Retief and the PanGalactic Pageant of Pulchritude (27 page)

"Jeez,
I'd sure like to join in," Gloot sighed, eyeing the battle enviously and
massaging a number of lumpy fists. "But I guess you're right: We better
steal down to the beach while the stealing's good."

"A
splendid notion," Magnan said quickly. "Speaking of stealing, if we
hurry we might be able to borrow the patrol boat; much faster than rowing, and
far less conducive to blisters."

"On the
other hand," Retief pointed out, "I suspect Colonel Suash and his
troops are stationed here for a reason—presumably guard duty. If we knew what
he was guarding, it would spice up our report on our field trip."

"Yes,
but in this wilderness. . . ." Magnan said indecisively.

"I'm
curious as to where Pilth was headed in such haste. If we follow him, we might
find answers to both questions."

"He's
gone nuts is all," Gloot explained. "He panicked and headed for the
deep swamp. Forget the Terry; we can still make it back to town in time to get
in on the Midnight Melee."

"I have
a feeling a somewhat larger melee is in the making, nearer at hand."

"A
rumble in town is worth two in the bushes, as the old saying goes," Gloot
said. "On the other hand, I kind of like your style, Retief. You don't say
much, but where you are is where stuff seems to happen. I'm with you!"

Together,
Retief, Magnan, and Gloot set off in the wake of the Groaci
agent
provocateur
. The path, while narrow, was high and dry, twisting and turning
to avoid the boles of giant, moss-hung trees rising from the dark water,
skirting the deeper pools. In a small, open patch of spongy ground the trail
ended abruptly. There was no sign of Pilth.

"Well,
whattaya know," Gloot commented, peering into the surrounding darkness.
"Who would of thought the little Terry was that fast on his feet? He's
gone and got clean away, so I guess we might as well get started back—"

"Listen,"
Retief said softly. From somewhere ahead, a faint cry rang out. He started off
at a run, picking a route from one root-clump to another. A hundred feet
farther on, he emerged into the open to witness a curious sight; from a sturdy
bough overhanging the path, Pilth dangled by one leg in midair, supported in an
inverted position by a length of stout rope.

"Good
of you to wait, Pilth," Retief said. "An excellent spot for a
confidential talk."

"To cut
me down at once and to enjoy the eternal gratitude of the Groacian state,
renewable annually at a modest fee," the snared alien whispered.

"Stumbled
over one of your own trip wires, eh?" Retief said sympathetically.
"It's one of the hazards of the diplomatic way of life."

"What
is this talk of diplomatic wiles? As it happens, I am a simple scientist, here
to observe the nest-building habits of the Lesser Tufted Adam's Apple—"

"Sorry,
Pilth, an ingenious cover, but blown, I'm afraid. We met a few years back, when
you were number two to General Fiss, the time he tried to take over Yale."

"Tour
Director Fiss and I were interested only in the excavation of artifacts of the
Yalcan culture!" Pilth protested.

"You
Groaci have pioneered the science of instant archaeology, true," Retief
conceded, "but good form requires that you wait until the owners aren't
using the bones any longer before you try to wire them together in a glass
case. However, we have more immediate matters to discuss at the moment. Let's
begin with where you were headed in such haste."

"I find
it singularly difficult to marshal my recollective faculties while suspended in
this unseemly position," the Groaci hissed.

"You'd
find it even more difficult if the point of attachment were your third thoracic
vertebra," Retief pointed out.

"Long
will this day live in infamy," Pilth wailed. "Very well, Terry, I'll
reveal my destination, but only under protest. As it happens, I maintain a
modest retreat in the foothills above, to which I retire on occasion to
meditate. Now cut me down promptly and in my report I'll do my best to minimize
the shabby role you played in this sorry contretemps!"

"Too
late for secrecy now," Retief said as Gloot and Magnan arrived panting,
splashed with mud and festooned with algae.

"Well,"
the first secretary said as he spied the dangling alien, "at least he had
the decency to attempt suicide—though one might have known he'd bungle
it."

