Retief and the Rascals (10 page)

            "Not a word," Magnan vowed. "I
was firm with the scamp. I warned him of the response of Enlightened Galactic
Opinion when his gross violation of diplomatic privilege is reported. I can
hardly wait to give
Hy
the details!"

            "No doubt you gave him a bad scare,"
Retief admitted. "But—"

            "Hark!" Magnan cut him off. "I
hear—yes, they're coming back! If Dit finds me free, and his rack vandalized,
he'll—"

            "Let's get out of here, Ben," Retief
suggested, and helped his direct supervisor down from the
blood-and-sweat-stained torture device.

            Magnan resisted. "Perhaps if we stayed, and
offered suitable apologies for the damage," he babbled, but Retief hauled
him toward the exit. "Rather than scuttling away like a thief, if I should
confront him coolly and offer to pay for the damage ..." Magnan proposed.

            "He had this thing set on
'auto-stretch'," Retief told Magnan, indicating the control panel.
"In half an hour your arms would have been as disjointed as oven-baked
turkey-wings."

            Magnan braced his feet and struggled against
Retief's viselike grip.

        
"Mister
Retief!"
Magnan grated. "Release me! At once! This is kidnapping under Section
eight of the Code! I refuse to flee!"

            "He must have an improved model
brain-laundry," Retief offered, "to get you conditioned this
fast." Feet could be heard approaching now.

            "I was offered no indignity," Magnan
purred. "His Ferocity pointed out certain disjunctures in my view of
affairs, and of course I leaped at the opportunity to rectify them. Now kindly
unhand me and permit me to compose myself in preparation for continuing
negotiations!"

            Forget it, sir," Retief grunted. He eased
the door aside, picked Magnan up bodily, and started through, but Magnan spread
his arms and legs, forcing Retief to pause and tuck those members close to
Magnan's centerline.

            Magnan yelled, "Help! I'm being savaged! I
call on you, Wim, for succor! Hurry!"

            Two extra-large Bloorian Unspeakables lunged
into the room, crater-guns leveled.

            "Don't shoot, pray," Magnan yelped,
threshing hard in Retief's grip. One of the bodyguards fired, scoring a gouge
in the rocks and spattering Retief's left arm. Released, Magnan scurried past
the two gunners and encountered the burly Chief Inquisitor, emerging from the
side doorway with two bodyguards.

            "Oh, Your Ferocity," Magnan warbled,
"there's been a trifling misunderstanding. Mr. Retief was under the
impression, that is, he leaped to the conclusion that—" As he chattered
on, Magnan was maneuvering to place himself so as to block the view of the cut
straps on the rack. Wim brushed him aside and came to an abrupt halt.

            "Looky, fellas," he addressed his
henchmen. "Vandalism! See what Ben Magnan done to my brand-new Model Y
with embellishments! A deluxe job it was, too, Ben!" He turned to look
vengefully at Magnan.

            "You di'n't hafta savage duh machine dataway,
which I was onney tryna show youse duh class equipment I got, to help
straighten out some enemies o duh state which dey got wrong idears! Look at dem
straps! Cut clean t'rough! Finest tump-leather, too. I'm putting in fer
compensation, Ben! You're gonna wisht youse never come pokin' in here like you
done. Boys, take old Retief out inna courtyard and shoot him a few times. As
fer you, Ben Magnan, I'm havin' you up before His Terran Ex! It's t'ree inna
morning! You oughta be ashame', Ben!"

            Oh, I am, Mr. Dit, I am!" Magnan declared.
"Why don't we just have me pay for the damage and forget the whole
thing?"

            "I guess you forgot," Wim came back
heavily. "I done retained Skinnerback and Milkerdown, P.A., the finest
shysters this side o' Groac, to handle my claims against you Terries! They'll
tear your Tupp, Futter, and Swive apart inna courtroom!"

            "Not that, please!" Magnan begged.
"A firm of Terran lawyers prosecuting the Embassy of Terra; it just won't
do! Though I confess I'm surprised that even those knaves would consent to take
such a case in the first place!"

            "Dey di'n't take it inna first place,"
Wim objected. "I hadda appeal to deir better natures and all. Hadda up the
ante to ten percent o' duh take! Some crooks, dem legal beagles!"

