Retief and the PanGalactic Pageant of Pulchritude (32 page)

"You
wouldn't!" Pouncetrifle gasped.

"See
here, Ussh," Ambassador Jith whispered. "You don't actually mean to
commit violence on the persons of the Terrans, I trust? To deport them in
restraining fetters, yes. But I forbid you to do away with them entirely."

"It
will be our little secret, Your Excellency," Ussh cut in curtly. "His
Imperial Highness has matters under complete control."

"Are
you quite certain of that?" Jith asked, eyeing the presumptive ruler, who
now stood swaying slightly, gazing into the middle distance. "Candidly, he
presents the appearance of an unsuccessful lobotomy case."

"Why
not tell him the rest of the secrets, Ussh?" Retief said. "Let him
know how clever you really are. Describe your discovery of a sure-fire method
for assembling Lumbagans to order, according to any genetic code desired. Tell
him about your experiments, which produced some rather unusual types, some of
whom proved useful for special purposes, such as terrorizing the populace.
Describe your soldier farm, and let him in on the secret of the lab on Sprook
where you worked out the details of your hostility transmitter—"

"Silence,
spy!" Ussh shouted.

"Don't
be modest," Retief urged. "Give the ambassador full details on how
you plan to manufacture a few million soldiers, modeled after himself and
equipped by Groac, and use them to set up a modest empire in this end of the
Arm, after which you'll no doubt establish ranches on all the likely planets to
raise spares for the army. With forced feeding, you can produce a fully
equipped infantryman in a little under three weeks, gun and all—"

"Ha
ha," Ussh said. "You
will
have your little jest, eh? Gallows
humor, I believe it's called."

"You
made your big mistake, of course, Ussh, when you let Suash and his boys
leave," Retief said. "He was your only chance to make it stick—"

"So you
imagine!" Ussh spun to face Jith. "The time has come for the carrying
out of His Highness' commands! If you would like to do the job personally it
would be a gracious touch, in keeping with the close relations existing between
Lumbaga and Groac!"

"Wouldn't
it though?" Retief said. "If you could con Ambassador Jith into
committing himself to the murder of a covey of Terries, he'd have no choice but
to back your play. Fortunately, he won't be so foolish—"

"You
think not!" Ussh snarled. "Jith—order them shot—now!"

"Don't
you dare, Jith!" Pouncetrifle yelped. "I absolutely forbid it!"

"Forbid,
you say?" Jith whispered. "You go too far, Harvey—" The Groaci
ambassador faced Ussh. "If you're quite sure the Terrans planned the
murder of His Highness, it of course becomes my duty to—"

"To
listen to the rest of the story," Retief said. "There are a couple
more things Ussh forgot to mention—"

"Details,
details!" Ussh yelled. "The important fact is that I, at the head of
an army of dedicated troops, will lead the way to the conquest of vast new
territories, eliminating or enslaving inferior peoples along the way, and in
the end organizing the entire Galaxy as a single empire under a single
rule!"

"A
glowing picture," Retief said. "But of course Ambassador Jith has no
reason to lend support to the scheme."

"Have I
not, Mr. Retief?" Jith whispered. "I admit Swarm-master Ussh has
employed unorthodox methods—but if the end result is a Galactic Empire under
Groac—"

"Correction,
Mr. Ambassador. Groac will be among the first victims."

"Victim?
Of her own troops, under her own general Ussh? Preposterous!"

"It's true
Ussh and his army will be in position to cut quite a swath, with Groaci backing
and Groaci materiel. And no doubt in the end the CDT would come to what's known
as an accommodation with the
de facto
situation. But you're forgetting
an important datum. The troops who'll be doing the conquering won't be Groaci;
they'll be Lumbagans, no matter how many eyes they happen to have."

"Well—as
to that," Jith stalled, looking to Ussh for counsel. "I assume that
as honorary Groaci, true to their exalted somatype, we may rely on General Ussh
to keep the interests of his motherworld in the forefront of his mind."

"Exactly,"
Retief said. "And his motherworld is Lumbaga."

