Retief and the PanGalactic Pageant of Pulchritude by Keith Laumer Page B

misunderstandings, ruptures, brawls, rows,
sit-ins, shoot-ins, and assorted Donnybrooks, with the participants changing
sides at irregular intervals according to no known scheme, our chances of
unifying the planet under a single flag are on a par with the likelihood of my
making Light Colonel by Voom Festival."
    "Alas,
I fear we're actually losing ground," the Groaci functionary seated beside
him whispered in tones of deepest pessimism. "Not content with strewing
each other's members in the public ways, the aborigines now widen the scope of
their hostilities to include us selfless diplomats. Only yesterday I was
savaged by a seeing-eye leg—"
    "Heavens,
what about me?" Magnan cut in. "Only minutes ago I was forced to deal
sharply with a chap intent on an audacious diplomatnapping."
    "You
didn't lend substance to any potential charges of Terran intellectual
brutality, I trust, Magnan?" a sharp-eyed cultural attaché said.
    "Naturally
not," Warbutton spoke up. "I was present, luckily, and smoothed the
incident over."
    "Pah!"
the Groaci whispered. "There are plots afoot here, I feel it in my
cartilaginous members!"
    "Poppycock,"
Warbutton snorted. "The natives may appear to detest our internal
integuments, but down deep they like us."
    "About
six feet down, preferably," someone muttered.
    "Now,
before we can set about establishing one-world rule on Lumbaga,"
Pouncetrifle cut through the chatter, the smooth flow of his diction somewhat
marred by the silent scuffle in which he was engaged for possession of the
floor. "It's clear that until we devise some means of discriminating—pray
pardon the expression—between the wildlife and the population, certain problems
will inevitably crop up in categorization of life forms as to vermin,
livestock, and constituents. I now call on Mr. Lunchbun, our xenoecologist, for
a brief report on the complexities of Lumbagan biology." The ambassador
favored his Groacian colleague with a frosty smile and subsided. From his place
near the foot of the table, a sad-faced chap with thinning hair rose, rattled
papers, and cleared his throat.
    "As his
Excellency so discerningly pointed out," he began in a nasal drone,
"the ecological situation here on Lumbaga is hardly susceptible to
analysis by conventional means. To begin with, we've so far identified over two
hundred thousand distinct phyla of basic wild life running loose on the
islands, a circumstance which has sent our ecological computer into catatonic
withdrawal—"
    "Yes,
yes, Mr. Lunchbun," Jith prompted impatiently. "If you have nothing
further to report—"
    ". . .
we deduce from paleontological evidence," Lunchbun bored on, "that
life has spontaneously arisen from the primordial Lumbagan mud on at least a
hundred thousand separate occasions—"
    "Fascinating,
no doubt," Jith said sibilantly. "Now to other matters, such as
provisions for a rest and recreational camp for Groaci ladies and their lovable
grubs—"
    "While
all of the surviving life forms are mutually infertile," Lunchbun droned
on, "—in fact, reproduction in the conventional sense is not practiced by
Lumbagan life—it seems that symbiotic relationships provide the necessary
proliferation of ecological niche-holders necessary for the full exploitation
of the environment—"
    "Yes,
yes, quite so," Jith piped faintly. "Now as for my proposal for a
gift to the Lumbagan masses of a Bolshoi-type ballet theater—"
    "Now,
as for the VH—vital hierarchy, a term referring to the ascending order of
complexity of competing and cooperating species—it appears we're faced here
with a regular gradation from the mindless free-living gall bladder and/or
medulla oblongata through the pneumopteryx , or flying lung, the
night-blooming liver, or Hepaticus noctens —"
    "Kindly
speak either Terran or Groaci," a representative of the latter species
whispered irritably, "as a courtesy to those of us who are not specialists
in arcane linguistic lore."
    "—to
the subcultural forms such as the