Reward for Retief (26 page)

            "River? Caverns? You've
snapped your cap at last, Ben, as the lads used to say when I was a boy—quite a
vivid metaphor, that; one envisions;—well, never mind what one envisions, Ben!
Stick to the subject! I've told you disaster is upon us!" He waved to Red
to clear away the dishes, and unrolled a war map on the linen cloth.
"This," he stated, stabbing a finger at the sketchy chart, "is
our present location, or so Fred Underknuckle assures me. You see that all
these pink arrows I've drawn in converge on this very site."

            "Whatever can it
mean?" Magnan dithered. "We were aware, of course, that groups led by
Bimbo, and Tiny, and a few others were all headed this way, some of them having
already arrived, and of course we've just seen both Chief Smeer's troops and
you yourself, sir, not that—"

            "Of course not,
Ben!" Sid barked. "The colonel and I are here simply to look into
this matter!"

            "Somehow I had the
impression you had planned the rendezvous with Smeer," Magnan put in
stubbornly.

            "To be sure," Sid
purred. "The chief is cooperating in the apprehension of the
evil-doers."

            "Certainly!"
Magnan agreed. "That's plain as day, sir! I do hope you didn't think I
entertained any idea of treachery?"

            "Of course not,
Ben," Overbore dismissed the thought. "But now we really must get
cracking."

            Magnan nodded emphatically
and took two brisk strides before pausing to ask:

            "Crack
what,
sir?
I haven't the foggiest."

            "Aw
contraire,
Ben,"
Sid corrected. "The foggiest is precisely what you
do
have."

            "Say, Mr. Magnan,"
Bill put in, "I needa ast you something. You know I said what a great time
I had back in the cave, there—kinda spooky, seeing all the guys, even Smokey
and Buck, which they was both kilt at Leadpipe. And
you
went in sir, and
met Miss Gaby, in kind a big park-like; so I got the idea that every feller
finds whatever he wanted back there—some kind of a jazreel trip, I guess—all
but old Sid, here. He says he spent his time in some dump full of wore-out
diplomats. Some place! I wonder ...?"

           
i confess,
the Voice spoke up with silent firmness. I
permitted surface motivations to intervene;
the enormity of what I found in mr. overbore's latent level was such that I guided
him instead to the achievement of a goal he had long claimed as his highest
aspiration, rather than permitting him to actualize the full elaboration of his
deep latency yearnings.

           
"I suppose
that means something," Magnan commented. "But I confess I can't think
what."

            "Musta been some pretty
dirty schemes old Sid was hatching," Bill commented, "to get old Worm
so shook."

            "I protest this entire
proceeding!" Overbore blurted. "You, Ben Magnan, whom I personally
never recommended for summary termination! Such gratitude! Now you accuse me of
some vague crime, only contemplated, you concede, and poison the minds of
everyone present against me." He sobbed abruptly. "I just want folks
to like me," he stammered. "Wanted to be a big enough man they'd all
admire me. Never did any of that stuff you were talking about. I guess nobody
ever did really like me. Not even Mother, always carping at me because I got
tired of her bossing me when I was over forty and a Foreign Service Officer of
Class Three! I'm a failure, never even got one gang of thugs calling themselves
a
de facto
government to accept a no-strings treaty and a billion guck
grant! And that retirement home: found every blockhead and petty tyrant I ever
met in thirty years of dedicated service! All of 'em higher ranking than me,
too! I was lucky I got out alive!"

           
i offer my sincere apologies
, the pattern said in what seemed
a humble tone. I
yielded to the
temptation to allow you to actualize your own declared ambition.

           
"You
goofed, whoever you are!" Overbore barked, turning to peer into shadowy
corners. "Where the devil are you? And
who
are you? I can hear you,
but I can't exactly seem to see you!" He turned to Magnan. "What's
going on, here, Benny?" he entreated. "Sorry about accusing you just
now, but I can hardly be blamed for thinking ..."

            "Sure not, sir,"
Magnan chirped. "And about that next ER: I do hope to see some more
charitable marks in the Big Picture column."

            "I suppose I could bump
you from 'Unbelievable' to 'Hopeless'," Sid conceded. "But right now,
let's see you get me out of this mess you've lured me into."

            " 'Lured,' sir?"
Magnan faltered. "I, sir? How in Heaven's name am I responsible for your
forging into the hinterlands?"

            "Followed you,
Ben," Sid said shortly. "Hadn't had a report from you since you
departed Staff Meeting so precipitately."

            "But, sir, I was
commanded
to go at once, by the Ambassador himself! Right after Art went to see about
running off that infamous WANTED poster. Surely you remember? And I've hardly
had a moment to catch my breath, to say nothing of preparing Progress Reports
in triplicate!"

            " 'Progress,'
Ben?" Overbore queried icily. "A Retrogression Report would be more
apropos."

            "I tried, sir!"
Magnan cried. "I'm still trying, sir!"

            "They don't hand out
any Better Bureaucrat prizes for nugatory efforts, Ben, more's the pity,"
the Counselor reminded his subordinate. "But I was talking about your
apparent inclination to interpret my zeal on your behalf as some sort of
discreditable act," he resumed redundantly. "What about that, Ben? Do
I scent latent insubordination here, or what?"