"Clearly,
he's taken leave of his senses," Ussh grated.

"Granted,
he's a most unusual Lumbagan," Retief went on. "Normally, once an
accretion of Freebies reaches the four-decker stage—at which point intelligence
appears—their finer sensibilities prevent them from carrying evolution any
farther. But it appears that General Ussh broke the taboo."

"What vile
allegation is this?" Ussh yelled.

"Careful,
Ussh, you'll give yourself away," Retief said. "It doesn't seem vile
to anybody but a Lumbagan."

"This
is all nonsense, of course," Ambassador Jith purred. "But out of
curiosity—go on, Mr. Retief."

"Ussh—or
whoever the original Lumbagan personality was who had the idea—overcame his
scruples and integrated himself with another individual—possibly a Trip; a
subintelligent creature, but of course the combination has capabilities that
exceed those of either of the original components. Unfortunately, he used his
enhanced mental powers to concoct a scheme to take over first Lumbaga, then the
rest of the material universe. Naturally, he needed help; he made a study of
the foreigners present on his world, and picked the Groaci as the likeliest
partners. With his abilities, it wasn't hard to readjust his external
appearance to match yours, Mr. Ambassador—"

"He's
raving!" Ussh yelled. "How could anyone possibly—"

"It
wasn't easy, at first—but you figured it out. Some of your practice models are
still running around in the woods, making Groaci tracks to confuse the trail.
But in the end you were able to palm yourself off on a few malcontents as a
Groacian VHPP, and enlist some behind-the-scenes help in setting things up for
your coup—"

"That,
Terry, is your final error!" Ussh grated, and aimed the gun at Retief's
ribs.

"Ussh!
Control yourself!" Jith keened. "What simpler than to give the lie to
this fantastic allegation!"

"Is
it?" Retief said. "Ussh, deny you're a Lumbagan—but do it in Groaci,
just to be certain your fellow countrybeings don't miss any of the finer
nuances."

"Bah!
Prepare to die, witless Terran!"

"Ussh!
If you expect my aid and support—do as he says!" Jith hissed.

Ussh
hesitated, then turned to include the Groaci delegation in his field of fire.
"Think what you like, Jith! You'll do as I bid, or die with the Terrans!
I'll explain to your successor how you and they slaughtered each other, only
myself surviving; then I'll enlist his support and on to empire!"

"Why-why,
Retief's right," Pouncetrifle gasped. "Jith—he won't speak
Groaci—because he can't! He's an impostor!"

"Duped!"
Jith wailed. "Undone by my credulity! Faked out of position and into
unwitting support of a non-Groaci conquest by an underling, and a bogus one at
that!"

"Don't
feel too badly," Retief said. "He only intended to use you Groaci to
finance his first few local take-overs. As soon as he'd consolidated his gains,
Groac would have been quietly consolidated into his empire, with the help of a
number of pseudo-Groaci agents who would have infiltrated Groac by then."

"Rave
on, Retief!" Ussh invited. "Familiarize these fools with the scope of
their folly—and then—" Ussh whirled as the tall double doors burst wide.
Lucael strode forward, his golden eyes gleaming.

"Yes?
What is it?" Ussh barked uncertainly. "You have dispatches from the
field? Or—" He staggered suddenly, as if struck a heavy blow between the
eyes.

"Treachery!"
Ussh gasped—and Lucael stopped in his tracks, stood swaying. Face to face the
two super-Lumbagans stood, locked in mortal—though invisible—conflict.

"Ussh!"
Retief called. The imitation Groaci half-turned—and in the momentary
distraction, Lucael struck. Ussh gave a hoarse cry, stood dithering for a
moment. . . .

Like a tree
struck by lightning, the false Groaci's body shivered and split. For a moment
there was a wild scramble of parts as the former superbeing's components, like
a mob of troops falling in on command, regrouped themselves into two separate
entities, arms and legs and ears scuttling for their assigned places. In a
moment, two short, sullen individuals stood where Ussh had been, staring
apprehensively around at their astounded audience.

"Why—it's
Difnog and Gnudf, the Lumbagan observers!" Pouncetrifle gasped.

