Retief Unbound (33 page)

"To entreat your
pardon, Your Greatness—but to correct a misapprehension: the breech to which I
had reference is the unauthorized presence inside the station of certain
intruders—"

"Intruders! Why
wasn't I notified at once!" the non-Groaci voice barked.

"To have sought in
vain to get a word in edgeways—" "To skip the apologies! To dispose
of the interlopers instanter!"

"To regretfully
report their precise whereabouts is not yet known!"

"To find them at
once and to dispatch them out of hand!" "I don't like this," the
other voice said in Lumbagan. "Flabby security is something I can't afford
at this point. I'm

off to Omega Station,
Nith. Carry on with the interrogation."

Retief tried the
doorknob, found it locked. He quickly extracted a small but complicated device
from an inner pocket, applied it to the latch. There was a soft click. The door
opened silently on a small dark room lined with coat hooks; beyond was a second
room, clinically furnished in white. Under a ceiling glare panel, Gloot sat in
a steel chair, strapped in position by heavy bands of wire mesh. An elaborate
network of color-coded wires led from a cap-like device clamped to his head to
a gray steel cabinet resembling a ground-car tune-up console.

A Lumbagan, if anything
larger and more baroque than Smelch, leaned against the wall. A uniformed
Groaci stood by a door in the opposite wall. Before the captive stood a slight
figure nattily attired in bile-green Bermuda shorts, an aloha shirt in clashing
pinks, and orange and violet Argyles.

"Well, my old
friend Nith, formerly of the Groaci Secret Police," Retief said softly to
Smelch. "I wasn't aware his duties had brought him to these shores."

"Hey—for a couple
minutes I thought that was Whatchama-callit," the Lumbagan whispered.
"But I guess not ... he ain't yelling."

"He looks like
him, does he?"

"Who?"

"You know."

"Oh, him."

"You didn't answer
the question." "Uh—what was the question?" "On second
thought I withdraw it."

"Now," the
Groaci addressed Gloot eagerly, "there are none here but you and I and
Leftenant Chish, and a lone guard unequipped with the higher cerebral centers,
so there can be no thought of repercussions arising from your master's
misinterpretation of events. Now, speak up, fellow. Tell all!"

Gloot struggled against
his bonds. "Oh boy oh boy oh boy," he said. "If I just had a
couple hands free, or maybe a prehensile tail, if I had a prehensile
tail—"

"Bah! My lone
chance to acquire glory in the absence of his Pushiness—"

"You mean his
Puissance?"

"You heard me.
Now, whilst he's absent, quickly spill the legumes, fellow! I'll see to it
you're awarded the Order of Groac, with bladder!"

"Go soak your
organ cluster in concentrated sulphuric acid."

"I have no time
now for such indulgences, reticent one! You force me to extreme measures,
entered into the more reluctantly in the light of certain prohibitions
promulgated by His Extremeness regarding unauthorized use of equipment! But you
leave me no choice, if I'm to score a badly needed point or two!" Nith
turned to the knob-studded console, twiddled controls. "Now to administer
a stimulus which will unlock your mandibles, producing a veritable torrent of
data. . . ." He pushed a button; Gloot leaped against his restraints, yodeling
enthusiastically. Nith pushed another button. Gloot slumped in his chair.

"Ah, you
see?" Nith whispered. "Already you feel better: the cathartic effect
of unburdening oneself of baseless hostilities. Now, you may begin with the
designation of your employers. Whose hireling are you, fellow?"

"Nobody's,"
Gloot muttered.

"Shall I be forced
to consign you to the parts bins after all?" Nith hissed ominously.
"Ah . . . Uplifted One," the bystanding Groaci officer offered
diffidently, "to note that the veracitometer indicates the inferior one is
speaking the truth."

"Eh?
Impossible!" Nith whipped his eyestalks around to focus on the panel.
"The impossibility, that is, that you should imagine me to be unaware of
that circumstance." He twiddled knobs on the panel, then addressed himself
again to Gloot:

"Who sent you
here!"

