products, I believe you called them ... ?" The Ambassador and the Minister strolled off, deep in negotiation. "Hmmmph," Magnan commented. "Never a word of gratitude to me for arranging his evacuation from the danger zone." "Still, for once a Terry Ambassador got in- side the problem," Retief said. "And as a result of my efforts—with your assistance, of course. Relief—emerged covered with, if not glory, rubies and emeralds." "And smelling like a rose," Retief agreed. TME PIECEMAKER5 "Gentlemen," Undersecretary for Extrater- restrial Affairs Thunderstroke announced in tones of doom, "it looks like war." "Eh, what's that?" a stout man in plainly tailored civvies spoke up blurrily, as one just awakened from a pleasant nap. "War, you say?" He slapped the conference table with a well-manicured hand. "Well, it's about time we taught the beggars a lesson!" "You've leaped to a faulty conclusion. Colo- nel," the Undersecretary said sourly. "We are file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (123 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt not on the point of embarking on hostilities—" "Naturally not," the Military Adviser said, rising. "Not your job. Civilians all very well, but time now for military to take over. You'll excuse me, Mr. Secretary, I must rejoin my regiment at once—" "Sit down, Henry," the Chief of the Groaci 179 180 Keith Laumer Desk said tiredly. "You haven't got the big picture. No Terran Forces are involved on Yudore at all. Strictly an Eetee affair." "Sound thinking." The Colonel nodded ap- provingly. "Why throw away the lives of Ter- ran lads when there are plenty of native lives available for the purpose? To be given selflessly in defense of sacred Terran principles, that is to say. By the way, which is our side?" "Try to grasp the point, Colonel," the Un- dersecretary said acidly. "We're neutral in the affair." "Of course, but whom are we neutral in favor of? Or in favor of whom, I should say, are we—" "No one! And we intend to keep it that way!" "Umm." The Colonel resumed his seat and his nap. "It appears," the Undersecretary resumed, "that our old friends the Groaci are locked in an eyestalk-to-eyestalk confrontation with the Slox." "What are these shiocks called, sir?" the Acting Assistant Deputy Undersecretary in- quired in a tone of deep synthetic interest. "Slox, Magnan, S-L-O-X. Inveterate trou- blemakers from the Slox System, half a dozen lights in-Arm. It appears both they and the Groaci are claiming mandateship of Yudore, an unexceptional planet of a small Class G sun well off the trade routes." "Well, why doesn't one of them just go man- date somewhere else?" a Commerce man de- manded. "There are scads of available planets out that way." RETIEF OF THE CDT 181 "The Groaci state that Yudore falls within their natural sphere of influence," Thunder- stroke said. "As for the Slox, their position is file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (124 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt that they found the place first." "They could flip a coin for it," the Com- merce man snapped. "Then we could all get back to matters of importance, such as the abnormal rate of increase in the rate of de- crease of the expansion of the trend toward reduction of increasing berp-nut consumption among unwed fathers ages nine through ninety on backward worlds of the Nicodeman group, a development which I just detected this morn- ing through the use of refined psychostatistical techniques." "Good lord, Chester"—a political forecast specialist picked up the cue—"what will be the projected impact of this downturn in the upturn?" "Upturn of the downturn, if you must use layman's language," Chester corrected. "Why, at the present rate it appears that by fiscal ninety-seven, there'll be a record high in un- wed fathers." "To return to the subject at hand, gentle- men," Thunderstroke cut in ominously, "both parties to the dispute have dispatched battle fleets to stand by off Yudore, primed for action." "Hmm. Seems to me there's a solution of sorts implicit in that datum," someone mur- mured. "Let us hope not! An outbreak of hostilities in the Sector would blot our copybooks badly, gentlemen!" Thunderstroke glared at the of- 182 Keith Laumer fender. "Unfortunately, the Groaci Ambassa- dor has assured me privately," he continued grimly, "that his government's position is un- alterable. Groaci doctrine, as he explained mat- ters, makes accommodation with what he terms 'vile-smelling opportunists' impossible, while a spokesman for the Slox has announced they refuse to yield an inch to the, ahem, 'five-eyed sticky-fingers,' as he refers to the opposition party." "It sounds like a major policy blunder on the part of the Groaci," Magnan observed con- tentedly. "How refreshing that for once the CDT is not involved." "We could hardly be said to be uninvolved, Mr. Magnan," Thunderstroke pointed out file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (125 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt sternly, "if we undertake to mediate the dis- pute." "No, I suppose not—but why be pessimis- tic? Who would be idiot enough to suggest poking our nose in that bag of Annelids?" "As it happens," Thunderstroke said in a voice like an iceberg sliding into an Arctic sea, "I did!" "You, sir?" Magnan croaked. "Why, what a splendid notion—now that I've had time to consider it in depth, I mean." "After all, our function as diplomats is to maintain interplanetary tensions at a level short of violence," a fragile-looking acting Section Chief sprang to the Undersecretary's support. "Would you want to make that 'reduce ten- sions,' Chester?" the Information Agency rep- resentative inquired, pencil poised, "Just in case you're quoted out of context." RETIEF OF THE CDT 183 "No reporters," Thunderstroke decreed. "I shudder to think what critics of the Corps might make of any little slip on our part in this affair." "I suppose you'll be sending along a hundred- man Conciliation Team with a squadron of Peace Enforcers to deal with the matter," Magnan said, a speculative look on his nar- row features. "Hardly," Thunderstroke said flatly. "This is a job for finesse, not brute diplomacy. In a situation of this nature, a single shrewd, in- trepid, coolly efficient negotiator is the logi- cal choice." "Of course, sir. How shallow of me not to have seen it at once." Magnan pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Naturally, the task calls for a man of wide experience—" "With a total contempt for deadly personal danger," someone put in. "Preferably without a family," Magnan added, nodding. "Too bad that lets me out," a Deputy Assis- tant Undersecretary said briskly. "As you know, I'm the sole support of twelve cats and a most demanding parakeet—" "I wasn't thinking of you. Henry," Thunder- stroke said severely. "I had in mind a more file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (126 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt senior diplomat; a man of lofty IQ, unshakeable principle, and unquestioned dexterity in the verbal arena." "Good lord, sir," Magnan blurted. "I appre- ciate your confidence, but my duties here—" "Unfortunately," Thunderstroke bored on, "the files have failed to produce the name of 184 Keith Laumer any such paragon; hence, I must make do with the material at hand." "Well!" Magnan muttered under his breath, then paled as Thunderstroke fixed him with an imperious eye. "I assume your inoculations are in order?" the Undersecretary inquired coldly. "Mine, sir?" Magnan said, pushing his chair back and rising hastily. "Actually, my hayfever shot is due in just under half an hour—" "I suggest you ask for a heavy dosage of antiradiation drugs while you're there," the Assistant for ET Affairs said cheerfully. "And of course a tetanus shot wouldn't do any