Retief at Large by Keith Laumer Page A

speculation?"
     
                "What
about my staff? Will—"
     
                "Suitable
bribes will be offered," Fiss whispered crisply. "Pray don't give it
another thought. All surviving members of the Mission will present a united
front—with the exception of the two criminals now sulking in the former
Legation, of course," he added.
     
                "Magnan?
Why, he's one of my most reliable men!"
     
                "Perhaps
something could be managed in the case of Mr. Magnan, since you express an
interest. As for the other—he will return to Groac to stand trial for assorted
crimes against the peace and dignity of the Groacian state."
     
                "I
really must protest—" Barnshingle said weakly.
     
                "Your
Excellency's loyalty is most touching. And now, if you'd just care to sign
here." An underling handed Fiss a document which he passed to Barnshingle.
     
                "Why,
the old phoney!" Miss Braswell gasped. "He's going to do it!"
     
                "It's
time to break this up," Retief whispered to Oo-Plif. "I'll take care
of Fiss; you hit the others."
     
                "On
contrary, Retief-Tic," the Yalcan replied.
     
                "Most
improper to interfere with natural course of events."
     
                "Maybe
you don't understand; Barnshingle's about to sign away your rights to Yale. By
the time you drag it through the courts and recover, you may all be dead. The
Groaci are zealous in the field of wildlife control."
     
                "No
matter. We Yalcans pacifistic folk. Not like butt in," Oo-Plif said
quietly.
     
                "In
that case, I'll have to do it alone. You'll take care of Miss Braswell—"
     
                "No,
not even alone, dear Retief-Tic. Not in spirit of Yalcan Pacifism."
Something hard prodded Retief's chest; he looked down at the power gun in
Oo-Plif's lower right hand.
     
                "Why,
you old stinker," Miss Braswell said. "And I thought you were
sweet!"
     
                "Hope
soon to recoup good opinion, Braswell-Ticcim," Oo-Plif said. "Now
silence, please."
     
                In
the room, Barnshingle and Fiss were making congratulatory noises at each other.
     
                "Matter
of fact," Barnshingle said, "I never felt these Yalcans were ready
for self-government. I'm sure your wardship will be just what they need."
     
                "Please—no
meddling in internal affairs," Fiss said. "And now let us away to
more appropriate surroundings. Just wait until you see the view from your new
suite, Mr. Ambassador ..." They departed, chattering.
     
                "Well,
you've had your way, Oo-Plif," Retief said. "Your pacifism has a
curiously spotty quality. Just why do you object to preventing our unfortunate
Minister from making an idiot of himself?"
     
                "Forgive
use of weapon, Retief-Tic. Foolishness of Barnshingle Tic-Tic-Tic not
important."
     
                "He's
a three-tic man now?"
     
                "Promotion
just received at hands of Five-eyes. Now away to bog, all buddies together,
eh?"
     
                "Where's
the rest of Barnshingle's staff? They were together on the crater-viewing
expedition?"
     
                "All
tucked away in house few alleys from here. Better get wiggle on now. Climax of
festival arrive soon."
     
                "Good
night, does your silly old carnival mean more to you than your own
planet?" Miss Braswell demanded.
     
                "Voom
festival of great national importance," Oo-Plif stated, opening and
closing his bony mandibles like the two halves of a clam—a mannerism indicating
polite amusement.
     
                Following
the Yalcan's instructions, Retief squeezed through narrow passages, found his
way out