"Nobody sent me;
me and a chum came together." "Aha! This chum! What power does he
represent?" "He's a Groaci," Gloot said sullenly. "A . . .
Groaci?"

"You heard me,
Five-eyes! And a big wheel at that!"

"The indication of
the instruments," the lesser Groaci whispered. "The possibility of a
malfunction?"

"To not descend to
the fatuous, Leftenant Chish! I myself to have overseen the installation! The
acceptance of the preposterous: the hobbledehoy's truthfulness!"

"Amplified
One!" Chish hissed. "To begin to see the light! Lackaday! To have
accidentally abducted a member of the personal staff of a Groacian MHHP!"

Nith waggled his eyes
at Gloot playfully. "In your report to your superior, I'm sure you won't
find it necessary to mention this little contretemps, eh? Just look upon it as
a slight misunderstanding, easily mended—"

"Upthrust
One," Lt. Chish interrupted. "The possibility that though this one's
companion is of the noble Groacian stock, he himself might yet be in the pay of
inferior races—"

"To be sure,
Leftenant," Nith said smoothly. "To have been about to raise
precisely that issue." He faced Gloot. "Confess all, unfortunate
dupe! You were the prisoner of the Groacian noblebeing, correct?"

"Well—technically
he was
my
prisoner. But between you and me, Five-eyes, I was beginning
to wonder who was in charge."

"You dared impede
the freedom of a High Born One? You abducted him here against his will?"

"Naw, it wasn't
that way," Gloot said. "It was kind of a joint venture, like."

"Joint venture? I
fail to postulate any conceivable circumstance under which the interests of
Groac and of an aboriginal would coincide!"

"Dough,"
Gloot said succinctly. "Mazoola. Bread. You know."

"You shared an
interest in gourmet cookery?" "Gripes, how'd you know that?"

"Further
association with us Groaci will accustom you to such casual displays of
omniscience," Nith said smoothly.

"But—to have
implied that it occupied the status of coequal with its Groaci companion,"
Chish objected.

"To have spoken
allegorically, as is customary with artists! To have implied only His
Supernalness' shared interest in matters gastronomic. But now to wonder—what
brings Groaci brass to this dismal backwater, unannounced? The possibility that
Supreme HQ is checking up on me."

"The possibility
of inquiring subtly of His Supremacy's cook," Chish whispered.

"To try to curb
your tendency to get into the act, Leftenant," Nith hissed. "Tell me,
fellow," he addressed Gloot, "what was the purpose of your Groaci
master's visit to these remote environs?"

"To see what was
cooking, what else?"

"Yes, yes, of
course—a clever cover story. But in addition to his culinary researches, what
was the mission of the High Born?"

"If he had one, he
never told me," Gloot said.

"To be expected
that His Grandeur would not confide in an underling," Nith murmured.

"Estimable
Broodmaster," the leftenant hissed. "To hypothesize: Might not these
same intruders be a veritable inspection team, dispatched by Ambassador Jith,
who, jealous of his prerogatives, may have introduced them here by devious
means, the better to check up on your operation unheralded?"

"Exactly what I
had deduced!" Nith whispered and started for the door. "Certain
reactionary elements have long desired my downfall. What better time than now
to bring long schemes to naught by meddlesome probing, thereafter to cry me
culpable! Forewarned, I'll see to certain matters regarding the voucher files;
meantime, dispatch the prisoner instanter, lest he level feckless charges
against my person!" Nith skittered through the door and was gone. The
leftenant made a rude gesture at the closed door and turned to Gloot, drawing
his pistol.

"No violence,
now," he cautioned the Lumbagan as he removed the cranial attachments of
the veracitometer. "And remember to mention my name in glowing terms to
your master. That's Chish: C-H-I-S-H, by a gross miscarriage of justice a mere
leftenant—" He broke off as Retief stepped through the door, Smelch behind
him. Uttering a faint cry, the officer whirled toward the door by which his
superior had just departed. The Terran reached it first.

