The Return of Retief Read Online Free PDF Page A

"We
already know that, Colonel," Felix jeered. "Any kid of about seven
who builds model aircraft knows a Ree day-fighter when he sees one. What else
is new?" Hy snickered, casting a sidelong glance Ambassadorward to assess
the effect of his remark.
     
                "Cleverly
reasoned, I'm sure, Colonel," Sidesaddle conceded, ignoring Felix.
"And at considerable personal risk," he added. "I'll see a
mention is made in my next dispatch to the Department."
     
                "Could
of got us all killed," Hencrate amplified sullenly. "It's OK for
you, Trenchfoot; you're in the Armed Forces, where they give you medals and
stuff. But what would Sector say if they found five Terry diplomatic corpses
blocking the walk when they went out for lunch break, hah?"
     
                "Gentlemen!"
Ambassador Sidesaddle cut in. "Let me remind you that ours is a mission of
peace, not war! Let others expose their reactionary tendencies by
over-responsiveness to trivial provocation! As for us, as diplomatic officers
charged with maintaining a state of unalloyed chumship with our fellow
sentients in the Arm, surely we can refuse to allow ourselves to be distracted
by every trifling incident which happens to occur in our vicinity!"
     
                "Oh,
well put, sir," Magnan gushed. "And after they shot up your personal
spinner, Chief of Mission, For The Use Of, too."
     
                "As
to that, Ben," Sidesaddle replied stiffly, "I've a notion a stiff
note to the Ree Charge at Dobe will soon show that scoundrel the error of his
ways."
     
                "Ahem,
I say, Mr. Ambassador," Hencrate ventured. "Wouldn't that proposal be
likely to be misconstrued by some as sheer jingoism?"
     
                "Jingoism,
Hencrate?" the Ambassador echoed. "Me? You charge your very own chief
with irresponsible sabre-rattling?"
     
                "Not
me, Your Excellency," Hencrate protested. "Remember I said
'misconstrued'."
     
                The
further deterioration of Hencrate's career was forestalled for the moment by
the abrupt arrival amid a miniature dust cyclone whirled up by its
air-cushions, of a fast, black-enamel-with-chrome-inlays dispatch car, Chief,
Security Services, For The Use Of, which skidded to a halt athwart the carved
curbstone, nearly colliding with the angel fountain.
     
                A
pair of CDT security men stepped briskly from the vehicle almost before it came
to rest, and advanced purposefully, briefcases in hand, their expression grim.
     
                "Find
out what this is all about, Ben," the Ambassador directed his Econ
Officer, stepping back to allow his subordinate to edge forward to intercept
the newcomers, who first tried to skirt him, then halted reluctantly and closed
ranks to carry on a whispered conference, which Magnan tried vainly to
overhear.
     
                "Magnan,
CDTO-1, First Secretary of Embassy of Terra at Flamme," the latter
introduced himself hastily.
     
                "Cruthers,
Foreign Service Inspector," the nearer of the two newcomers said over his
shoulder, terminating his conference with obvious reluctance.
     
                "Could
I just ask you gentlemen what it is which occasions such haste this fine
morning?" Magnan bored on as Cruthers turned his back to snap at his
partner. The inspector turned a pained look on Magnan.
     
                "No
time for gossip, Mr. Magnan," he said curtly. "I and Sid are already
running late; I hear Ambassador Sidesaddle that's supposed to be sitting in on
the conference this AM is as temperamental as a Minority Spokesman about being
kept waiting. C'mon, Sid." Cruthers brushed past Magnan to find himself
confronted by the short, pigeon-shaped physique of Ambassador Sidesaddle
himself.
     
                "One
moment, Cruthers," he said, holding up an imperious hand. "No need to
keep the Ambassador