Retief-Ambassador to Space (2 page)

"—so they're expecting you to
make good on your promise."

"Promise? What promise?"

"That's what the ceremony was all
about; the Rockamorrans are in trouble, but you've promised to get them out of
it."

"Of course!" Pinchbottle
nodded vigorously. "I've already planned an economic survey—"

"That won't do the job, Mr.
Ambassador; there's a ninety-foot dinosaur named Crunderthush loose in the
area—"

"Dinosaur?" Pinchbottle's
voice rose to a squeak.

Retief nodded. "And you've just
sworn to kill him before sundown tomorrow."

"Look here, Retief," First
Secretary Whaffle said in an accusing tone, "how is it you appear to
understand the proceedings, conducted as they were in this barbaric local
patois?"

"I didn't; they talked too fast.
But I picked up a smattering of the language studying tapes on the way out, and
I had a nice chat with the boatman—"

"I dispatched you to arrange for
lodging and servants, not natter with low-caste locals!" Pinchbottle
chirped.

"I had to do a little nattering
in order to rent rooms; the locals don't understand sign language—"

"Impertinence, Mr. Retief? You
may consider yourself under suspension—"

A group of Rockamorran officials had
gathered, a column of pikemen behind them, stolid and menacing in green-scaled
breastplates and greaves.

"Ah—before you confine yourself
to quarters, Retief," Pinchbottle added, "just tell these chaps we
won't be available for monster-killing. However, I think I can promise them a
nice little Information Service Library, well-stocked with the latest CDT
pamphlets—"

One of the Rockamorrarts stepped
forward, ducked his head, addressed the Ambassador:

"Honorable sir, I have pleasure
of to be Haccop, interpretator of Terry mouth-noise learn from plenty Japanee,
Dutch, Indian, and Hebrew Terry trader. We had nice chin-chin via telescreen
before you-chap hit beach ..."

"Ah, to be sure! Pity you weren't
standing by during the ceremony. Now we'll get to the bottom of this
nonsense!" The Ambassador shot Retief a withering look. "I have heard
... ah ... rumors, to the effect that there's some sort of ha ha dinosaur
roaming the countryside—"

"Yes, yes, excellent sir! Damm
decent you-chap come along us, under circumstances!"

Pinchbottle frowned. "Perhaps I'd
better clarify our position, just in case there was any confusion in
translation. I am, of course, accredited by the
Corps Diplomatique
Terrestrienne
as Ambassador Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary to
your government, with full authority to—"

"Hkkk! With title like that, how
can you miss?" Haccop exulted. "You want few our boys along for pick
up pieces, or you handle Crunderthush alone, catch more glory?"

"Here, I'm a diplomat! My offer
was to assist your poor backward nation—"

"Sure; swell gesture of
interplanetary chumship—"

"Just a moment!" Pinchbottle
thrust out his lower lip, pointing a finger heavenward. "I deal in words
and paper, sir, not deeds! That is, I am empowered to promise you anything I
deem appropriate, but the actual performance is up to lesser persons—"

Haccop arranged his wide features in
what was obviously a frown. "Around this end Galaxy, chum say, chum
do—"

"Surely; and I'll speak to Sector
HQ early next month when my vessel returns; I imagine something can be
arranged—"

"Crunderthush on rampage
now!
No catchem wait next month! You owner genuine Japanese-made sword; you
use!"

The Ambassador's chins quivered.
"Sir! You forget yourself! I am the Terrestrial Ambassador, not a
confounded exterminator service!"

"You-chap violate Rockamorran
tradition number six-oh-two, passed two hours ago by Council of Honorable
Dotards!"

Pinchbottle unbuckled the sword,
tossed it aside. Retief lunged, caught it before it hit the dirt. Arms folded,
the Ambassador glared at the Rockamorran.

"Let me state unequivocally, at
once, that I have no intention of attacking a dinosaur!"

Haccop's face fell—an effect like a
mud-pack slipping. "Is final decison?"

"Indeed it is, sir!"

The Rockamorran turned, spoke to the
pikeman in glottal Rockamorran; they closed in, pikes aimed at Pinchbottle and
the four diplomats who had participated in the oath-taking ceremony.

"Here, what's going on?" the
Ambassador yelped.

"It seems they're taking you away
to the local lockup, sir," Retief said.

"They can't do this to me! And
why aren't you included?"

I didn't take the oath—"

"You-chap move along,",
Haccop said. "Rockamorran got no time be patience with oath-busters."

"H-how long will we be
incarcerated?" First Secretary Whaffle bleated.

"One day," Haccop said.

"Well, that's not too bad, Your
Excellency," Magnan pointed out. "We can spend the time figuring out
an alibi—I mean, of course, composing a despatch to Sector Headquarters
explaining how this is really a sort of diplomatic victory, in reverse,"

"Tomorrow, my good man," the
Ambassador barked, "I can assure you I shall take drastic steps—"

"Have honor of to doubt that,
faithless one," Haccop said. "Pretty neat trick take steps with head
off."

Ambassador Pinchbottle glared at
Retief through the barred window of his cell.

"I hold you fully responsible,
sir, for not warning me of this barbaric custom! I trust you've established
communication with the Corps Transport and ordered their instant return?"

"I'm afraid not; the local
transmitter doesn't have the range—"

"Are you out of your mind? That
means ..." Pinchbottle sagged against the bars. "Retief," he
whispered. "They'll lop our heads off ..."

A squad of Rockamorran pikemen rounded
a corner, marched up to the Terrans' cell; Haccop produced a large key.

"Well, you-chap ready to take
part in execution?"

"Just a minute," Retief
said. "They promised to kill Crunderthush by sundown tomorrow. That's
still a full day away."

