Retief and the Rascals Read Online Free PDF Page A

electorate.
And maybe thunderjugs will remind them not to crap on the carpets."
     
                "A radical notion, Jim," Magnan
carped. "After all, we've His Excellency's very own guidance in the
matter. Tomorrow the Platinum halo, with bladder, will be handed to Wim
Dit, elevating him to the pantheon of the Arm's great Liberators, thus changing
forever the role of Bloor in interplanetary affairs! Their fleets will be
converted to pleasure boats to accommodate the hordes of holiday-makers
flocking here to the newest tourist attraction in six lights! The annual
revenues from landing tax alone will exceed the sums extorted by Wim's
protection rackets over the past decade! Can we allow all this to be lost
merely because of a trifling misunderstanding?"
     
                "What's to misunderstand?" Wim
demanded. "Duh mug hit me, and stabbed me, too." He displayed a
purple-stained fingertip in proof of the latter charge. "I guess I got a
right to some reparations, eh? How about a private pleasure-planetoid like duh
one I see about onna tube, you CDT boys built fer dat Yub duh Unspeakable over
Hangdog Tree, he shun't invade no more like inoffensive smaller powers an'
all?"
     
                "Forget it," Swinepearl suggested
crisply. "After all, Your Ferocity," His Ex continued from his
throne, "you haven't yet run up a record of murder and pillage to qualify
for the same league with Yub! You'll be lucky if I let you have a
six-hundred-bed funhouse, including six hundred prime broads (local, of
course)!"
     
                "Nix," Wim dismissed the offer.
"I get tired o' duh same o' hoors. Let's have some new hookers, fresh in
from Terra. I'll see about staging a few raids to like beef up duh old
rep."
     
                "Heavens!" Magnan murmured to Retief
as the two resumed their chairs at the festive board. "One less
sophisticated than ourselves might almost receive the impression His Excellency
was encouraging pillage and rapine."
     
                "Hey, Ben," Hy Felix called in the
near-silence which followed the exchange. "How's this sound?
     
                Terry A.E. and M.P. Offers Reward to Local
Hoodlum to Encourage Increase in,' uh—"
     
            "Pillage and
Rapine," Wim suggested.
     
                "That's it!" Hy exulted. "There's
a lead that'll stir up the City Room back at Sector!"
     
                "Don't you dare, Hyman!" Magnan
barked. "You know very well it was merely an unfortunate turn of phrase!
Why, His Ferocity would never dream of taking it literally!"
     
                "Say, Ben," Wim interrupted, giving
Magnan a rib-cracking nudge with his elbow. "Did I get that right? Old
Swinepearl is offering me six hunnert Terry hoors if I step up duh old pillage
and rapine, right?
     
                "Hardly! Magnan rejected the idea
indignantly. "He only meant—I mean, he meant Corps funds can hardly be
expended to rid the Galaxy of a plague too minor to have captured the attention
of Enlightened Galactic Opinion! It's merely a matter of proper PR. You've done
enough! Be reasonable, Wim! Magnan's voice faded with his realization of the
futility of his efforts. "One can hardly expect the public to condone the
award of Class One perks to a mere neophyte in the world of planetary
rape!" he argued, reasonably enough. "It would mean upgrading the
entire schedule of Goodies, at fantastic cost to the electorate!
Actually," he continued more confidently to Wim Dit, "you people
barely qualify as Undesirable under the charter of GFU! Indeed, I note that
among the epithets you people have applied to each other, 'Undesirables', while
appropriate, is notable by its absence! Let well enough alone! GFU will provide
a modest funhouse with banquet synthesizer at the least, and possibly an
Imperial model comfort station, just like His Excellency's!"
     
                "Modest is fer loosers," Wim Dit
grunted.