Retief-Ambassador to Space (3 page)

The heli approached the browsing
dinosaur at three hundred feet, circled him while Retief observed. The giant
saurian, annoyed by the buzzing interloper, raised his great-jawed head,
emitted a bellow like a blast on a giant tuba. Retief caught a vivid glimpse of
a purple throat wide enough to drive a ground car through, studded with fangs
like stalactites.

"Friendly-looking fellow. Is it
possible to predict his course?"

"Maybe; Crunderthush always take
it easy, graze village over pretty good before move on to next. About done
here, I estimation. By lunchtime start toward next stop, half mile south."

"Let's cruise over that
way."

Haccop dropped the heli to a
fifty-foot altitude, buzzed across the flat water, leaving behind a pattern of
blastripples, bending the scattered reeds in the wind of its passage.

"How deep is the water
here?" Retief called.

"Knee-deep at low tide."

"When's low tide?"

"Hour before sunset
tonight."

"What's the bottom like?"

"Exquisite soft mud. Hey, master,
you like go down scroonch around in mud awhile? Is good for what ails
you—"

"Sorry, we Terries aren't
amphibians, Haccop."

"Oops, big excuses, chief; not
mean draw attention to racial deficiencies."

"Will Crunderthush follow a
straight course across the swamp?"

The heli was over the mud walls of the
next village now. Retief could see the inhabitants going about their business
as usual, appartently undisturbed by their position next on the menu.

"No telling, boss; might get
distracted by juicy fisherman or unwary swimming party."

"Can we hire boats down there,
and a few helpers?"

"Retief-master, you got enough
cash to hire whole town." Haccop signed. "That pot before last; I
never figured you for eagles back to back—"

"No post-mortems," Retief
admonished. "Land there, in the marketplace."

Haccop dropped the flier in, grinned
at the quickly gathering crowd of curious locals.

"I tell hicks go away, give
Retief-boss room walk around, do little shopping?" he suggested.

"Absolutely not; we're going to
need them. Listen carefully, Haccop; here's what I have in mind ..."

It was late afternoon when Retief, wet
and plastered to the hips with black mud, signaled to Haccop to land at the
northernmost point of the village, a narrow ringer of land edged by a baked-mud'
retaining wall. Half a mile away, wading ponderously across the shallows,
Crunderthush rumbled softly to himself.

"The sound carries well, across
the water," Retief commented. "It sounds as though he's right on top
of us."

"Arid will be, plenty chop-chop,"
Haccop pointed out. "Retief-master think rope across water make big fella
fall down?" The Rockamorran waved a hand at the taut one-inch nylon cable
stretch two feet above the surface of the water across the oncoming monster's
path.

"He won't get that far, if
everything works out all right. How much time do we have? Another hour?"

"Crunderthush stop now to
scratch—"

Retief observed the dinosaur sinking
to his haunches, bringing up a massive hind leg to rake at the armored hide
with two-foot talons, amid a prodigious splashing. "Maybe have hour, hour
and half before dinnertime." Haccop concluded judiciously.

"OK, let's get moving! Get the
hauling crew over here on the double. Have them attach a line to the center of
the cable, and winch it this way until they can hook it over the trigger."
Retief pointed to a heavy timber construction consisting of an eighteen-inch
pile projecting a yard from the ground with a toggle mounted atop it.

"Retief-chief, humble slave
bushed from all day stringing wires to trees—"

"We'll be through pretty soon.
How's the axe-crew doing with that pole?"

"Top hole, sahib. Pretty near get
nice point on one end, notch on other—"

"Get it set up here as soon as
they're finished; prop it in the two forked saplings the boys are supposed to
set in the bottom out there."

"Too many thing do all one
time," Haccop complained. "Bwana Retief have strange hobby—"

"I'm taking the heli into town;
I'll be back in half an hour. Have everything ready just the way I explained
it, or it won't be just Terry heads rolling around here."

The great pale sun of Rockamorra, with
its tiny blue-white companion close behind, was just sinking in a glory of
purple and old rose as Retief returned to ground the heli at the village.

"Ohio, Retief-san!" Haccop
called. "All set, accordingly to plan! Now we hit trail, plenty quick!
Crunder-thush too close for maximizing adjustment!"