            "To be sure," Magnan murmured.
"But why not save exorbitant legal fees all around. Just tell Bobow
Skinnerback to drop the case, and I shall inform Tupp, Futter and Swive of the
same. We can clear this up right here, man-to-man! What do you say, Wim?"

            "I say duh CDT can pay off a bigger
settlement dan a lousy CDTO-l! So it's on to duh lists and duh devil take duh
hindmost!"

            "Do leave me alone, Retief!" Magnan
snapped as the latter urged him toward the escape-hole. "Pray don't
interfere in the negotiation, which is at a critical point just now! If I can
get Wim to drop his case ..."

            "They'll be around here blocking the exit
any second now, Retief told Magnan. I can hear them already." He turned
away from Magnan for a moment to step inside the escape passage and immediately
felled an advancing Unthinkable with a straight right.

            Magnan heard the
splat!
and yelped at
Retief: "Jim! You'll spoil the rapport I've established with His Ferocity!
Now, come back here and observe! You'll get a valuable lesson in chumship
techniques!"

            After grabbing another advancing local and
throwing him at those behind him, Retief went back to Magnan. "Not much
time left, Ben," he told his chief. "We can make it out of here
before we're sealed up, if we move fast."

            "You're
not
paying attention!"
Magnan wailed. "I've no wish to depart before completing my conference
with Wim Dit." He turned again to the towering Unspeakable. "Just
consider: all the GFU grant funds will be yours, if nothing happens to upset
Bloor's Most Favored Planet status, plus,
plus,
I say, whatever else you
can think of. You'll be hailed as the savior of Bloor! Enlightened Galactic
Opinion will come over to you in a body, and
then
you can sue in a Court
of Inequity and recover damages that will astound even Freddy Milkerdown! What
do you say, eh, Wim?"

            "Come on, Mr. Magnan," Retief urged in
his ear. "It's now or never." He tugged at Magnan's arm.

            Magnan let himself go limp and crumpled to the
floor. "Dammit, Jim!" he chirped. "I'm
not
going to
abandon my greatest opportunity to make big points with His Ex! What a coup!
Lowly
Econ Officer Pulls Ambassador's Chestnuts Out of Fire, Single-handed!"
Magnan
quoted ecstatically. "Doubtless, Hy will receive a promo for the scoop I
shall give him, a favor he'll remember the next time he's tempted to assume a
critical attitude toward me, and I ... I scarcely know what else to anticipate,
Jim! It boggles the mind!"

            Magnan broke off the catalog of dreams and
resumed his objections as Retief picked him up and headed through the exit,
slamming through the vanguard of an advancing platoon of local enforcers.
Magnan grabbed the sides of the doorway with both hands, only to lose his grip
as Retief forged ahead, knocking down Unthinkables left and right. Then a heavy
steel door slammed in his face. He dropped Magnan, who at once turned to resume
his conversation with Wim Dit, who was trailing behind.

            "Pray overlook this seeming disorder,
sir!" Magnan caroled "I'm sure Mr. Retief didn't realize—"

            "Don' matter what Jim don' realize,"
Wim cut him off. "Grab Ben, fellers," he added in an aside. The
Enforcer sergeant standing beside him bleeding from a split lip started to
complain, but a blow on the ear from Wim reminded him of his duty. He made a
grab for Magnan, who ducked aside.

            "Dear me, Mr. Dit," Magnan appealed to
Wim. "Pray don't allow any unfortunate breach of diplomatic privilege to
mar our nice beginning—"

            "Jeez," the cop muttered to his chief.
"If dis pansy t'inks getting croaked in a torture chamber in dun middle o'
duh night is 'nice', maybe we oughta tink dis over!"

            "You Imbeciles can leave us Dull Normals do
duh t'inkin'!" Wim rebuked, with a hearty buffet to emphasize the command.

            As the chastised fellow muttered rebelliously,
Wim swatted him again. "Smig! You get to duh rear o' duh column!" he
ordered. The reorganization produced general confusion, as the hired thugs
maneuvered aggressively to secure a position nearer the front rank and thus
closer to whatever loot might be forthcoming.