"True; but always had
head-cutting after lunch; pack in better house that way, at one credit per
ticket."

Retief shook his head. "Highly
illegal procedure. Killing off a few diplomats is perfectly understandable, but
it has to be done in accordance with protocol or you'll have a squadron of Peace
Enforcers in here revising Rockamorran traditions before you can say
'interference with internal affairs.'"

"Hmmm. You might have point
there. OK, we hold off until tomorrow night, have torchlight execution, very
colorful."

"Retief?" Magnan gasped,
pushing up against the bars. "Isn't there some way to prevent this ghastly
miscarriage of justice?"

"Only way, you-chap change mind,
kill Crunderthush," Haccop said cheerfully.

Retief looked thoughtful. "Do
these gentlemen have to do the job personally?"

"Posilutely! Can't have every
Tom, George and Meyer getting into act. After all, killers of Crunderthush not
only national heroes, win plenty refrigerator and green stamp too!"

"How about it, sir?" Whaffle
addressed his chief. "Have a go, eh? Not much to lose ..."

"How? I can't kill the beast by
firing off a despatch!"

"Maybe we could dig a hole and
let him fall in—"

"Do you have any idea what size
excavation would be required to inconvenience a ninety-foot behemoth, you
idiot!"

"Suppose the Ambassador had a
little help; would that be cricket?"

Haccop cocked his wide head. "Is
good questioning; have to check with Ministry of Tradition on that point."

"I'd
love
to help, of
course," Magnan said brightly. "It's just that I have this
cough—"

"Yes, kaff kaff," Whaffle said.
"Must be the damp air, all these confounded canals—"

"Will you let them out of the
cell to scout the area and plan some strategy for the kill?" Retief asked.

Haccop shook his head. "Nix.
Oath-breakers incarcerated by order of Big Shots. Release also have to clear
through same. But glad to check up after nap-time."

"When will that be?"

"Nap over late tomorrow
afternoon; maybe Midget-with-shiny-head and pals have just time turn trick
before deadline."

"How can we kill a dinosaur while
we're locked in here?" Pinchbottle demanded.

"Should have think of this before
break oath," Haccop said briskly. "Interesting problem; interesting
see how ... comes out."

Outside, Retief drew Haccop aside.
"I don't suppose there's any objection to my taking a look around? I'd
like to see what this monster looks like."

"Sure; do what you like, not
charge for look at Crunderthush, see free any time—just so you got money pay
way."

"I see. I don't suppose you'd
lend me an official guide?"

"Correct. Rockamorran great
tightwad, don't lend nothing, especially to foreigner."

"All I have is pocket change; I
don't suppose you'd cash a check?"

"Hey, you skillful guesser,
Terry, you like gamble?"

"I can see it's going to be a bit
difficult to get around, without funds—"

"Oh-oh, guess wrong that time,
spoil record. Better find answer, though; you run out of cash, you
automatically slave."

"I get the feeling you don't much
care whether this monster menace is removed or not."

"Is correct assumptation. Big
tourist drawing card. Also more fun this way, have something to bet on. Odds
ten to one against Terries now."

"Meanwhile, he goes on eating
people."

"Sure, few peasants got devour,
but so long Crun-derthush avoid eat me, is no scales off my stiz-plats, in word
of immortal bard."

"Shakespeare?"

"No. Egbert Hiesenwhacker, early
Terran trader introduce cards and dice to Rockamorra."

"Cards and dice, eh?"

"Sure; you like play? Come on,
have fun, forget troubles, help kill time up to big affair tomorrow."

"That's a good idea, Haccop; lead
the way ..."

It was dawn when Retief emerged from
the Rockamorran gambling hell; Haccop followed him at the end of a light chain
attached to a steel ring rivetted to his ankle, carrying a large basket of
Rockamorran currency.

"Hey, Retief-master, lousy trick fill
up when I got three ladies of ill repute—"

"I warned you about those inside
straights, Haccop. Now tell me something; all that information the boys gave me
about Crunderthush's habits. Was that all the straight dope?"

"Sure, Retief: pukka information—"

"All right, next stop the
Ministry of Tradition. Lead on, Haccop."

An hour later, Retief emerged from the
Ministry, frowning.

"It's not the best deal in the
world, Haccop, but I suppose it's better than nothing."

"Should have offered bigger
bribes, boss."

"I'm on a tight budget. Still I
think we have a fighting chance. I'm going to need a heli and a good pair of
binoculars. See to it at once, and meet me at the Grand Canal in half an
hour."

"Boss, why worry about
small-timers back in hoose-gow? Look, I got plan; we be partners. You deal, and
I circulate around behind opposition and signal with trick sunglasses—"

"We can discuss business later.
Get going, before I report you to the Slave Relations Board for
insubordination."

"Sure, chief, chop-chop!"
Haccop set off at a lope, and Retief headed for the nearest sporting-goods
shop.

Half an hour later, Haccop dropped a
second-hand float-mounted heli in beside the quay where Retief waited beside a
heap of goods. The Terran caught the mooring rope, pulled the light machine
close, handed in his purchases and stepped aboard.

"They say Crunderthush is
foraging a mile or two east of town; let's buzz over that way and size him
up."

The heli lifted above the fernlike
palms, beat its way across the gleaming pattern of canals and dome-shaped
dwellings of Rockamorra City, gaining altitude; beyond the tilled paddies at
the edge of the town a vast swamp stretched to distant smudges of jungle.

"That's him, boss!" Haccop
called, pointing. Retief used the binoculars, picked out a towering shape
almost invisible among the tall trees rising in clumps from the shallow water.

"He's big, all right. But he
seems to be eating treetops; I thought he was a meat-eater."

"Sure, meat-eater, master. Dumb
peasant climb tree get away, Crunderthush not have to bend neck."