"Look at the creature!"
Whaffle quavered, descending from the heli. "As big as a Yill Joss
Palace—and coming this way!"

"Why have you brought us here,
Retief?" Pinchbot-tle demanded, his jowls paler than usual. "I prefer
beheading to serving as hors d'oeuvre to that leviathan!"

"It's quite simple, Mr.
Ambassador," Retief said soothingly, leading the stout diplomat across to
where Haccop stood beaming beside the completed apparatus. "You merely use
this mallet to hit the trigger; this releases the cable, which drives the
lance—"

"R-R-R-R-Retief! Are you unaware
that-that-that—"

"I know: he looks pretty big at a
hundred yards, doesn't he, Mr. Magnan? But he moves slowly. We have plenty of
time—"

"We? Why include
us
in
this mad venture?" the portly envoy demanded.

"You heard what Haccop said, sir.
You gentlemen have to personally kill the creature. I think I have it arranged
so that—"

"Oh-oh, Master!" Haccop
pointed. "Look like distraction! Couple drunks going fishing!"

Retief followed the Rockamorran's
gaze, saw a dugout pushing off with two staggering locals singing gaily as they
took up paddles, steered for deep water on a course that would take them within
fifty feet of the dinosaur.

"Try to stop them, Haccop! If he
changes course now, we're out of luck!"

Haccop splashed out a few yards into
the mud, floundering, cupped his hands and bellowed. The fishermen saw him,
waved cheerfully, kept going.

"No use, boss." Haccop waded
back to shore.
"Look,
better you and me make tracks, hit town
farther up archipelago; swell floating crap game going—"

"Mr. Ambassador, stand by!"
Retief snapped. "I'll have to bait him in. When I give the word, hit that
trigger, and not a second before!" He sprinted to the small wharf nearby,
jumped into a tethered boat, slipped the painter, plied quickly out toward
Crunder-thush. The monster was poised now, mouth open, gazing toward the
fishermen. He emitted a rumbling growl, turned ponderously, took a step to
intercept them. Retief, cutting in front of the dinosaur, waved his paddle and
shouted. The giant reptile hesitated, turned to stare at Retief, rumbled again.
Then, at a burst of song from the happy anglers, swung back their way. Retief
stopped, plucked a rusty fishing weight from the bottom of his skiff, hurled it
at Crunderthush. It struck the immense leathery chest with a resounding
whop!
at which the monster paused in mid-swing, brought its left eye to bear on
Retief. It stared, cocked its head to bring the right eye into play, then, its
tiny mind made up, raised a huge foot from the mud with a sucking sound,
started for Retief. He eased the boat back with quick strokes of the paddle;
the dinosaur, tantalized by the receding prey, lunged, gained thirty feet,
sending up a swell which rocked the tiny craft violently. Retief grabbed for
balance, dropped the paddle.

"Retief-boss!" Haccop
boomed. "This no time to goof!"

"Somebody do something!"
Magnan's voice wailed.

"He'll be devoured!" Whaffle
yelped.

The dinosaur lunged again; his
power-shovel jaws gaped, snapped to with a clash of razor-edged crockery a yard
short of the boat. Retief, standing in the stern, gauged the range, then turned
and raised an arm, brought it down in a chopping motion.

"Let her go, Mr.
Ambassador!" he called, and dived over the side. Ambassador Pinchbottle,
standing transfixed beside the trigger apparatus of the oversized arbalest,
gaped as Crunderthush raised his long neck twenty feet above the water,
streaming mud, emitted an ear-splitting screech, and struck at Retief, swimming
hard for shore. At the last instant, Retief twisted, kicked off to the left.
The monster, confused, raised his head for another look; his eye fell on the
diplomats on shore, now only fifty feet distant. At his glance, Pinchbottle
dropped the heavy mallet, turned and sprinted for the heli. Three other Terrans
gave sharp cries and wheeled to follow. As the stout mission chief bounded past
Secretary Magnan he tripped, dived face-down in the soft dirt. The mallet
skidded aside; Magnan sprang for it, caught it on the second bounce, leaped to
the trigger, and brought the hammer over and down in an overarm swing—

