Reward for Retief (25 page)

           
impressive
, the Voice said. I
must speak to george. it seems that when we last talked, he was
either more or less drunk than I estimated.

           
"You'll do
no such thing!" Overbore yelled, whirling to look behind him. "I
absolutely forbid it!"

           
calm down
, the pattern shaped the command clearly.
don't become agitated with retief; he hasn't
said a word.

           
"Well, I
guess I know what I heard!" Sid snapped. "Still, as you
suggest," he went on with an effort at suavity, "it ill-graces a
senior diplomat to blow his cool in the presence of a subordinate. Forget that
outburst, Retief. I'm not myself. Alone, here in this monster-infested
wilderness, betrayed by ally and opponent alike—"

           
"I'm
here,
Sid," Fred Underknuckle spoke up. "You're not
quite
alone,
even if you don't count Retief."

            "You see the problem,
Retief," Overbore appealed. "How Fred ever made field-grade, I shall
never comprehend. And those false whiskers! Egad! I've fallen among
maniacs!"

            "You don't hafta knock
my get-up, Sid, which it prolly fooled Retief here for a good five
seconds," Underknuckle protested. "At least if they got any spy-eyes
focused on us, they got no proof Mrs. Underknuckle's boy Fred was anywhere
around when the trafficking with the enemy was going on."

            "I shall personally
testify at your court-martial," Overbore told the Colonel. " 'Traffic
with the enemy,' indeed! Chief Smeer here is hardly the enemy, but a firm
friend of Terra, Terrans in general, and the Terry Embassy in particular,
especially the Counselor and his confidant the Military Attache!"

            "A minute ago you was
railroading me," Fred grumped. "Now I'm yer confidant all of a
sudden. Better decide which way to swing before that Worm you been talking
about comes charging outa the bushes, breathing fire and all."

            "Where?" Overbore
yipped, turning to look behind him with such vigor that he almost fell. He
grabbed Retief s arm.

            "Get me out of here in
one piece, fella, and I'll see you're rehabilitated!" he hissed.
"Look! There's a cave over there, looks like. Let's try that."

            "After you, sir,"
Retief replied; Sid scrambled for the dubious shelter of the narrow aperture.

            "Uhh! Looks like rotten
ice," the Counselor remarked, but plunged through without hesitation.

           
welcome to my humble abode
, Retief overheard.

            "What do you mean your
'abode,' Ben Magnan?" Sid yelled. "And who's this pack of
undesirables? You've fallen among bad companions, Magnan!" he added,
almost not yelling.

           
would you care for a rest, a bath, or a snack?
the Voice
inquired concernedly,
you seem quite
frazzled, sid.

           
"Everybody's
doing it!" Overbore yelled. "Suddenly it's 'Sid this,' and 'Sid
that!' What's become of protocol, to say nothing of common etiquette?"

           
do you dislike your given name, sidney?
the pattern wondered.
I
see that actually you're fond of it,
honoring as it does your worthy great-uncle. why then the objection to its use?

           
"Magnan, I
must say I resent your unwonted familiarity!" Overbore snapped.
"Uncle Sid was always a great favorite of mine, ten million guck or
no!"

            "But sir," Magnan
babbled. "That wasn't
me
being cheeky!"

            "I say it
was
cheeky,
in the extreme!" Overbore dismissed the objection. "And whence did
you learn that trick of talking without moving your lips?"

            "Sir, I haven't said a
word!" Magnan wailed. "Except just now!"

            "You slipped that time,
Ben," Overbore interrupted cooly. "I saw your lips move."

            "Of course my lips
moved!" Magnan confirmed. "They always do when I speak."

           
it was not ben magnan, but I who made reference to your hopes of
inheritance, sidney,
the Voice interpolated.

            "Who's this mug,
anyways?" Small demanded belatedly, "calling a lady, and me, too,
'undesirables'?"

            "Stay out of this,
you!" Sid turned to dismiss the query. Small responded by knocking the
formerly dignified Deputy Chief of Mission against the wall, sending the
luncheon table flying. Gaby rose with a yelp and Magnan went to her side
protectively.

            "Mr. Henry," he
addressed the big man, "I must protest your untoward violence. You not
only assaulted my very own Counselor of Embassy, you very nearly upset Miss
Gabrielle!"

            "Big deal,"
Jacinthe commented, attempting without success to do up the buttons of her
borrowed shirt.

            "You, sergeant!"
Overbore yelled from his supine position. "It's your duty to protect me
from this ruffian!"

            "Maybe, Mr.
Overbore," Bill conceded, "but you shunta called us all a bunch of
undesirables, maybe. Now, Nudine here: Nudine, meet Mr. Overbore. She's head
Enforcer in these parts, Sid, and a real nice gal to boot."

            "Why, thank you,
Billy," she cooed, and looked up at him searchingly. "You know this
bum?" she inquired, eyeing the fallen diplomat contemptuously.

            "He's a big shot in the
Embassy," Bill hastened to explain. "Usually he's a cool article, but
I guess he's a little shook right now." He extended a hand to assist the
Great Man to his feet. "This here's Big Henry, manager o' the Cloud
Cuckoo," he pointed out formally. "Big, meet Counselor Overbore. Over
there," he went on, pointing, "that's Red, he's a prizner of war, but
kinda reformed."

           
i suggest,
the Voice cut in silently,
that you take affirmative action at once. observe the activity at
the entryway.