harm." "Kindly be seated, Magnan," Thunderstroke barked. "Now, you'll be going in in a plainly marked courier vessel; I suggest you exercise caution as you approach the battle flotillas; the Slox are said to be even more trigger- happy than the notoriously impetuous Groaci." "I'm to go into that hornet's nest, sir—in an unarmed boat?" "You'll be armed with instructions, Magnan. Buck up, man! This is no time to show the white feather!" Magnan sank into his chair. "As for myself, I'm delighted, of course," he said breathlessly. "I was just thinking of all those innocent crew members." "I'd consider that aspect, Magnan. And, of course you're right. It would be folly to risk the lives of an entire crew." Magnan brightened. "Therefore, you'll be dropped a fractional RETIEF OF THE CDT 185 file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (127 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt A.U. from the scene of action in a fast one- man scout." "A one-man boat? But—" Magnan paused. "But unfortunately," he went on in tones of relief, "I don't know how to pilot one." "Why not?" Thunderstroke demanded. "Sector regs discourage it," Magnan said crisply. "Only last month a chap in my de- partment received a severe dressing-down for engaging in acrobatics over Lake Prabchinc—" "Oh? What's this fellow's name?" "Relief, sir; but as I said, he's already re- ceived a reprimand, so it won't be necessary—" "Retief," Thunderstroke made a note. "Very well. Make that a two-man scout, Magnan." "But—" "No buts, Magnan! This is war—or it will be if you fail! And time is of the essence! I'll ex- pect you and this Retief fellow to be on the way to the battle zone in an hour." "But, sir! Two diplomats against two fleets?" "Hm. Phrased in that fashion, it does sound a bit unfair. Still—they started it! Let them take the consequences!" 12 Strapped into the confining seat of the thirty- foot skiff waiting in the drop-bay of the Corps transport, Magnan watched the launch clock nervously. "Actually," he said, "the Undersecretary had his heart set on a one-man mission; but at my insistence he agreed to send me along with you. 186 Keith Laumer "I wondered who my benefactor was," Relief said. "Nice to know you were thinking of me." "Relief—are you implying—" Magnan broke off as the voice of the Captain of the mother ship rang from the panel speaker: "Fifteen seconds, gentlemen. Say, I hope your policies are all paid up; from what my trans- lator tells me about the transmissions those boys are exchanging up ahead, you're going to arrive just in time for M minute." "I wish he'd trip the launch lever," Magnan snapped. "I'll be profoundly happy to depart this hulk, if only to be away from that gloat- file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (128 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt ing voice." I heard that," the Captain said. "What's the matter, no sense of humor?" "I'm convulsed," Magnan said. "Better unconvulse," came the swift sug- gestion. "This is it. Happy landings!" There was a slam of relays, a thud, a jolt that dimmed the passengers' vision for a long, dizzying mo- ment; when it cleared, black space dotted with fiery points glared from the screens. Astern, the transport dwindled and was gone. "I'm picking them up already,' Relief said, manipulating the controls of the R-screen. "Our daredevil Captain practically dropped us in their midst." "Has the shooting started?" Magnan gasped. "Not yet; but from the look of those battle formations, it won't be long." "Maybe we ought to transmit our plea for peace from here," Magnan said hurriedly. 'Something eloquent to appeal to their finer natures, with just a smidgin of veiled threat on the side." RETIEP OF THE CDT 187 "I have a feeling it's going to take more than sparkling conversation to stop these fel- lows," Relief said. "Anybody who owns a brand-new battlewagon has a natural yen to see if it works." "I've been thinking," Magnan said abruptly. "You know how short the CDT is of trained personnel; now that we've seen the hopeless- ness of the task, it's our duty to salvage what we can from the debacle. Besides, an eyewit- ness report will be of inestimable value to the Undersecretary when the Board of Inquiry starts digging into the question of how he allowed a war to start right under our noses." "I'm with you so far, Mr. Magnan." "That being the case," Magnan went on, "if you should insist on withdrawing from the scene at this point, I hardly see how I could prevent you." "You're in command, Mr. Magnan," Retief pointed out. "But I have a distinct feeling that our reception back at Sector would be less than enthusiastic if we don't have at least a few blast burns on the hull to show for our trouble." "But, Retief!" Magnan pointed at the screen file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (129 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt on which the long, deadly looking shape of a Groaci cruiser was growing steadily: "Look at that monster, abristle with guns from stem to stern! How can you reason with that kind of firepower?" At that moment a crackle of static blared from the screen. A pale, alien visage with five stalked eyes stared out at the Terrans from under a flared war helmet. 188 Keith Laumer "To identify yourselves at once, rash inter- lopers!" a weak voice hissed in sibilant Groaci. "To be gone instanter or suffer dire conse- quences!" "Why, if it isn't Broodmaster Slith!" Magnan cried. "Relief, it's Broodmaster Slith! You re- member Broodmaster Slith, of the Groacian Trade Mission to Haunch IV?" "Is it you, Magnan?" the Groaci grated. "When last we met, you were meddling in Groaci affairs under the guise of selfless up- lifter, disrupting peaceful commerce. In what role do you now intrude in Groacian space?" "Now, Slith, you have to confess it was a bit much, selling plastic frankfurters to those poor backward hotdog lovers—" "How were we to know their inferior me- tabolisms were incapable of assimilating whole- some polystyrenes?" Slith snarled. "Enough of this chatter! Withdraw at once or take full responsibility for precipitation of a regrettable incident!" "Now, don't be hasty, Broodmaster—" "You may address me as Grand Commander of Avenging Flotillas Slith, if you please! As for haste, it is a virtue I recommend to you! In sixty seconds I order my gunners to fire!" "I suggest you reconsider. Commander," Retief said. "At the first shot from your guns, three will get you five the Slox open up on you with everything they've got." "What matter!" Slith hissed. "Let the mis- creants invoke the full wrath of outraged Groacihood!" "At a rough count, they have thirty-one ships RETIEF OF THE CDT file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (130 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt 189 to your twenty-four," Retief pointed out. "I think they've got you outwrathed." "But what's all this talk of shooting?" Magnan cried gaily. "What could possibly be gained by gunfire?" "Certain parcels of real estate, for a starter," Slith said crisply. "Plus the elimination of certain alien vermin." Magnan gasped. "You confess you're here to take Yudore by force?" "Hardly—not that the matter is of any con- cern to Terry spies! My mission here is to prevent the invasion of hapless Yudore by the insidious Slox—" "I hear this!" a rasping, high-pitched voice cut in from the auxiliary screen, accompa- nied by a hissing of background noise. A wa- vering image formed on the tube, steadied into the form of a shiny, purplish-red cra- nium, long and narrow, knobbed and spiked, with a pair of yellow eyes mounted on outrig- gers that projected a foot on either side. "I outrage! I do not endure! You are gave one minutes, Eastern Standard Time, for total abandon of vicinity! Counting! Nine, twelve, two, several—" "Wha—what is it?" Magnan gasped, staring at the newcomer to the conversation. "Aha—collusion between Soft One and Slox!" Slith keened. "I see it now! You thought to distract my attention with an exchange of ci- vilities whilst your vile cronies executed a sneak attack around left end!" "I—Chief General Okkyokk—chum to these monstrositaries?" The Slox spokesman screeched. 