            "Sir, I didn't breathe
a word," Magnan gasped. "Your secrets are safe with me—"

            "Magnan, I have no
secrets!" Overbore snapped. "And if I did, do you suppose that I'd
have allowed an underling of your gabby proclivities to learn of them?" He
turned his back on the hapless Magnan.

            "The Voice told
us," Magnan whimpered.

            "Never mind, Mr.
Magnan," Bill spoke up. "I seen him out there chumming with that
pillar, too! I'll testify at yer trial!"

            "Aren't you rushing the
pace of affairs a trifle, Sergeant?" Magnan dismissed the offer. "The
Counselor and I were nattering of glowing ER's looming on my personal career
horizon, not preferment of formal charges!"

            "Guess I got the wrong
idea, Mr. Magnan," Bill explained. "Sometimes when you diplomatic
fellers talk, it's hard to say if you're for or against."

            "That, Sergeant,"
Magnan said loftily, "is precisely the essence of enlightened
diplomacy."

            "Where the devil's
Fred?" Overbore barked abruptly. "Fred!" he called.
"Where've you gotten to?"

            "Oh, don't you
remember, sir?" Magnan offered. "You abandoned him to his fate,
outside there, with Chief Smeer and those rascals of his."

            Overbore whipped out a pad
and jotted swiftly. " 'Abandoned,' eh, Ben?" he purred. "I see
you've decided to risk all on your feckless campaign to discredit me. Pity—and
you with such bright career prospects, until this!"

            "Bill saw you,
too," Magnan yelped.

            "Leave me out o' this
one, Mr. Magnan," Bill interpolated. "I got a few career objectives,
too."

            "Worm, if you
are
Worm,"
Retief interrupted the exchange, "let's go back to where you were
confessing. I picked up a sort of subliminal hint that there's more to
tell."

           
you accuse me of lying to you?
came the shocked response,
after all, I never claimed—

           
"You never
denied, it, either," Magnan pointed out.

           
fee fie, fo, fum
,
a silent Voice boomed in the
crania of all present,
I
notice
activity in the taboo precincts!

           
"Heavens,"
Magnan gasped, covering his ears with his palms. "That doesn't sound like
Worm! Who's there?" he quavered. "Do accept my, that is, our deep
personal regrets if we've trespassed. Worm! Where are you now that we need
you?"

           
i'm just here
, the familiar mild Voice replied at once.

           
i, ah, fear there are one or two details that I neglected to
mention. as to draken, the entity who spoke just now of taboo precincts, she's
not the best-tempered lady on sardon, alas. and she's somehow gained the
impression that you, or we constitute a threat to her plans. nonsense of
course, but—

           
you
call what I say 'nonsense
'?
the Big Voice boomed again.

            "N-not
me,
Madam!"
Magnan hastened to clarify. "Why, that's not nonsense at all!"

           
you mean, petty creature, that you do in fact constitute a threat to
my world view?

           
"Good lord,
no!" Magnan yelped. "Quite the contrary! It's just that as I
understand it, the cave is full of eaters which would eat me alive, if they
could!"

           
not alive, ben,
the
cave-filling silence corrected curtly.
as
for you, junior ...

            gee,
fellas,
a
weaker pattern formed hesitantly, in the wake of the Big Voice's thunderous
declaration, I
only tried, I mean, your
intentions were so innocent, sort of, I only wanted to have a little fun, is
all. i'm pretty tired of being bossed around by a—

           
junior,
the
Big Voice rang out silently,
this
time you've gone too far. the affair goldblatt was not, it appears, sufficient
warning of the dangers of feckless meddling with minds more highly developed
that those of the freshman larvae.

           
As the Voice
paused in its furious rebuke, Retief touched Magnan's shoulder.

            "Time to go, sir,"
he suggested.

            "Doubtless!"
Magnan concurred. "But in which direction? If we remove the blockage and
venture outside, Chief Smeer and his bullies are waiting. And if we retreat
into the cave, we're likely to end up in Sid Overbore's retirement farm!"

            "Hey!" Bill put
in, "I don't mind seeing the old platoon one more time. Let's go!" He
suited action to words and disappeared into the darkness where a row of the
luminous flecks still glowed an eerie yellow-green.

            "The Worm, or rather,
ah, Junior warned us," Small contributed. "What do
you
say,
Nudie?"

            "Don't ast me,
Small," she countered, "try asting Miss fancy Gabrielle, she come
from there."

            "Gaby?" Magnan
croaked, as he looked about him wildly, scanning the shadowy recesses, now lit
only by a few vagrant rays penetrating the chinks among the boulders blocking
the entry. "Gaby, dear, where've you gotten to?"

            "Prolly went back
inside," Red offered. "Kinda nice in there, except for them guys
grabbed me. Pool tables, nice bar, not too much light, neat little broad
selling cigars—almost like old Dinny's Billiards back in my home slum. I'm
going back in." He turned and strode off into the darkness.