"Guard! To
me!" Chish keened, but as the Lumbagan behemoth lumbered into action,
Smelch stepped behind him, gripped hands with himself, raised the resultant
picnic-ham-size aggregation of bone and muscle overhead and brought it down
atop the fellow's cranium with a resounding thump, felling him in his tracks.

"Poor old Vump, he
always had a glass head," Smelch commented.

"Nice one!"
Gloot yelled. "But save old Nith for me!"

"Unhand me,
Terran!" Chish whispered, trying unsuccessfully to dodge past Retief.
"To have important business requiring my urgent attention!" '

"You're confused,
Leftenant," Retief said. "It was Brood-master Nith who had the
pressing appointment."

"Indeed? To have
never heard of him."

"Too bad. I was
hoping you could tell me who he works for."

"Never, vile Soft
One!"

"I'd avoid those
long-term predictions if I were you, Chish. They have a tendency to unravel at
the edges." Retief looked past the Groaci to Gloot, busily freeing himself
from the last of his entanglements.

"Don't break
anything, Gloot; we wouldn't want to short the leftenant's wiring."

"What's
this?" Chish hissed. "My w-wiring?"

"Where'd the other
one go?" Gloot demanded. "That's the one I want. I want to pluck
those eyes one at a time, like ripe froomfruit! How about it, you?" he
glowered at Chish, who recoiled from the menacing figure towering over him.
"Where's the other Terry?"

"The . . . the
other Terry?" the Groaci hissed in agitation. "What other
Terry?"

"You know what
other Terry!" Gloot roared.

"Oh, that
Terry," Chish said hurriedly. "Why, I do believe he's occupying the,
er, guest suite, just across the passage."

"Yeah?" Gloot
looked baffled. "What's he doing there?" "He was, ah, assisting
me in certain experimental activities," Chish replied. "Which reminds
me, I'm overdue for my saline infusion, so if you'll kindly unhand me. . .
."

Gloot pushed the Groaci
away and went across the room and into the passage. He paused before the door across
the hall and rapped. A faint, uncertain cry answered him.

"Whattya
know?" he said. "He's in there." He tried the knob, then stepped
back and kicked the stout panel; the plastic cracked. A second kick shattered
the lock, and the door banged inward. A slight figure appeared in the opening,
checked at the sight of the Lumbagan.

"Hey," Gloot
said weakly as Retief came up behind him. "That's not—"

"Well, there you
are at last, Retief," First Secretary Magnan gasped. "Heavens, I
thought you'd never turn up!"

"I don't get
it," Gloot said, looking from Magnan to Retief. "Another Groaci with
only two eyes, just like you, Retief— and I just noticed that Terry you're
holding onto is wearing three fakes, just like that other Terry, Chish. What
gives?"

"Duplicity on a
vast scale," Retief said. "It's creeping in everywhere these
days."

"You labor under a
misappreheninsion, dull-witted bucolic!" the Groaci began, subsiding in
midword at a minatory tweak.

"What's this
person referring to?" Magnan inquired, favoring Gloot with a distasteful
look. "Is he somehow under the impression—"

"He's a great
admirer of the Groaci, Mr. Magnan. Naturally, he leaped to the conclusion that
you enjoyed that status, since you resemble me so closely." Retief gave
Chish's collar an extra half-twist as the latter attempted to speak.

"/ resemble
you?" Magnan echoed. "Oh, really? Well, actually, the press of other
duties has precluded undue emphasis in my case on gross muscular development,
but I fancy I cut a rather imposing figure in any case. But I fail to see the
connection—"

"How come,"
Gloot asked bluntly, "this Groaci's got the same shortage of eyes as you,
Retief?"

"Quite simple,
Gloot. He's a relative; we're both members of the ape family."

"Oh. But what's he
doing here, palling around with these foreigners?"

"Simplicity
itself," Magnan said. "Though I was far from palling around, as you
so crudely put it. I was seized by a brace of brigands and whisked here for
some obscure purpose unconnected with normal diplomatic procedures." The
first secretary looked severely at Chish. "Perhaps you have some
explanation?"