"And
apparently," Jith whispered, "they were more observant than we
suspected!"

It was half
an hour later. The Terran diplomats, freed of their shackles, had gone into a
huddle with their Groaci colleagues for an impromptu meeting.

"Well,
then," Ambassador Pouncetrifle said crisply, "since General Ussh
seems to have opted for a return to civilian life, and His Highness is
permanently catatonic, it appears we're left with the administrative problem of
setting up a pro tern housekeeping government. As Terran emissary, I'll
reluctantly assume the chief role in affairs—"

"Hardly,
my dear Harvey," Jith interjected. "Inasmuch as the present
contretemps was produced in part by Groacian efforts—"

"Pseudo-Groacian
efforts, need I remind you!"

"A mere
quibble, Mr. Ambassador. Groac will undertake to set up a caretaker government,
with the assistance of Colonel Suash and his native constabulary—"

"Gentlemen,"
Retief said. "Aren't you forgetting the Emperor?"

"Eh?"

"What's
that?" Both plenipotentiaries turned to survey the imperial figurehead,
who stood erect now, gazing sternly at the assembled foreigners.

"You
need not trouble yourselves, gentlebeings," he said curtly. "I'll
handle the government of Lumbaga—to the extent that Lumbaga needs
governing." He turned, stepped up on the dais, and seated himself on the
throne.

"Item
number one," he said impressively. "Any foreigner found meddling in
Lumbagan affairs will be shipped home in a plain wrapper. Item number
two—"

"If we
could go back for a moment to item one, Your Highness—"

"Make
that 'Majesty,' Pouncetrifle. I've just assumed Imperial dignities for the
duration of the emergency."

"To be
sure, Your Majesty. I'm certain that on reflection you'll want to rescind the
restriction on Terran participation in Lumbagan national life, inasmuch as, as
worded, it would tend to somewhat restrict the free play of diplomacy—"

"Precisely.
Item number two: Since that government governs best which governs least, I
intend to provide only the best for my people. Accordingly, all laws are
declared illegal, including this one."

"Hmm,"
Pouncetrifle mused, "since His Majesty seems clearly to be non compos mentis,
Jith, it's clear that duty requires that responsible authorities step in, in
the interest of the welfare of the Lumbagan people. I trust you're with
me?"

"Assuredly,
Harvey," Jith whispered. "I suggest we find quieter quarters for His
Majesty; possibly space could be found in the former root cellar—whilst you and
I proceed to arrange matters in consonance with the principle of the greatest
good for the greatest number; and inasmuch as we Groaci breed like flies, I
suppose you'll concede the obvious primacy of Groaci interests."

"No
need for dispute," the emperor cut in decisively. "Inasmuch as
neither of you will have anything to say about Lumbagan affairs from now
on."

"He's
raving," Pouncetrifle stated flatly. "Jith, I call you to witness
that His Majesty was babbling incoherently at the time I was forced to have him
restrained. Retief—assist the poor fellow down from his chair. . . ."

"Curious
acoustics in this room," Retief said blandly. "I thought for a moment
Your Excellency was proposing that we lay hands on a foreign Chief of
State."

"Mutiny,
eh?" Colonel Warbutton barked. "Well, fortunately for democracy, I'm
here to carry out the wishes of the people as interpreted by regs and expressed
via appropriate channels!" He advanced on the throne. Ten feet from it, he
found himself floating an inch off the floor, his feet paddling vigorously. A
brace of underlings sprang to his side, found themselves adrift, rising lightly
as balloons toward the ceiling. Pouncetrifle uttered a bellow as he floated up from
the floor, followed by Magnan and the rest of the staff. Jith uttered a faint
cry and drifted upward, attended by his staff. Only Retief and Lucael remained
on their feet.

"Now
that you've heard the details of the new constitution," the emperor advised
the levitating bureaucrats, "I declare the audience to be at an end. Don't
bother backing from the presence; just disappear."

At his
words, there were a series of sharp
plops
, as air imploded to fill the
vacancies created by the suddenly absent dignitaries.