Retief and the PanGalactic Pageant of Pulchritude Read Online Free PDF

"No,
Ben," the Recording Secretary contradicted. "You said you'd clear
everything up."
                "Hardly,
Fester," Magnan rebuked the clerk. "I but predicted a happy
resolution of the affair, reposing full confidence in our chief, His Excellency
the Terran AE and MP."
                "Sure,
that's OK for you, Ben," Grossblunder said grumpily, "but I'm the
one's got to contend with Peaches, which I promised her she'd be the toast of
the Eastern Arm. She's a demanding broad," he added, "and right now
she's demanding my hide."
                "Say,
there's a Terry Mission over at Furthuron, only about six lights in-Arm,"
Colonel Underknuckle offered. "They prolly got a couple snazzy secretaries
over there could stand in for this Ripetree dame if she's too shy to show. No
pun intended, fellas."
                "I
think, Colonel, it might be difficult to explain that the Terran entrant had
suddenly become twins," Grossblunder objected. "Even if, as I must
assume, you have overnight developed a method of instanteous transfer of
personnel."
                "Now,
nothing like that," the Attache objected, "I just thought—"
                "
'Didn't think' might perhaps better describe your cerebral activity,
Harvey," His Ex countered. "Now, back to your duties, gentlemen: we
still have a few hours of daylight in which to come up with a solution which
will doubtless go down in Corps history." He rose and left the room,
attended by a cluster of his more image-conscious underlings, all talking at
once. Retief slipped out by a side door and hurried away.
     

5
                After
dropping by the mess hall for a sandwich made from a slice of succulent haunch
of frozen blurb-beast, Retief descended again to the rocky plateau, now nearly
deserted, only a few discarded gribble-grub bags blowing in the hot wind to
suggest that a crowd had dispersed only moments before. The featureless expanse
of pinkish rock stretched away in all directions to a dark line of distant
verdure. After ten minutes' brisk walk, Retief looked back: the visiting ships,
some squat, some slender needles, had shrunk to insignificance. Ahead lay only
more of the sun-baked terrain. He went on, scanning bare rock for a glimpse of
Gertrude's sinuous form. Then, far ahead, Yong strolled into view from the
shelter of a clump of tumbled rocks. Retief angled off to intercept the local
cop, who changed course to meet him.
                "You
got any idear where she would of went?" Yong called. Retief shook his
head. "Unless there's a patch of jungle not too far away," he
suggested. "Gertie's used to dense vegetation."
                Yong
waved a front paw. "Sure," he said. "Right past the ridge
yonder. This here's the only patch of desert this side o' the ocean. Government
big shots didn't want to waste any useful real estate on a bunch of foreigners.
Them Glorb are a bunch of small-timers, got no feel for public relations."
                "You're
critical of your government?" Retief commented idly.
                "Not my gubment," Yong objected. "I ain't no Glorb. What I am, I'm
a Vang," he declared with vehemence. "See, there's a number of
mentational species evolved on Boondock. We used to eat 'em, yunnerstan', then
the Groaci come along and set up the Glorbs in business as top dogs. Coulda
wiped us out with them borrowed power guns, I guess, but these here
Groaci—they're foreigners, like you. Well, not exactly like you, maybe worse.
But they come along and stuck their snoots in. We hadda go along. They had all
kinds o' zap-guns, yunnerstan'. But old King Zup the Sagacious, he sold 'em on
a deal where we'd handle the rough stuff—army and all—and do cop duty. So now
we coexist." Yong settled on his haunches and used a formidably taloned
hind leg to dislodge a small parasite from behind an ear.
                "Damn
yutz-bugs," he commented. "Desert's full of 'em.