            "Aw right!" Wim bawled. "I can
see youse got no team spirit, maneuvering to get in on duh goods and all. I'll
see to a equitable distribution: half to me, and youse can fight over duh odder
half amongst yerselfs!"

            During the altercation Magnan had pulled free of
Wim's grip and darted back into the side passage. He halted in dismay, staring
around at the cul-de-sac.

            "Go back, Ben," Retief urged. "I
think Wim will come to his senses and escort you to safety.
I'd
better
stay out of his sight, or I'll remind him he's declared a private war on
Terries."

            Abruptly, Ambassador Shinth arrived via yet
another entry, "If you insist," Magnan agreed reluctantly, ignoring
Shinth. "But what about you, Jim? How will you manage until I can find my
way back with a few Marines?"

            "That will require some thought, Ben,"
Retief acknowledged, urging Magnan back through the archway to confront Wim and
his yelling cohorts. "Try not to make any really disastrous concessions,
if you don't mind."

            "I'll show the scamp he can't—" Magnan
began, but wilted as Shinth hissed in his face:

            "To have you now, Ben! Free at last of the
silly restraints of your Terry-imposed diplomatic niceties! Now we shall see
who controls the action at this end of the Cluster!"

            "Shinth!" Magnan choked. "Am I to
understand by your remarks that a Chief of Mission of proud Groac would indeed
stoop to connive with the underworld to rob the Terran Mission, for mere
financial profit?"

            "Nope, Ben," Shinth confided
earnestly. "To be the endangered species itself where the bug guck are.
There's the flink hides, of course, and the voop horn— aphrodisiac, you know; real
big in the Southern Arm. And lots more—all the stuff you Terries are wasting,
trying to stop the natural course of nature. Extinction happens, Ben! Us
Groacians face it and make a nice income from it. To be reasonable, Ben: I
could even see my way to cut you in personal on the take; that's on top of old
Swiney's percentage. The glutton! He insisted on ten points! Can you imagine,
the nerve!" As he harangued Magnan, Shinth's less-than-flawless Terran
deteriorated rapidly.

            "What?" Magnan yelled. "Unhand
me, sir!" He kicked Shinth in his vulnerable shin, eliciting a hiss of
pain, in spite of the sequined greaves symbolically protecting that member.
"You dare to attempt to bribe a Counselor of Embassy for GFU
Affairs?"

            "To be sure, Ben," Shinth soothed, while
still hopping on one spindle-shank.

            Then Wim Dit spoke up: "To be pertecking
yer innerest, OK. By the bye, I heard about the promo, Ben. Congrats! Next
thing you know it'll be Mr. Ambassador Magnan!"

            "Not if I'm caught discussing His Ex's cut
of the bootleg flink-hide trade!" Magnan pointed out, and bolted.

            "That's telling him, Ben!" Retief
called over the heads of the half-dozen assorted thugs crowding around the
entrance to the cul-de-sac. "Run for it, Ben!" Retief cried.

            Magnan fled into the darkness, three of the
Bloorians baying at his heels. Retief gave chase. He overtook and tripped Gugly
Eye, a loafer he'd often seen hanging around the motor pool. Eye was the last
in line. Retief moved up to grab Jum Derk by the collar and dump him sideways.
Jumping over the still rolling Unspeakable, he overtook the front-runner and
knocked him down, Wim's bellow and Shinth's faint voice shouting behind him.
Retief called to Magnan, was ignored, and followed his fleeing supervisor along
the echoing corridor.

            "That did it!" Shinth hissed. "To
close the passage, Wim!" Retief skidded to a halt and charged back toward
the Groaci and his hirelings, but the Bloorian strong-arm squad had already
rolled an immense, rail-mounted steel slab in place, sealing off the passage.

            Magnan, noticing nothing, continued to flee,
unpursued. He reached a narrowing in the passage, where a great bool-wood door
stood half-open. He grabbed it in passing and slammed it, in Retief's face. The
latch
clack!
ed
decisively. Retief skidded to a halt and tried the
knob. It was fixed as solidly as the wall of living stone beside him. Before he
could move, an explosion threw him back against the opposite wall and down into
a pit that seemed bottomless.