"You
speak of suicide, soft one?" Pilth keened. "Such

indeed is
the fate of those who would invade the sacrosanct precincts of, ah, my bucolic
hideaway," he finished weakly.

"Don't
imagine for a moment that your threats intimidate me," Magnan replied
loftily. "It's just that we happen to be leaving now anyway. Come, Retief,
suitably padded—discussed in adequate detail, that is—my report of the
disasters we've encountered up to this point will serve adequately to impress
the ambassador with my zeal."

"An
inspiring thought, Mr. Magnan. Just picture his expression when you tell him
you've discovered there may be a plot afoot to take over Lumbaga, and that you
hurried back to let him know, without wasting time finding out when, where,
why, and how."

"But,
as I was about to say," Magnan said quickly, "why dash off just when
we're on the verge of achieving a coup of such stunning proportions?"

"Now,
just how would one go about finding this weekend cottage of yours?" Retief
queried Pilth.

"You
imagine, presumptuous alien, that I would reveal details of my personal affairs
to such as you?"

"My
mistake, Pilth." Retief turned to Magnan and Gloot. "It seems we'll
have to find it on our own. Shall we go, gentlemen?"

"What—and
leave me here suspended, prey to any passing appetite, to say nothing of the
risk of incipient apoplexy?" Pilth shrilled in protest.

"Yeah,
that would be cruel," Gloot said and drew his knife. "I'll just slit
the sucker's throat(tm)"

"Oh, I
don't think that will be necessary," Magnan said judiciously, as Pilth
uttered a yelp of dismay. "Just cut him down, truss him securely, and tuck
him under a bush well out of sight."

"There
to starve, assuming the unlikely eventuality that I'm overlooked by
predators?"

"We'll
leave the details to you, chum," Gloot said callously.

"I
capitulate!" the Groaci hissed. "Proceed northeast by east to a lone
foof
tree, take a right, proceed another hundred paces upslope, and you will
confront my private lair. I appeal to your better natures to pry then no more,
but to betake yourselves in haste to more congenial surroundings, there to
report favorably on this concrete evidence of the importance of the reflective
life in the philosophy of the benign Groaci!"

"I
don't get it," Gloot said. "How come this Terry's all the time
putting in a plug for you Groaci?"

"Conscience,"
Magnan said crisply. "I suppose you may as well cut him loose now—provided
he promises not to go scuttling ahead and spoil our surprise."

"I
assure you I will scuttle in another direction entirely," Pilth whispered
as Gloot slashed the rope, allowing him to drop to the ground with a painful
impact. He sprang up and disappeared along the backtrail.

"I'm
not sure that was the best move we've made all evening," Retief said.
"But I suspect we'll know for sure very soon. Meanwhile, let's go take a
look."

A dim light
glowed from a point high above, shining down through the trees dotting the
steeply rising slope.

"Well,
whattaya know," Gloot said. "I thought the little runt was lying, but
here's his meditation parlor, just like he said."

"Why,
the very idea," Magnan whispered. "Ambassador Jith never mentioned
funding any R and R facilities in the hustings."

They emerged
onto a talus slope. From here they were able to make out the silhouette of a
cluster of towers rising from the crest of the peak. The lighted window went
dark; a moment later a glow sprang up at another.

"Apparently
Pilth doesn't do his thinking alone," Retief said.

"If the
place is full o' Terries," Gloot said, "what's supposed to keep 'em
from blasting us into Freebies before you can say 'oops'?"

"Nothing
much; accordingly, I recommend extreme stealth from this point on."

Twenty feet
higher, they encountered a flight of narrow steps cut into the stone. Retief
climbed over the handrail, which was beaded with moisture in the damp air, and
led the way upward, Gloot and Magnan close behind him. At a landing twenty feet
higher the steps took a right-angled turn. The drop below was vertical now; the
tops of trees rustled in the faint breeze. Far below a cluster of lanterns
moved on the shore. Far across the water, the lights of the capital floated on
blackness.