           
Bill and Magnan
turned as one to see the last sliver of daylight abruptly cut off.

            "Hey!" Bill yelled
and charged past them to hurl himself in vain against the barrier.

            "Must be a big one they
done shoved in there, boys," Small announced, after pushing without
effect. "Come on, Bill, and you too, Red. You better lend a hand, too, Mr.
Magnan. If n we can't budge this mother, what we are, we're buried alive!"
He set himself and heaved again.

            As Magnan and the Marine
crowded in to help push, Red sauntered over casually. "I got no
worries," he told them. "Them's my buddies yonder. They ain't going
to bury their pal Reddy alive."

            "One can't make a
souffle without breaking eggs, Red," Magnan reminded the insouciant
fellow. "They can hardly bury us alive without inflicting the same fate on
you, pal or no."

            "Well, I dunno,"
Red hedged. He went to the former opening, and yelled: "It's me, Eddie!
Lemme outa here!" Then he fell to, gained a foothold and added his force
to the effort, but uselessly. The rock held firm. Then Retief stepped up and
pushed it aside.

            Behind them, shoe-leather
scrapped on rock, and Magnan turned in time to see Overbore disappear down into
the darkness at the back of the cave.

            Jacinthe was the first to
react. "Hey, Mister!" she shouted after him even as he was engulfed
in the darkness.

           
that was perhaps unwise
, the thought formed in the mind of
each one present.

            "Yes, but—" Magnan
offered and looked questioningly at Retief. "Hadn't we better ...?"

            "Right, sir,"
Retief confirmed promptly.

            "What's happening, Mr.
Worm?" Magnan demanded aloud. "Is he—?"

           
your terran minds are very complex,
was the Only reply.

            "Very possibly,"
Magnan conceded, "but what has that to do with Counselor Overbore getting
lost in that underground labyrinth?"

           
once again you surprise me
, the pattern told him.

           
did you encounter a maze when you ventured there?

           
"No, of
course not," Magnan conceded readily. "Actually, it was a lovely,
park-like valley, quite odd, actually, considering it was underground. But how
could it have been? I saw a blue sky with fleecy white clouds, and afternoon
sunlight. Somehow, I must have wandered out onto the surface. Curious, I'm not
given to such lapses ..."

           
yet you found it pleasant enough, did you not?
the Voice
insisted.

            "Most pleasant!"
Magnan agreed. "Especially when I so unexpectedly met Gaby." He
turned to peer about in the gloom. "Gaby, dear, where've you gotton
to?" he queried uncertainly.

            At that moment, Sid
Overbore's voice, at its most authoritive, rang sharply from the darkness.
"Are you fellows—and ladies," he added with awkward gallantry,
"still here? We're wasting time!" He emerged into view, breathing
hard.

            "Ye gods!" he
declaimed. "Three days in a retirement home for worn-out bureaucrats! The
dinner-table conversation, Ben, was less than scintillating, I can assure
you—and, you know, I had always had a vague sort of idea that's where I'd find
peace at last, some day. Now I realize that worked-out diplomats don't retire,
they're junked. Horrid. Do have Red bring me a dish of tea; I'm quite
undone." He stumbled, and Red instantly took his arm and eased him into a
Chippendale chair.

            "A retirement home,
sir?" Magnan queried uncertainly.

            "Where'd you get that
idea?" Overbore snapped.

            "Why—it's what you
said," Magnan blurted. "I heard you quite plainly—so did—"

            "Then why the devil are
you asking me if that's what I said, Magnan?" Sid demanded scornfully.
"We've no time to waste. I overheard a couple of old fellows from Sector
discussing certain long-range strategic plans for this infernal worm-infested
world. We must act at once if we're to save our skins!"

            "Long-range strategic
plans, sir?" Magnan quavered, and then caught himself. "Of course,
long-range strategy is
so
important. What scheme has Sector devised to
ensure the integrity of this rather strange, but actually quite charming
planet?" he babbled on. "I've a theory, sir, about some of the
apparently fantastic phenomenon we're witnessing here—it's all perfectly
rational, once one has somewhat revised one's conception of 'rational'."
He fell silent and waited expectantly.

            " 'Actually quite
charming,' eh?" Overbore snarled. "Dammit, now you've got me doing
it. So you want to preserve the so-called integrity of this dismal cold, wet,
cave, is that it? Have I misconstrued you, Magnan?"

            "No, sir, I mean yessir!
" Magnan blurted. "You haven't misconstrued me, I mean. Why, Retief
and I have uncovered a large-scale conspiracy on the part of certain
disaffected individuals, to destroy the Worm himself! We interrupted them in
the very act of fire-bombing his lair, here."

            "Is that why the place
reeks of number three?" Sid snorted. "Enough to destroy one's
palate." He broke off to confer with Red over the wine list.

            "How perceptive,
sir!" Magnan cried. "They poured the fuel in and ignited it. However,
the occupant was outside, and suffered no harm, you'll be glad to know. Hardly
even melted the ice—it's only a rather thin layer on the limestone, you know.
Oddly, only a trickle of water from the melt flowed out the crevice yonder,
which is how we found it—the fissure I mean—but most of it flowed into the
cave, and gave rise to the broad river that flows through the caverns."