190 Keith Laumer "Such indignant my language lack! Insuf- ficient you threaten to lowly benefits of Slox Protectorate—but addition of insults! My good- ness! Drat! Other obscenity as required!" "It will avail you naught to rant, treacher!" Slith whispered in a venomous tone. "My guns stand ready to answer your slurs!" "Only incredible restrains of high-class Slox general intrudes herself to spare those skinny neck!" Okkyokk yelled in reply. "Now, now, gentlemen, don't get carried away," Magnan called over the hiss of static. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (131 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "I'm sure this can all be worked out equit- ably—" "Unless this pernicious meddler in the Groaci destiny disperses his flimsy hulls at once, I'll not be responsible for the result!" Slith declared. "My frustrate!" Okkyokk yelled, and bran- dished a pair of anterior limbs tipped with complicated shredding devices. "Gosh, such wish to know sensation of plait all five eyes into single superocular, followed by pluck like obscene daisy!" "To wait in patience until the happy moment when I officiate at your burial, head-down, in the ceremonial sandbox," Slith countered. "Well, at least they're still speaking to each other," Magnan said behind his hand as the exchange raged on. "That's something." "We may get through this without any hull- bums after all," Retief said. "They have each other bluffed; it looks like falk rather than torpedoes will carry the day. I suggest we execute a strategic withdrawal while they slug it out, vocabulary-to-vocabulary." RETIEF OF THE CDT 191 "Hmm. Scant points in that for Terran di- plomacy. That is, duty demands that we play a more creative role in the rapprochement." Magnan put a finger against his narrow chin. "Now, if I should be the one to propose an equitable solution ..." "Let's not remind them we're here, Mr. Magnan," Retief suggested. "Frustrated tem- pers are often taken out in thrown crockery, and we'd make a convenient teacup—" "Nonsense, they'd never dare." Magnan leaned forward. "Gentlemen!" he called over the din of battle. "I have the perfect solution! Since there seems to be some lack of confi- dence on the part of each of you in the benign intentions of the other, I propose that Yudore be placed under a Terran Protectorate!" Mag- nan smiled expectantly. There was an instant of total silence as two sets of alien sense organs froze, oriented to- ward the interruption. Slith was the first to break the paralysis. "What? Leave the fruits of Groaci planning to Terran harvesting? Never!" "I convulse!" Okkyokk howled. "I exacer- bate! I froth at buccal cavity! How are you file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (132 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt invite? Mercy! Heavens to Marmaduke! Et cetera!" "Gentlemen!" Magnan cried. "We Terrans would only remain on Yudore until such time as the aborigines had been properly educated in modem commercial methods and sexual hygiene, after which we'd withdraw in favor of local self-determination!" "First to pervert, then to abandon!" Slith 192 Keith Laumer hissed. "Bold threats. Soft Ones! But I defy you! General Okkyokk! I propose a truce, whilst we band together to confront the common enemy!" "Done! Caramba! I affronterize! I mortal insult! I even annoy! First destruction we the kibitzer! Then procedure to Slox-Groaci quarrel!" "Wait!" Magnan yelped. "You don't under- stand—!" "I'm afraid they do," Retief said as he reached for the controls. "Hang on for evasive action, Mr. Magnan." The tiny craft leaped ahead, curvetting wildly left and right. There was a flash, and the screens went white and blanked out. The boat bucked wildly and flipped end-for-end. A second detonation sent it spinning like a flat stone skipped over a pond. "Retief! Stop! We're headed straight for No Man's Land!" Magnan gasped as a lone screen flickered back to life, showing a vast Groaci battle wagon swelling dead ahead. "We're going in under their guns," Retief snapped. "Running away, we'd be a sitting duck." "Maybe they'll let us surrender!" Magnan bleated. "Can't we run out a white flag, or something?" "I'm afraid it would just give them an aim- ing point." Retief wrenched the boat sideways, rode out another near-miss, drove on, to dive under the big ship's stern. "Look out!" Magnan screeched as a vast, mottled, blue-green disk slid onto the screen. "We'll crash on Yudore!" RETIEP OF THE CDT 193 file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (133 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "If we're lucky," Retief agreed. Then the rising scream of splitting air made further conversation impossible. Except for the fading hiss of escaping air and the ping! of hot metal contracting, the only sounds audible in the shattered cockpit were Magnan's groans as he extricated him- self from the wreckage of his contour chair. Through a rent in the hull, yellow sunlight glared on the smoking ruins of the scout boat's control panel, the twisted and buckled floor plates, the empty pilot's seat. "Glad to see you're awake," Retief said. Magnan turned his aching head to see his companion leaning in the open escape hatch, apparently intact but for a bruise on the cheek- bone and a burned patch on the front of his powder-blue afternoon informal blazer. "The air's a little thin, but the Oz content seems adequate. How do you feel?" "Ghastly," Magnan confided. He fumbled his shock harness free and groped his way through the hatch to drop down shakily on a close-cropped, peach-colored sward. All around, tall, treelike growths with ribbed, red-orange trunks rose into the pale sky, supporting masses of spongy, tangerine-toned foliage. Clumps of yellow, amber, and magenta blossoms glowed in the shade like daubs of fluorescent paint. "Why are we still alive?" the senior diplo- mat inquired dazedly. "The last thing I re- 194 Keith Laumer RETIEF OF THE CDT 195 member is a pale-pink mountaintip sticking up through a cloud bank directly in our path." "We missed it," Relief reassured his chief. "There was just enough power left on our plates to cushion our touchdown. That and a lot of springy foliage saved our necks." "Where are we?" "On a small island in the northern hemi- sphere, which seems to be the only land on the planet. That's about as specific as I can be, I'm afraid—and I designated the North Pole arbitrarily at that." "Well—let's get it over with," Magnan sighed, looking around. "Where are they? I suggest we throw ourselves on Slith's mercy. Frankly, I don't trust that Okkyokk; there's something shifty about those cantilevered oculars of his.' file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (134 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "I m afraid we won't be able to surrender immediately," Relief said. "Our captors haven't arrived yet." "Hmm. Doubtless they're making a some- what less precipitous approach than we. I sup- pose we might as well make ourselves com- fortable." "On the other hand," Relief said reason- ably, "why wait around?" "What other hope of rescue have we?" "I don't think either party would make the ideal host—assuming they bother with live prisoners in the first place." "You're implying that Slith—a fellow bureau- crat—a being with whom I've shared many a convivial cup—would acquiesce in our execu- tion out of hand?" Magnan gasped. "He might—if he didn't do the job himself first." "Heavens, Relief, what are we to do? How far do