Retief at Large Read Online Free PDF

people were a little unhappy with me.
It seems I'm not ready for important assignments at Departmental level. I was
shipped off here to the boondocks to get a little more experience."
     
                "Delinda,
look after Retief," said Arapoulous. "I'll see you later. I've got to
see to the wine judging." He disappeared in the crowd.
     
                "Congratulations
on winning the day," said Delinda. "I noticed you at work. You were
wonderful. I'm glad you're going to have the prize."
     
                "Thanks.
I noticed you too, flitting around in that white nightie of yours. But why weren't
you picking grapes with the rest of us?"
     
                "I
had a special assignment."
     
                "Too
bad. You should have had a chance at the prize."
     
                Delinda
took Retief's hand. "I wouldn't have anyway," she said. "I'm the
prize."
     
    -
     

SALINE
SOLUTION
     
     
I
     
                CONSUL-GENERAL
MAGNAN gingerly fingered the heavily rubberbanded sheaf of dog-eared documents.
"I haven't rushed into precipitate action on this claim. Retief," he
said. "The Consulate has grave responsibilities here in the Belt. One must
weigh all aspects of the situation, consider the ramifications. What
consequences would arise from a grant of minerals rights on the planetoid to
this claimant?"
     
                "The
claim looked all right to me," Retief said. "Seventeen copies with
attachments. Why not process it? You've had it on your desk for a week."
     
                Magnan's
eyebrows went up. "You've a personal interest in this claim, Retief?"
     
                "Every
day you wait is costing them money. That hulk they use for an ore-carrier is in
a parking orbit piling up demurrage."
     
                "I
see you've become emotionally involved in the affairs of a group of obscure
miners. You haven't yet learned the true diplomat's happy faculty of
non-identification with specifics—or should I say identification with
non-specifics?"
     
                "They're
not a wealthy outfit, you know. In fact, I understand this claim is their sole
asset—unless you want to count the ore-carrier."
     
                "The
Consulate is not concerned with the internal financial problems of the Sam's
Last Chance Number Nine Mining Company."
     
                "Careful,"
Retief said. "You almost identified yourself with a specific that
time."
     
                "Hardly,
my dear Retief," Magnan said blandly. "The implication is mightier
than the affidavit. You should study the records of the giants of galactic
diplomacy: Crodfoller, Passwyn, Spradley, Nitworth, Stern wheeler, Rumpwhistle.
The roll-call of those names rings like the majestic tread of ... of ..."
     
                "Dinosaurs?"
Retief suggested.
     
                "An
apt simile," Magnan nodded. "Those mighty figures, those armored
hides—"
     
                "Those
tiny brains—"
     
                Magnan
smiled sadly. "I see you're indulging your penchant for distorted
facetiae. Perhaps one day you'll learn their true worth."
     
                "I
already have my suspicions."
     
                The
intercom chimed. Miss Gumble's features appeared on the desk screen..
     
                "Mr.
Leatherwell to see you, Mr. Magnan. He has no appointment—"
     
                Magnan's
eyebrows went up. "Send Mr. Leather-well right in." He looked at
Retief. "I had no idea Leatherwell was planning a call. I wonder what he's
after?" Magnan looked anxious. "He's an important figure in Belt
minerals circles. It's important to avoid arousing antagonism, while
maintaining non-commitment. You may as well stay. You might pick up some
valuable pointers technique-wise."
     
                The
door swung wide. Leatherwell strode into the room, his massive