Retief and the Rascals Read Online Free PDF Page B

break with tradition so grossly, without suffering grave internal
distress, which might almost—almost, I say—impel one to take umbrage at the
grosser incivilities offered one." He paused to thrust out a foot to hook
the oversized brogan of the second-string politico who had tripped him,
precipitating that worthy face first into one of the few remaining platinum serving-bowls.
     
                "Oops," he said casually. "Don't
count that one, Jim." As the local thug wiped cheese dip from his eyes,
the Terrans departed.
     
     

Chapter Two
     
                Leaving the festive banquet hall, the two
diplomats stepped out into the Easiest Way, and turned toward the better-lit
sections across the open sewer known as the Glue Danube, partly for its
consistency and partly for its aroma of rendered animal carcasses.
     
                As they approached the bonded warehouse, a lone
figure, tall and long-armed, separated itself from a stone pier and stepped out
into their path.
     
                "Retief!" Magnan gasped. "That
fellow—I have a feeling ...!"
     
                "Just carry on, Ben," Retief advised.
As they came closer they could see that the fellow facing them had the
slime-greenish pigmentation associated with the high-ranking Bloorian
Unspeakable tribe. The big fellow was standing loosely, his arms slightly
spread, blocking the way.
     
            "Goodness, not
again!" Magnan choked.
     
                At ten feet, Retief stopped and spoke casually
to Magnan. "Do you want this one, Mr. Magnan, or may I have him?"
     
                "Why, you go right ahead," Magnan
blurted. "One doesn't like to hog all the fun."
     
                The tall Unspeakable fixed his gaze on Magnan
and opened his mouth as if about to speak, but Retief took a quick step and
snap-kicked him just below the left kneecap; the injured leg buckled, and the
mugger fell forward with a yell. His jaw accidentally intersected Retief's
knuckles with a discouraging sound between crunch! and splat! His
face impacted the oily cobbles and his left leg kicked once before he became
utterly still.
     
            "Gracious!"
Magnan yelped. "You've killed him!"
     
                " 'Fraid not," Retief countered, and
gave the fellow a light kick in the ribs.
     
                At once the downed Bloorian's hand shot out, the
foot-long knife in its grasp missing Retief's ankle by half an inch. Magnan
stamped hard on the big-knuckled grasping member and exclaimed, "Why, the
sneaky rogue! He'd have waited until we passed, then jumped up and assaulted us
from behind! He stamped on the knife hand again and caught up the weapon.
     
                "Nix, pal," a gravelly voice issued
from the cobble-dented mouth. The fellow wiped a hand across his face and sat
up. He then extended the snot-and-blood-smeared hand to Magnan.
     
            "Gimme a hand up,
chum," he ordered.
     
                "Au contraire, " Magnan told the
dazed local sternly. "If you attempt to rise, I shall be forced to fell
you yet again." Suddenly changing targets, he blurted, Retief! Where's the
car? I distinctly told Ralphie to wait close by!"
     
                "I heard," Retief told him. "I
suppose by now the limousine is in the nearest chop-shop."
     
                "What about Ralph?"
     
                "Oh, Mr. Magnan!" Ralph's voice came
from the gutter ahead. "Sir," he went on, "I was just sitting
quietly looking at my komix, when some ruffian reached in and dragged me right
out through the window! Then they took the car, and ... and—"
     
                "Never mind, Ralphie," Magnan
encouraged the battered, barely recognizable rag-clad figure who tottered
toward him from the shadows. "We can requisition a new limo. And I shall
get off a sharp Note to His Ferocity, protesting the incident."