you suppose it is to the nearest native village?" "I didn't see any signs of civilization on the way down: no towns, no roads or cleared fields. Let's give a listen on the long-wave bands." Retief climbed back inside the wrecked craft, investigated the shock-mounted TRX, spliced a number of broken wires, and twirled the knob. There was nothing but faint static to be heard. He switched to the ship-to-ship fre- quency. "—blundering two-eyed imcompetent!" Slith's furious voice came through loud and clear. "Your broken-down excuse for a flag- ship was closer to them than my own superb standard-bearer! It was your responsibility to blast them from space—" "My indignant! My furious! Heck! Dam! This accuse from a Five-eyes margarine-fingers! I intolerate! Too bad!" "Have done!" Slith hissed. "These vitupera- tions avail us naught! If the Soft Ones survive to make known that we fired on a Terran vessel—in self defense, of course—a horde of their execrable Peace Enforcers will descend on us like bim beetles in grub-harvest time!" "I proposterate! My laughter! Your numb- skull! Alive, oh! After such crashing, entirely! No, unpossible; I rediculate! Au contraire, I suggestion my resumption our dispute. Where file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (135 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt were? Indeed, yes—my descriptioning your ancestry—" "Hark, mindless one! Like other low forms of life, the Soft Ones are tenacious of vitality. 196 Keith Laumer We must make sure of their demise! Hence, I shall descend to administer the coup de grdce to any survivors, whilst you stand by off- planet—or, preferably, withdraw to neutral space—" "So you enable to theft these planet, unop- positioned? My amuse! My hylerical! Good- ness me! I accompanate, quite so!" "Very well—if you insist. You may accom- pany me aboard my personal gunboat. I'll designate a modest destroyer escort to convey us down to the surface." "Nix. I preference to my own vessel, grati- tudes anyhow. And my bring few Slox cruiser in order to not lonesome." "Cruisers?" Slith said harshly. "In that case, I think a pair of Groaci battleships would be in order—just to balance the formation, you understand." "Combination operate incompletion unless Slox battlewagon also include!" "Actually," Slith hissed, "I see no reason not to bring my entire fleet along—just in case you should entertain ideas of a sneak attack during my absence!" "My agreeness! I, too! The more the merri- ment! Gracious me! Full speed ahead! Devil take the hind parts!" "Agreed! Roger and out," Slith snapped. "Good heavens. Relief," Magnan muttered, "those two madmen are going to stage a full- scale invasion, just to keep an eye on each other—" "No one could accuse us now of having failed to influence the course of Slox-Groaci rela- RETIEF OF THE CDT 197 tions," Relief said calmly. "Well, let's be off. We have about an hour before they arrive." Quickly, he detached the compact radio from its mountings, extracted an emergency ration pack from the debris. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (136 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Which way?" Magnan queried worriedly, staring at the deep-orange shade of the forest all around. "Take your choice, Mr. Magnan," Relief said, indicating the four points of the compass. "Eeenie, meenie, miney, or moe." "Hmm. I think perhaps due meenie; it looks a tiny bit less forbidding; or possibly just a few points to the miney of meenie." "Meenie by miney it is," Retief said, and led the way into the tall timber. 4 "Retief—I'm utterly exhausted," Magnan panted three quarters of an hour and three miles from the wrecked scout boat. "We're not clear yet," Retief said. "We'd better keep going, and rest later." "I'd as soon face a Groaci firing squad as die of heart failure and heat prostration." Magnan sank down on the yielding turf, lay breathing in great gulps. "How about a Slox skinning party?" Retief suggested. "I understand they start with the scalp and work downward, like peeling a banana." "Jape if you must," Magnan groaned. "I'm past caring." He sat up suddenly, staring sus- 198 Keith Lawner piciously at a small, bell-shaped blossom, with petals of a delicate shade of coral pink. "Bees," he said distastefully. "Allergic as I am even to Terran insects, a sting from an alien form would probably be instantly fatal." "Still, as you pointed out, one demise is pretty much like another." Relief consoled his superior. "If it actually was a bee you saw, it's the first native animal life to make its presence known." "I didn't see it—but I heard it distinctly," Magnan said severely. "It buzzed practically in my ear." "This is a rather curious forest," Relief ob- served. "Only one variety of tree, one kind of grass, one type of flower, in assorted sizes and colors. But no weeds. No parasitic vines. No file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (137 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt big trees crowding out smaller ones, no stunted growth. Not even any deadfalls." "Ummp," Magnan grunted. "Retief, suppose for the nonce we succeed in eluding capture; what then? Nobody knows we're here. How will we ever be rescued?" "Interesting question, Mr. Magnan." "Not that it matters a great deal," Magnan went on morosely. "With my mission a failure— worse than a failure—my career is in ruins!" He groaned. "Do you realize that if it hadn't been for our meddling, this invasion would probably never have come to pass?" "The thought had occurred to me," Retief conceded. "To say nothing of the loss of the scout boat. If the Undersecretary holds me respon- sible—holds us responsible, I should say—that RETIEF OF THE CDT 199 is, in the event he doesn't hold you personally responsible, Retief, as pilot—why, you'll be years paying it off," he went on more cheer- fully. "Still, I'll put in a word for you. After all, Slith was shooting at us." "There is that." "And actually, who's to say it was my friendly attempt to offer a compromise that precipitated the invasion? I daresay the hot- heads would have embarked on their conquest in any event." "Possibly," Retief agreed. "Actually, by engaging them in conversa- tion, I doubtless delayed the inevitable for a ... a length of time." "Several seconds, at least." "Why, actually, Retief, by offering myself as a sacrifice on the altar of interbeing chum- ship, I may have saved countless lives!" "I suppose a certain number of bacteria were lost in our crash landing," Retief pointed out. "You scoff," Magnan charged. "But history will vindicate my stand! Why, I wouldn't be surprised if a special posthumous medal were struck—" He broke of with a start. "There it is again!" He scrambled up. "It sounded like an enraged hornet! Where did it go?" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (138 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt Retief cocked his head, listening, then leaned over to examine the clumps of apricot-colored flowers nodding on long stems, beside which Magnan had been sitting. "Don't waste time plucking nosegays!" Mag- nan yelped. "I'm under attack!" "Mr. Magnan, I don't think there are any insects in the vicinity," Retief demurred. 