Retief-Ambassador to Space Read Online Free PDF

report."
     
     "Mr.
Magnan went across the line into North Skweem, alone?" Retief inquired
casually.
     
     "I
believe that is where his Groacian Excellency is usually to be found,"
Treadwater replied testily, glancing at his finger watch. "And he was distinctly
directed to be back before tiffin time."
     
     "The
present crisis may have thrown off the tiffin schedule," Retief
conjectured.
     
     Treadwater
frowned ominously. "Are you suggesting the scoundrels may have so far
forgotten their protocol as to have detained an accredited diplomat in
the performance of his duty?"
     
      "Something seems to have detained him," Pluckwyn offered.
     
     "I
hope he didn't go sniffing too closely around the dam," the Political
Officer said soberly. "Those North Skweemans can be pretty nasty. I saw
some atrocity photos our visual aid people mocked-up, based on reliable
rumors—"
     
     "Oh,
boy." The Press Attache doddered to his feet. "This'll make great
copy, chief. 'TERRY ENVOY MURDERED ...' "
     
     "Who
said anything about murder, you cretin!" Treadwater roared. "I merely
noted that the man is late for Staff Meeting!"
     
     "Yes,
I suppose you're right." The Press Attache sat down reluctantly. Then he
brightened. "Still, if he hasn't shown up by sundown ..."He began
jotting notes on his scratch pad.
     
     "Well,
if there are no further follies with which to waste our time, that's all for
this morning, gentlemen," the Ambassador growled. "But I shall be
looking for results—prompt, dramatic results!" He swept the group with a
final expectant glare, moved ponderously down from the shaky platform.
     
     "Say,
Mr. Retief," the young Third Secretary came up beside him as they stepped
out into the hot, dusty sunlight. "What really is the difference
between North Skweemans and South Skweemans?"
     
     "Very
simple, Teddy. South Skweemans are natural democrats."
     
     "Oh
..." The youth fell back as Treadwater beckoned Retief over.
     
     "About
Magnan," the Ambassador said offhandedly. "It's occurred to me the
situation might bear looking into. Never can tell what these unprincipled
foreigners might take a fancy to perpetrate—not that I think Magnan is in any
difficulty, of course. But I've been thinking possibly we might just dispatch
someone to make sure."
     
     "Excellent
idea, sir," Retief agreed.
     
     "Actually,
I've been wondering whom I could spare long enough to attend to the
chore." Treadwater put a thoughtful finger to his chins.
     
     "Indeed,
sir?" Retief encouraged.
     
     "Frankly, your name popped into my mind."
     
     "Very
flattering, Mr. Ambassador. A pity you assigned me to do the liquor inventory.
Ottherwise I'd be delighted."
     
     "Never
mind the inventory—if you're sure you really feel you should go ..."
     
     "Well
..."
     
     "Very
well, then, if you insist. Though personally I think you young fellows spook
too easily. Well, I must hurry along, Retief. Let me hear from you." He
turned and strode away.
     
     "How'd
it go, Retief?" Uptakapacheenobufers called from his doorway.
     
     "Predictably,"
Retief said.
     
     
II
     
     The
once-purple and verdant countryside of Skweem was a wan, sun-baked expanse of
water-starved fields criss-crossed with the dusty gulleys of empty irrigation
ditches. Tinder-dry stalks of mudwheat stood in endless, arid rows across the
cracked, concrete-like clay.
     
     Retief
studied the view as he steered the official ground-car with the CDT pennant
flapping from the prow along the rocky road that paralleled the dry river bed,
where stranded boats rested high and dry, their formerly bright paint and
rigging as bleached and sere as the land. A few listless South Skweeman
peasants waved spiritless greetings from the shade of their huts as he passed.
Others merely stared with drooping visual organs.
     
     It
was an hour's drive to the heavy barbed-wire fence that marked the North
Skweeman border. Retief pulled to a stop at the gate. A large, warty North
Skweeman in