There was a deep, musical
boing!
The sharpened twelve-foot hardwood pole leaped forward as the taut nylon sprang
outward. Crunderthush, just gathering himself for the final satisfying snap at
the morsel in the water before him, rocked back as the lance buried half its
length full in his chest. Retief surfaced in time to see the dinosaur totter,
fall sideways with a tremendous splash that swamped the sea wall, sent a tide
of mud-and-blood-stained water washing around the frantic Terrans fighting for
position at the heli hatch. Pinchbottle staggered to his feet sputtering, as the
flood receded from his position. Magnan sat down hard, fumbled out a hanky and
daubed mud from his lapels, watching the stricken monster kicking
spasmodically. Haccop whooped delightedly, plunged into the water to assist
Retief ashore.

"Nice going, Sidi! Plenty meat
here for barbecue for whole town! Dandy substitute event for disappoint of not
to see Terry head-chopping after all!"

Dabbing at his mud-caked shirt front,
Ambassador Pinchbottle nodded curtly at Retief.

"Having gotten me into this
awkward situation, young man, I'm glad to see that you carried on to rectify
matters. Naturally, I could have extricated myself and my staff at any time,
merely by a skillful word in the right quarter, but I felt it would be valuable
experience for you to work this out for yourself—"

"Hey, Retief-master, I form
Terries up in column of ducks, go get fitted for leg irons?"

"No, I don't think that will be
necessary, Haccop—"

"What's that? Leg irons?"
Pinchbottle whirled on the Rockamorran. "See here, you nincompoop, I've
slain your monster, as required by your barbaric code! Now I demand—"

"Slave not demand nothing,"
Haccop said. "Slave hold mouth right, work hard, hope for escape
beating—"

The Ambassador spun to face Retief.
"What, may I ask, is the meaning of this idiot's driveling?"

"Well, Mr. Ambassador, the
Rockamorrans have very rigid rules about this sort of thing, However, I managed
to work out a deal with them. Ordinarily, you couldn't have any assistance in
carrying out your oath—"

"Assistance? I seem to recall
that you were disporting yourself in the swamp yonder when I—er, ah—
a
member of my staff, that is—dispatched the brute!"

"True; but the Rockamorrans seem
to think I had something to do with it. Under the circumstances they agreed to
commute your sentence to slavery for life."

"Slavery!"

"Fortunately, I was able to buy
up an option on your contracts—provided you still had heads—"

"Buy up ... ? Well, in that case,
my boy, I suppose I can overlook the irregularity. If you'll just run along and
see to my baggage—"

"I'm afraid it's not quite that
simple, sir. You see, I still have to pay your upkeep, and since I've spent all
my money buying you—"

Pinchbottle sputtered incoherently.

"... I've had to hire you out to
earn enough to cover living expenses until the ship gets back."

"But-but—that will be
weeks—"

"OK, Terries; I, Haccop, am slave
foreman. First job, strip out blubber from dead monster. Good job, take maybe
two weeks, keep you in ration with maybe little left over for pack of Camels
once a week—"

"But-but—Retief! What will you be
doing in the meantime?"

"Haccop tells me there's another
dinosaur operating a few miles east. If I can bag it, that will give you
another two weeks' work after this job's finished. With a little luck, I can
keep you going until the ship arrives."

"Hey, Retief ..." Haccop
came close, whispered behind his hand, "Maybe better bring thin-face slave
name Magnan along you, me. Got idea Midget-with-bad-temper hold grudge, Magnan
trip him and make him lose number one position in dash for heli ..."
"Good idea, Haccop, bring him along ..."

Two hours later, Retief, Haccop, and
Magnan, bathed and clad in new Rockamorran hose and doublets, sat on a tiled
roof terrace, dining on a delicately spiced casserole of whitefish and sea
vegetables. The view out over the town and the water to the east was superb;
the brilliant light of the three moons showed the silvery waterways, the
island-villages, and, distantly, the great hulk of the dead dinosaur, its four
legs in the air, and four tiny figures crawling over it like fleas. Their arms,
wielding machetes, could be clearly discerned.