200 Keith Laumer "Eh? Why, I can hear them quite plainly!" Magnan frowned. "It sounds like one of those old-fashioned hand-crank telephones still in use out on Jawbone, when you leave it off the hook." "Close, Mr. Magnan," Retief said, and leaned down to put his ear to the trumpet-shaped bloom. "Well, I thought you'd never speak!" a tiny voice said distinctly in his ear. "Buzzing blossoms is quite fantastic enough," Magnan said wonderingly, "but talking tu- lips! Who'd ever believe it?" "... somebody to converse with," the cricket- sized voice was saying. "I'm dying to know all the news. Now, just tell me all about yourself: your hopes, your dreams, how you happened to be here—everything!" Retief held a blossom to his lips as if it were indeed the mouthpiece of a phone. "I'm Retief; this is my colleague, Mr. Magnan. Whom have we the honor of addressing?" "Well, nice to know you, Retief. And Mister Magnan, too. May I call you 'Mister' for short? First names are so much more sort of infor- mal. I'm Herby. Just a nickname, of course. Actually, I don't have a name. At least I didn't have, until dear Renfrew came along. You have no idea what a sheltered life I'd led up until then. Why, do you know, I had the idea I was the only sentient intelligence in the Galaxy?" RETIEP OF THE CDT 201 "Who ... who are you?" Magnan blurted. "Where are you? Why is the microphone cam- ouflaged to look like a plant?" "Camouflage? Why, there's no camouflage, mister. You see me just as I am." "But—I don't see you at all!" Magnan com- plained, looking around warily. "Where are file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (139 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt you hiding?" "You're squeezing me at this very moment," Herby said. "You mean—" Magnan held the faintly aro- matic blossom at arm's length and stared at it. "You mean—I'm ... you're ... we're ..." "Now you're getting the idea," the voice said encouragingly. "Talking flowers—here, in the middle of nowhere—and speaking Terran at that? I must be hallucinating! I've been driven mad by hardship!" "I doubt it, Mr. Magnan," Retief said sooth- ingly. "I hear it too." 'If I can imagine I hear voices coming out of posies, I can imagine you hearing them too," Magnan retorted tartly. "Oh, I'm real enough," the voice said reas- suringly. "Why should you doubt me?" "Who taught you to speak Terran?" Retief asked. "Renfrew. I learned so much from him. Curious—but before he came, it never occurred to me to be lonely—" "Who is Renfrew?" "A friend. A very dear friend." "Retief, this is fantastic!" Magnan whispered. "Are there ... are there many like you?" he inquired of the bloom. 202 Keith Laumer "No—just me. After all, there'd hardly be room, you know—" "What a coincidence!" Magnan exclaimed. "One talking plant on the entire world, and we stumble on it in the first hour! I'm begin- ning to think our luck is still holding!" "Now, where are you from, if you don't mind my asking?" the plant inquired. "We're Terrans," Magnan said. "And I'm sure we're going to get on famously, er, Herby." "But—I understood Terra was the name of Renfrew's home planet ... ?" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (140 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Quite so. Marvelous place, you'd love it, now that all the jungles have been cleared and replaced by parking lots ..." Magnan caught himself. "Ah, no offense intended, of course," he added hastily. "Why, some of my best friends are plants." "Heavens—all three of you from one planet? No wonder you left! Such overcrowding." "Yes—now, Mr. Herby—if you could just tell us the way to the nearest native settle- ment ..." "Buildings, you mean, and streets, space- ports, that sort of thing?" "Yes! Preferably not one of these dismal provincial towns. Something in a modest me- tropolis will do—" "Sorry, there isn't one—though Renfrew told me about them, of course." Magnan groaned. "No towns at all? Then ..." "Just jungle." "If this fellow Renfrew has a ship, we may be able to catch a ride with him. I wonder— could we meet him ... ?" RETIEF OF THE CDT 203 "Well—I suppose so, mister. He's quite nearby, as it happens—" "He's still here, then?" "Oh, yes indeed." "Saved," Magnan breathed in relief. "Can you direct us, Herby?" "Certainly. Just press on meenie, bearing a little to the miney after you cross the stream, then hard moe at the lake. You can't miss him." Magnan looked startled. "How did you know?" He frowned at Relief in puzzlement. "I thought we named the local directions ..." "Oh, indeed," Herby spoke up. "I merely employed your own nomenclature." "You must have a fantastic ear," Magnan said wonderingly. "That discussion was held miles from here." "I don't miss much," Herby said compla- cently. "He's remarkably sophisticated for such a modest bloom," Magnan commented as they file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (141 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt started off. "I suspect most of Herby is underground, Mr. Magnan," Relief pointed out. "There's no room for a speech center in the part we saw." "Gad—a subterranean cerebrum—like a giant potato?" Magnan said uneasily, tread- ing lightly. "A spooky thought, Retief." Twenty minutes' brisk hike brought the two Terrans to the shore of a small, gurgling brook overhung with majestically arching foliage. They followed the bank to the right for a quar- ter of a mile, at which point the waters spilled down in a foaming amber cataract into a placid pond half a mile across. 204 Keith Laumer "So far so good," Magnan said uncertainly. "But I see no signs of habitation, not even a hut, to say nothing of a ship ..." Relief moved past Magnan toward a dense thicket which obtruded somewhat from the smooth line of trees edging the lakeshore. He parted the broad, copper-colored leaves, re- vealing a surface of rust-pitted metal curving away into the dimness. "Lousy Ann II"—he read the corroded let- ters welded to the crumbling hull plates. "Looks like we've found Renfrew's ship." He pulled a low-growing branch aside. "And here's Renfrew." "Splendid!" Magnan hurried up, halted abruptly to stare in horror at the heap of moldering bones topped by a grinning skull still wearing a jaunty yachting cap. "That's ... Renfrew?" he quavered. "Quite so," said a deep voice from some- where overhead. "And take my word for it, mister—it's been a long, lonely time since he sat down there." 6 "Two hundred years, give or take a decade or two," Retief said as he climbed out through the derelict's sagging port, brushing the dust and rust-scale from his hands. "She was a Concordiat-registered racing sloop, converted for long-range cruising. What's left of the crew quarters suggests she was fitted out for one- man operation." RETIEF OF THE CDT 205 "That's right," agreed the resonant baritone— file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (142 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt which, the Terrans had determined, emanated from a large, orchidlike blossom sprouting amid the foliage twenty feet above their heads. "Just Renfrew. It was a small world he inhab- ited, but he seemed content with it. Not that he was stand-offish, of course. He was as friendly as could be—right up until the diffi- culty about his leaving." "What sort of, ah, difficulty?" Magnan in- quired. "He seemed quite upset that his vessel was unable to function. I did my best to console him; regaled him with stories and poems, sang merry songs—" "Where did you leam them?" Magnan cut in sharply. "I understood Renfrew was the first Terran to visit here." "Why, from him, of course." "Good lord—imagine having your own chest- nuts endlessly repeated back at you," Magnan whispered behind his hand. "Did you ever tell a joke to an Ambassa- dor?" Retief inquired. "A telling point," Magnan conceded. "But at least they usually add a little variety by gar- bling the punch line." "How did Renfrew happen to crash-land here?" Retief inquired. "Oh, he didn't; he came to rest very gently." "Then, why couldn't he take off again?" Magnan demanded. "I believe he described it as foreign matter in the warpilator field windings," the voice replied vaguely. "But let's not talk about the 206 Keith Laumer past. The present is so much more exciting! Heavens! There hasn't been such activity here since the last glacial age!" "Retief—there's something slightly piscine about this situation," Magnan murmured. "I'm not sure I trust these garrulous gardenias. Herby said he was the only one of his kind on the planet—yet here's another equally verbose vegetable." "Oh, that was quite true," the voice above spoke up promptly. "Why in the world would I lie to you?" