Retief and the PanGalactic Pageant of Pulchritude Read Online Free PDF Page A

sir?"
                "Ben,"
the Ambassador said sadly, "to dream of outstanding ER's at this point is
visionary in the extreme, I should say." He jotted a note on his
traditional yellow legal pad with one of the needle-sharp 2H pencils provided
according to immemorial custom, snapping the point off short.
                "Damn!"
he snapped, tossing the offending instrument to the floor whence it was rescued
and reverently replaced by young Marvin Lacklustre.
                "Don't
know why the Corps can't provide a decent electro-stylus instead of these
damned charred sticks," he muttered, glaring along the table for signs of
disapproval.
                "Oh,
I agree, sir," Magnan warbled as the icy glance seemed to hesitate for a
moment on him.
                "
'Critical of Corps policy'," Grossblunder scribbled, snapping off a second
needle-point. "But enough of these trifles," he decreed heavily.
"Boys, we got to field a winner, pronto, and without giving Peaches
chilblains, nor providing Thif with ammo for another smear."
                "Why,
Mr. Ambassador," Marvin offered eagerly, "why don't we just admit
it's impossible, get off a dispatch to Sector so they won't find out from the
morning pictonews, and get the heck out of this crummy place?"
                "That
will be enough out of you, Lacklustre," his Chief commanded almost
quietly. "You're junior, remember, Marv, very junior, and your best
strategy is to keep quiet and listen while your betters wrestle with the
profound problems that beset the Galaxy."
                "I
don't see how Peaches showing her rump is so Galaxy-shaking," Marvin
muttered under his breath, only partially drowned out by the simultaneous
throat-clearing of three adjacent senior bureaucrats instinctively closing
ranks to protect the young. Grossblunder looked startled, then shook his head
dismissingly.
                "Couldn't
have done," he mumbled, then turned his 429-2 (Benign Paternalism, Sorely
Tried) on Marvin.
                "Any
indiscretion uttered at this time under the stress of the moment will be
overlooked, gentlemen," he intoned, adding, "you're lucky, Marvin,
this time. See that you don't misinterpret charity as weakness."
                "I've
got an idea," Nat Sitzfleisch of the Econ Section spoke up briskly.
"Suppose we wrap Peachy in bandages and claim she's got a skin condition
that's highly contagious. That'll give 'em something to think about."
                "Right,
for about a zillioneth of a second," his Excellency replied sardonically,
"then Thif will come up with his leader: 'Terries Impose Typhoid Mary on
Galactic Beauties'."
                "Heck,
half of 'em don't even have skin," Nat muttered to himself. "With
that oversized molluscoid babe from Yirg 19 and all them chitinous critters
from you-name-it, and all the other ones with feathers and scales and
all."
                "It
is precisely the other half which will raise the cry of contagion,
Nat," Grossblunder pointed out, almost kindly.
                "Don't
be concerned, Mr Ambassador," Magnan counselled dramatically. "I can
assure Your Excellency that the matter will be resolved to the complete
satisfaction of all."
                Retief
leaned closer to his supervisor to comment. "Too bad we don't know where
Gertie is, eh, Mr. Magnan? Maybe I'd better go look for her."
                "Not
now," Magnan hissed. "Later, after Staff Meeting!"
                "Ben,"
the Ambassador cut in, eyeing Magnan with a look as reassuring as an impending
ice avalanche. "When you've concluded your chat, perhaps you'd return your
attention to the problem you so lightly dismissed a moment ago."
                "I
didn't exactly dismiss it, sir," Magnan cried. "I only said I'm sure
you'll resolve the matter satisfactorily, as usual."