"Hey,
Retief," Gloot whispered, "I get dizzy when I get this high. I would
have told you sooner, only I never got this high before."

"Compared
with the roofs we were negotiating a few hours ago, this is nothing,"
Retief said.

Gloot
groaned. "Was that this year? It seems like something out of my early
youth. Never mind," he muttered. "The more I know, the less I like
it. I'm even beginning to get a funny feeling it was your idea and not mine to
grab you from Groaci HQ."

At the next
landing, by leaning far out over the rail to look up, Retief was able to see a
row of shuttered windows set in a squat, thick-walled structure of a bilious
ocher color. The building appeared to consist of several wings, set at slightly
different levels in accommodation to the contours of the rugged peak on which it
was built.

"Quite
a layout," Gloot started, and broke off as feet clacked above. A spindly
figure in a flaring helmet and a spined hip-cloak leaned over the railing of a
terrace, peering down the barrel of a blast-rifle with five alertly canted
oculars.

"Hssst!
To advance and give the password!" a thin voice whispered sibilantly.

"To
contain yourself in patience, hivemate of brood foul-ers," Retief
whispered sharply in Groaci. "To have had a brisk trot to report the
failure of the incompetent Nith! To require a moment in which to respire!"
He motioned to Gloot. "You go first," he whispered softly.
"Pretend to be scared."

"Pretend?"
The Lumbagan choked. "I'm petrified! But what the heck, I don't aim to
show the purple glimp feather. Here goes."

"The
impropriety of your nattering—and my curiosity as to whom you natter
with!" the Groaci peacekeeper hissed.

"The
prompt satisfaction of your curiosity," Retief called back, motioning
Gloot past. He followed up the final flight of steps. As the Lumbagan reached
the sentry's terrace, the latter hissed and swung the gun to cover him.

"The
impropriety of taking hasty action," Retief said sharply. The guard
swiveled a pair of eyes toward him, and uttered a faint Groaci yelp of dismay.

"A Soft
One—" he started, but his feeble cry was cut off abruptly by a smart rap
to the side of the jaw delivered by Gloot. Retief deftly caught the victim's
helmet as he collapsed.

Retief
quickly scouted the narrow gallery on which they now found themselves. From the
platform at the end, a complicated system of rods was visible atop a tower.

"Curious,"
Magnan whispered. "Trideo antennae here? I wasn't aware Lumbaga boasted
transmission facilities."

"I have
an idea the transmitter hasn't gone into full service yet," Retief said.
Further discussion was interrupted by a faint whop-whop-whop which grew swiftly
louder. A copter came sweeping in low over the treetops, made a sliding turn,
and came back to hover for a moment before settling gently to the roof of the
building. Before the rotors had stopped, the pilot—a small, thin-legged
individual wrapped in a black cloak and wearing a solar topi—hopped down and
disappeared into the shadows. A moment later, light shone from an opened hatch
in the roof, into which the new arrival descended, closing the panel behind
him.

"I
believe that was the same chap we just missed meeting back on Groo-groo,"
Retief said. "An omission I'd like to correct."

"Too
bad it's impossible," Magnan said crisply. "Still, if we hasten back
now, we may be able to see the ambassador and persuade him to request
departmental approval for authorizing an inquiry into the possibility of
considering the appointment of a committee to look into a proposal for asking
Jith some rather pointed questions."

"A
dynamic program, Mr. Magnan," Retief said. "But we might save a
little time by some judicious eavesdropping right here on the spot."

"Hmmm.
An interesting theoretical point. A pity we didn't bring snoop gear, but who
would have imagined any occasion for diplomatic activities this far from the
nearest cocktail party?"

"An
unfortunate oversight; but possibly we can rectify it by shinnying up the drain
pipe."

"Drat
it, Retief, I'm beginning to suspect that the hazards of being rescued by you
exceed those threatened by the kidnappers!"