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (143 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "Kindly refrain from eavesdropping," Mag- nan said coldly. "This happens to be a per- sonal conversation." "Not as personal as calling me a potato- brain," the orchid said a trifle coolly. "Goodness—I hope you don't listen to irre- sponsible gossip," Magnan replied with dig- nity. "Do I appear the type to employ such an epithet?" He put his mouth to Reliefs ear. "The grapevine here surpasses anything I've encountered, even at a diplomatic reception!" "Now, let me see," the voice from on high mused. "You mentioned something called a parking lot. I'd like to know more about that, and—" "I suppose Herby told you that, too!" Magnan snapped. "If I'd known he was such a blab- bermouth, I'd never have confided in him! Come, Retief—we'll withdraw to where we can have a modicum of privacy." "As to that, Mr. Magnan—" Retief started. "Not here," Magnan interrupted. He led the way a hundred feet down the shore, halted RETIEF OF THE CDT 207 under a spreading bough. "It's apparent I was indiscreet with that Herby person," he said from the corner of his mouth, without moving his lips. "I see now he was a rumor-monger of the worst stripe, in addition to being of ques- tionable veracity. Sole representative of his race, indeed! Why, I suspect every shrub in sight has a wagging tongue!" "Very probably," Retief agreed. "There's nothing to do now, quite obviously," Magnan said, "but select an honest-looking plant and approach the problem afresh, im- pressing the vegetable with our sincerity and benign intentions. Then, when we've wormed our way into its confidence, we can determine how to make use of it to our own best advan- tage. How does it sound?" "Familiar," Retief said. "Excuse me ..." Magnan jumped a foot as a voice squeaked the words almost in his ear. "What does 'sincerity' mean in this context?" "Very little," Retief addressed a cluster of small, russet buds almost invisible among the roan leaves overhead. "Is there no privacy to be found anywhere file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (144 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt in the confounded wilderness?" Magnan in- quired with asperity. "I'm afraid not," the miniature voice piped. "As I was telling you a while ago, there's not a great deal I miss." "A while ago?" Magnan repeated with a rising inflection. "Why, we've only just met!" "I don't understand. Mister. I'm Herby. You know me!" 208 Keith Laumer "Nonsense! Herby is a little chap growing under a tree a mile from here." "Of course! I grow everywhere, naturally. After all, it's my island, isn't it? Not that I'm not willing to share it with a few friends." "Utter nonsense!" Magnan sputtered. "I might have known a potato was incapable of coherent thought!" "Herby's telling the truth," Retief said. "It's all one plant: the trees, the grass—everything. Like a banyan tree, only more so." He exam- ined a flower closely. "There's a tympanic membrane that serves as both microphone and speaker. Very ingenious of Mother Nature." "In that case—they—or it—" "He," Retief amended. "He's overheard every word that's been spo- ken since we landed." Magnan addressed the blossoms directly: "Look here, Herby—you're aware that we're distressed diplomats, ma- rooned here by an unfortunate accident—" "I thought Slith and that other-fellow— Okkyokk—were responsible," Herby corrected. "They seem dreadfully argumentative chaps. I do wish they'd lower their voices." "Quite. Now, you're aware of their hostile intentions toward Mr. Relief and myself—" "Oh, my," Herby interrupted, "they do seem upset. Such language!" "Yes. Now, as I was saying ..." Magnan paused. "What do you mean, 'such language'?" "I was referring to Grand Commander Slith's rather graphic use of invective," Herby ex- plained. "Not that General Okkyokk isn't hold- RETIEF OF THE CDT 209 file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (145 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt ing his own, of course. I must say my vocabulary is expanding rapidly!" "You speak as though you could hear them now," Magnan commented, puzzled. "Ummm. On the ship-to-shore band." "But—you don't have a radio—do you?" "A what?" "If he has organs for detecting sound," Retief said, "why not organs for picking up short wave?" "Why—that's remarkable!" Magnan ex- claimed. "But short wave? It would be rather too much to hope that you can send as well as receive ... ?" "Why, I suppose I could transmit, via my snarf nodes, if there were any reason to." "Retief—we're saved!" Magnan caroled. "Herby—send the following message at once: Ah ... Special Priority-Z Mayday, CDT Sec- tor HQ, Aldo Cerise. CDT 87903 subject un- provoked attack—no, make that unwarranted attack—resulting in emergency planetfall—" "Oh, I'm sorry, mister," Herby cut in. "I couldn't send that." "But—why not?" "Why, if I did, some nose parker might come and take you away." "I sincerely hope so!" "I've waited two hundred standard years for someone to talk to," Herby said in a hurt tone. "Now you're talking of rushing off. Well, I won't do it." "The SOS is our sole hope!" Magnan cried. "Would you stand in the way of our rescue?" "Please—calm yourself, mister. Look at 210 Keith Laumer Retief: he's not making a scene. Just resign yourself to the fact that you'll spend the rest of your life here, and we'll get on famously— just as Renfrew and I did—right up until the last few days." "The rest of our lives?" Magnan gasped. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (146 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "But—but that's unthinkable! We may linger on for another fifty years!" "Not if Slith has his way," Retief said. "Where are they now, Herby?" "I was about to say," Herby began, "they would be arriving any moment..." The vege- table voice was drowned by a rising drone that swelled swiftly to a bellowing roar. A sleek, shark-nosed shape swept overhead, fol- lowed by another, two more, then an entire squadron. Sonic booms crashed across the jun- gle, laying patterns of shock ripples across the still water of the lake. Treetops whipped in the turbulent wakes as two battle fleets hur- tled past at low altitude, dwindled, were gone. "You see?" Herby said a trifle breathlessly into the echoing silence. "Two's company, but a crowd is altogether too much!" Retief twisted the knob of the radio slung at his belt. "... pinpointed our quarry!" Slith's breathy voice was keening. "If you will employ your units in enrircling the south shore of the is- land. General, I shall close the pincer to the north." "Looks like they've spotted us," Retief said. "Slith must carry better optical and IR gear than I gave him credit for." Sunlight winked on distant craft circling RETIEF OF THE CDT 211 back to spread out on the far side of the lake, sinking down out of sight behind the massed foliage of the forest. Other vessels were visible to left and right, and behind them. "Not much point in running cross-country," Retief said thoughtfully. "They've got us sur- rounded." "What are we going to do?" Magnan yelped. "We can't just stand here!" "Ouch!" Herby said suddenly. "Ooh! Ahh!" "What's the matter?" Magnan leaped in alarm, staring around him. "Why, that hurts like anything!" Herby ex- claimed indignantly. "It's the landing blasts." Retief indicated the smoke rising from points all around the file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (147 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt compass. "The Groaci still use old-style reac- tion motors for atmospheric maneuvering. Must be scorching Herby quite painfully." Magnan gasped. "You see what sort of un- couth ruffians they are?" he said indignantly. "Now, wouldn't you like to change your mind, Herby, and assist us—" "And collect a new crop of third-degree burns when your friends arrive? No, thank you! It's out of the question!" A deep-toned whickering sound had started up, grew quickly louder. "A heli," Retief said. "They're not wasting any time." In the shelter of the tree the two Terrans watched the approach of the small, speedy craft. It swung out over the lake, riffling the water, and hovered two hundred feet in the 212 Keith Laumer RETIEF OF THE CDT 213 "ATTENTION, TERRY SPIES!" an electron- ically amplified voice boomed out from it. "SURRENDER AT ONCE OR SUFFER A FATE UNSPEAKABLE!" "Herby—if those barbarians get their hands on us, our usefulness as conversationalists will come to an abrupt end," Magnan said urgently. "YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!" the PA blared. "EMERGE AT ONCE, EMPTY-HAND- ED!" "Maybe we can hide out in this dense growth," Magnan said. "If Herby will keep us apprised of their whereabouts. Maybe we can elude capture until help comes." The copter had drifted closer. "THIRTY SECONDS," the big voice boomed. "IF AT THE END OF THAT TIME YOU HAVE NOT SUBMITTED YOURSELVES TO GROACI JUSTICE, THE ENTIRE ISLAND WILL BE ENGULFED IN FIRE!" "Cook us alive?" Magnan gasped. "They wouldn't!" "Retief ... mister ..." Herby said worriedly. "Did he mean?" "I'm afraid so, Herby," Relief said. "But file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (148 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt don't worry. We won't let matters proceed that far. Shall we go, Mr. Magnan?" Magnan swallowed with difficulty. "I sup- pose a comfortable garroting in a civilized cell is preferable to broiling alive," he said in a choked voice as they walked out from the shade into the bright-orange sunlight of the beach. "A wise decision, Soft Ones," Slith whis- pered. "In return for your cooperation, I give my reassurances that your remains will be transmitted to your loved ones suitably pack- aged, with a friendly note explaining that you fell foul of the alert Groacian anti-spy appara- tus and were dispatched ere my personal intervention could save you from the just ret- ribution your crimes deserved." "Why, that's very thoughtful of you, I'm sure. Grand Commander," Magnan said, mus- tering a ghastly smile. "But might I suggest just one teensy change? Why not intervene just a bit sooner, and return us safe and sound—a stirring gesture of interbeing amity—" "My researches into the Terry nature," Slith interrupted, steepling his eyes—an effect which failed to reassure his listeners—"indicate that your kith respond most generously to those who adhere to a policy ofunanswerving hos- tility. This evidence of Groaci determination will evoke, I doubt not, a sizable increase in the Terry subsidy to the Keep Groac Gray drive—funds which will of course be quietly diverted to our urgently needed naval mod- ernization program, by the way." "But why?" Magnan clanked his chains dis- consolately. "Why can't we all just be dear, dear friends?" "Alas," Slith said. "Aside from the fact that we Groaci find you Soft Ones singularly re- pellent to all nine senses, rendering social in- 214 RETIEF OF THE CDT 215 Keith Laumer tercourse awkward, and the further fact that Terran ambitions Galactic-expansionwise con- flict with manifest Groaci destiny—plus the fact that I owe you suitable recompense for your malicious sabotage of my mercantile ef- forts at Haunch II—aside from these matters, I say—it's necessary at this juncture to silence file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (149 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt you." "S-silence us?" Magnan said. "Why, heav- ens, Commander Slith—if you're referring to the little misunderstanding that led to our unscheduled landing here on Yudore, don't give it a thought! Why, I've already forgotten it! Actually, it was probably just pilot error on the part of my colleague, Mr. Relief—" "He's not talking about that, Mr, Magnan," Retief said. "He's talking about his use of Yudore as a red herring to cover an attack on the Slox Empire." "Silence, verbose one!" Slith hissed; but Okkyokk, whose image on the conference screen had been quietly occupying a complicated perch in the background, spoke up: "Who this? My fascinate! Gosh! Tell more!" "Fool!" Slith leaped to his feet, vibrating his throat sac at Retief. "Your groundless in- sinuations deprive you of life's last sweet mo- ments!" He signaled the guards. "On with the executions, forthwith!" "Not so hurry. Five-eyes!" Okkyokk snarled. "Conversation me, Terry; my interest, oh yes! Tell on!" "Keep out of this, Okkyokk!" Slith hissed as the guards started forward eagerly. "My listen!" Okkyokk yelled. "Your forgot, Slith—I guns train on you! My chat these Terry—blow your in fragmentation, or!" "Better humor him, Slith," Retief said. "Inas- much as your fleet consists of disguised barges with dummy guns, you're in no position to call his bluff." Slith made spluttering sounds. "No gun?" Okkyokk chortled. "Good new tonight! Tell more, Terry!" "It's quite simple," Retief said. "Slith lured you out here to get your gunboats out of the way so he could proceed to attack the Slox home planets with minimal interference. The bombardment is probably underway right now." "Lies!" Slith found his frail voice. "Okky- okk—heed not the treacher's vile fables! He seeks to set us at odds, each with other!" file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (150 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "I grateful you extreme, Terry!" the Slox Commander grated in a voice like a steel girder shearing, ignoring Slith's appeal. "Prepara- tion you for dead, Groaci bigshot! Fake up big war, eh, you tell. Make fool allbody, eh? Then join force and invasion Terries, eh? Fruits and nuts! You never delusion me for every! Hold on hats, kids—" "Don't fire!" Slith screeched. "The Soft One lies—which I can prove in most dramatic fashion—by blasting your cancerous aggrega- tion of derelicts into their component atoms!" "Retief—say something!" Magnan yelped. "If they start shooting—" "Then you Soft Ones will die!" Slith hissed. "If they prevail—you die with my flagship— and if I prevail—then long shall you linger under the knives of my virtuosi!" 216 Keith Laumer "How you plan do so big shoot with empty gun?" Okkyokk inquired warily. "Retief!" Slith cried. "Confess to him you lied—else will I decree torments yet uninvented to adorn your passing!" "Better open fire quick—if you can," Retief said. "As for you, General," he addressed the screen, "it always pays to get in the first lick—" "Retief, what are you saying?" Magnan yelped. "Why goad them to this madness? No matter who wins, we lose!" "My confuse!" Okkyokk stated. "Splendor idea, shoot up unarmed Five-eyes—but what if Terry big lying?" "Don't let him get the jump on you, Slith," Retief advised. "Gunnery Officer!" the Groaci Commander hissed in sudden agonized decision. "All bat- teries—open salvo fire!" The response was instantaneous; a series of hollow clicking sounds over the intercom. Then the dumbfounded voice of the Gunnery Officer: "Exalted one—I regret to report ..." "Sabotage!" Slith yelled. On the screen, Okkyokk paused, one digital member poised file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (151 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt above a large puce button. "How, no explosing? Guns fails operationing, just as Terry inform? Splendor!" the Slox leader waggled his ocular extrusions. "Now time procedure to extermination you with lei- surely! Master Gunner—procedure blow picture window in Five-eyes flagship, give Commander Slith good viewing of eventuals!" Slith hissed and sprang for the door, where he fought for position with the guards who RETIEF OF THE CDT 217 had reached the portal before him. Magnan covered his ears and screwed his eyes shut. "Whats?" Okkyokk's puzzled voice was com- ing from the screen. "Hows? Malfunctionate of firepower at times like these? My intolerate! Caramba! Oh, heck!" "I suggest both you gentlemen relax," Retief raised his voice slightly over the hubbub. "No one's going to do any shooting." "So ... your spies have infiltrated my flag- ship!" Slith hissed. "Little will it avail you, Retief! Once in space, my most creative efforts will be lavished on your quivering corpori!" He scrabbled on the rug, came up with his command mike. "Engineer! Lift off, emergency crash procedures!" "Another disappointment in store, I'm afraid, Slith," Retief said as no surge of acceleration followed. "Herby's particularly sensitive to rocket blasts," he explained gently. "Ergo—no lift-off." "Herby?" Slith keened, waggling his eyes, from which the jeweled shields had fallen in the tussle. "Herby?" "Herby," Okkyokk muttered. "What Herby, which?" "Herby!" Magnan gasped. "But ... but ..." "Undone?" Slith whispered. "Trapped here by the treachery of the insidious Soft Ones? But briefly shall you gloat, my Retief!" The Groaci jerked the elaborately ornamented power-gun from the plastic alligator-hide hol- ster at his bony hip, took aim ... "Three and out," Retief said, as Slith stared in goggle-eyed paralysis at the small, coral- 218 Keith Laumer toned flower growing from the barrel of the file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (152 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt weapon. "Herby appreciates my conversation far too much to let you blow holes in me. Right. Herby?" . . "Quite so, Retief, a cricket-sized voice chirped from the dainty blossom. "My departure, golly whiz!" Okkyokk's voice blasted from the screen. "Navigationer—full fast ahead!" , "No use, General," Retief said. "Everybody s grounded. Your field windings are full of vines, I'm afraid." ,,,, ,>» "So that's why Renfrew couldnt leave! Magnan gulped. "I knew it all along, of course." "What does this mean?" Slith whispered. "It means you've been conquered single- handed by a population of one," Retief ad- dressed the alien leaders. "So—if you're ready, gentlemen, I'm sure Herby will be willing to discuss the terms of your surrender." 8 "Heavens, Retief," Magnan said, adjusting the overlapping puce lapels of his top-formal midmoming cutaway in the gilt-framed mir- ror outside the impressive mahogany doors of the Undersecretary for Extraterrestrial Affairs. "If we hadn't seized a moment to transmit a distress call on Slith's TX while Herby was busy taking the surrender, we might still be languishing in boredom on that dismal island." "I doubt if we'd have been bored," Retief pointed out, "with several hundred grounded RETIEF OF THE CDT 219 sailors roaming the woods blaming us for their troubles." "What a ghastly experience, with every bush and bough jabbering away in coloquial Slox and accentless Groaci, carrying on twelve hun- dred scrambled conversations at once!" "In time I think Herby would have mas- tered the knack of segregating his dialogues," Retief said. "Even with a slice missing from that four-mile-long brain the soundings showed, he should be a fast learner." "He certainly mastered the technique of cre- ative negotiation with record speed," Magnan agreed. "I can't help feeling a trifle sorry for poor Slith and Okkyokk; their fleets consigned to molder on the ground, the while they sup- ply teams of conversationalists in relays in file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (153 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt perpetuity for the diversion of their conqueror." Retief and Magnan turned as the elevator doors opened behind them. An orderly emerged, pushing a teacart on which rested a hand- some teak tub containing a tall, lilylike plant topped by a six-inch flower, glowing a healthy pink and yellow. "Ah, gentlemen," the blossom greeted them in a mellow tenor voice, "I'm happy to report that new scenes seem to stimulate me—or at least this slice of me!" Magnan shuddered delicately. "Imagine sprouting a bureaucrat from a wedge of fron- tal lobe," he said behind his hand. "It makes my head ache just to think of it." A slender man with thick spectacles thrust his head from the Secretarial suite. "The Secretary will see you now," he an- 220 Keith Laumer nounced, and held the door as the orderly wheeled the cart through. "Mr. Secretary," Magnan said grandly, "I have the honor to present His Excellency the Herbaceous Ambassador." "Delighted to meet you, sir or madam," Thunderstroke rumbled, inclining his head gra- ciously to the bloom, which nodded in reply. "Now—do tell me all the details of how you captured two fully armed war fleets ..." Retief and Magnan withdrew, leaving the Undersecretary listening attentively to his vis- itor's account of the sapless victory. "Lobotomy seems to agree with Herby," Magnan observed complacently. "Well, I must hurry along, Retief. I have a modest cutting I plan to infiltrate into the flowerbed under the Groaci Ambassador's window." He hurried off. "Tsk," said a tiny voice from the pink bou- tonniere adorning Relief's topmost lapel. "The segment of me you left with the Undersecre- tary is being regaled with a rather gamey anecdote about cross-fertilizing tearose bego- nias ..." "It's not considered polite to listen in on private conversations, Herby," Retief pointed out. "How can I help it?" the blossom protested. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (154 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Keith%20Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt "After all, it's me he's talking to!" "Just don't repeat what you hear. Unless," Retief added as he strolled off toward the Chancery bar, "it's something you think I re- ally ought to know ..." Joseph H. Delaney, co-author of Valentina: Soul in Sapphire, is back with his most ambitious work yet—a massive volume that is awesome in scope and stunning in execution. The time is 18,000 years in the past. Aged and ailing, tribal shaman Kah-Sih-Omah has prepared himself to die, seeking final refuge far from the lands of his peo- ple. The time of his passing is near when alien beings chance upon him. As an experiment, they correct his body's "inefficiencies"—then depart, leaving behind something that could not be, but is. Kah-SiK-Omah finds himself whole again, and ac- cepts this as a gift from the gods. Accordingly, he returns to his people, overjoyed that he may once again protect and lead them. But he is met with fear and rejection, and must flee for his life. Soon he discovers the incredible abilities with which he has been en- dowed, and embarks on a centuries-long journey that takes him across much of Earth, as well as to other worlds. During his travels, he struggles with the ques- tion of why he was granted strange powers and an extended lifespan. The answer awaits him in the far future ... In the Face of My Enemy is a book rich in character- ization and historical background, and one which is guaranteed to intrigue readers. A map tracing Kah-Sih- Omah's travels on Earth highlights this fascinating saga. Available November 1985 from Baen Books 55993-1 • 352pp. • $2.95 To order by phone: Call (212) 245-6400 and ask for extension 1183, Telephone Sales. To order by mail: Send the title, book code number, and the cover price, plus 75 cents postage and handling, to BAEN BOOKS, 260 Fifth Ave., Suite 3S, New York, N.Y. 10001. Make check or money order payable to Pocket Books. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...0Laumer%20-%20Retief%20of%20the%20COTUC.txt (155 of 155) [2/4/2004 11:28:28 PM]