Retief - Retief of the CDT Part 18

"I thalways ought that stiguring out who loll the foote was the pard hart," Chauncey mourned as the door to the tower apartment slammed on them. "We know shoo hiped it, and hair they wid it-and a lat got of food it does us."

"s.h.i.+nth seems to have worked things out with considerable care," Retief agreed.

"Luff tuck," Chauncey commiserated. "I sate to hee those feepy little crive-eyes tut one over on you Perries."

"Well, Chauncey, I'm glad to know you feel kindly disposed toward us."

"It's thot nat, exactly," the Squalian said. "It's bust I had a jet bown with my dookie." He sighed. "Well, you can't wick a pinner every time."

"Maybe our side hasn't lost yet," Retief said. "Chauncey, how are you at poking around in dark places?"

"Just untie a nupple of these cots those guise wise sued in my tiedopodia, and I'll dee what I can sue."

Retief set to work. Ten minutes later, with a groan of relief, the Squalian withdrew the last yard of himself from the final knot.

"Peether, what an exbrothience," he sighed. "Wust jate until I get a lupple of coops around that nise guy's week... ." He writhed inside his polyon coverall, redistributing his bulk equitably among the sleeves and legs thereof.

"And I've shost my looze," he lamented. "Nazzy snumbers, they were, bright with wown tingwips."

Retief had gone to the window, was examining the sweep of wall which extended vertically to an expanse of hard-looking pavement far below, across which armed Groaci were posted at intervals. Chauncey came over to peer out past him.

"Forget it," he said. "You clan't cimb down there. And if you could, the nards would gab you. But jet's l.u.s.t see if there's a lonn in here..." He prowled across to a connecting door, poked his head inside the bathroom.

"Daypirt," he exclaimed. "The gums boofed when they esterundimated a Squalian. Thawch wiss." He extruded a stalked eye, plunged it into the bowl; yard after yard of pencil-thick filament followed, paying out smoothly down the drain.

"Oh, boy," Chauncey said happily. "Will those toobs be bartled when I t.i.t in gutch with an out on the palside. All I dot to goo is reach the plewage sant, gook around for a lie I know, and-" Chauncey went rigid. "Oh-oh," he said. He planted his feet-rather loosely organized in the absence of shoes-and pulled backward. The extended cable of protoplasm stretched, but failed to yield.

"Why, the dirty, skousy kinks!" he squalled. "Way were thaiting! Gray thabbed me and nide me in another tot! I can't foe any garther, and I can't bet gack!"

"Tough break," Retief said. "But can't you just slide the rest of you down the line?"

"Bat, and awondan a sellow-fufferer?" Chauncey replied indignantly. "Besides, my integnal internaments gon't woe through the pipe."

"Looks like they've outthought us again, Chauncey."

"Indeed, so it appears," an unctuous whisper issued from a grill above the door, followed by s.h.i.+nth's breathy chuckle. "Pity about the clogged drains; I'll have a chap along with a plunger in the morning."

"Hey-that posy narker can weir every herd we say!" the Squalian exclaimed. "A dreavesopper, yet!"

Retief went to the door and shot the heavy bolt, securing it from the inside; he caught the chauffeur's remaining eye and winked. "Looks like Ama.s.sador s.h.i.+nth wins," he said. "He was just too smart for us, Chauncey. I suppose he knows all about the bomb we planted in his Emba.s.sy, too-"

"What's that? A bomb? In my Emba.s.sy?" s.h.i.+nth's voice rasped in sudden alarm. "Where? I insist you tell me at once!"

"Don't tell him, Chauncey," Retief said quickly. "It's set to go off in eight minutes; he'll never find it in time."

There was a sibilant gasp from the intercom, followed by feeble Groaci shouts. Moments later, feet clattered in the pa.s.sage beyond the door. The latch rattled. Fists pounded. Groaci voices hissed.

"What do you mean, locked from the inside," s.h.i.+nth's cry was audible through the panel.

"Seven minutes," Retief called. "Chins up, Chauncey. It will all be over soon."

"To flee at once!" Captain Thilf's thin tones squalled. "To leave the dastards here to die!"

"Retief-tell me where the bomb is, and I'll put in a word for you with your chief!" s.h.i.+nth called through the door. "I'll explain you shouldn't be judged too harshly for bungling your a.s.signment; after all, a mere Terran, pitted against a mind like mine..."

"That's good of you, Mr. Amba.s.sador-but I'm afraid duty demands we stay here, even if it means being blown up along with your voucher files."

"My final offer, Retief! Emerge and defuse the infernal machine, and I'll help you blow up the Terry Emba.s.sy, thereby destroying the unfavorable E.R. your shabby role in the present contretemps will doubtless earn for you!"

"That's a most undiplomatic suggestion, Mr. Amba.s.sador."

"Very well, then, self-doomed one! To learn the meaning of Groaci wrath! To watch as I evacuate the premises, leaving you and your toady to your fates!"

Retief and Chauncey listened to the sound of retreating footsteps. They watched from the window as s.h.i.+nth darted forth, crossed the courtyard at a brisk run, followed by his entire staff, the last of whom paused to lock the gate behind him.

"I adfun that was a lot of mit." The Squalian broke the profound silence that fell after the last of the Groaci had departed. "But in mix senates they'll dealize they been ruped. So put's the woint?"

"The point is that I'll have six undisturbed minutes inside the Groaci Chancery," Retief said, unlocking the door. "Fold the hort until I get back."

6.

It was ten minutes before Retief re-entered the room, locking the door behind him. Thirty seconds later, s.h.i.+nth's voice sounded via intercom, keening imprecations.

"Thilf! To batter the door down, to take vengeance on the Soft One for making a jacka.s.s out of me in full view of my underlings!"

"Instead, to hasten to the scene of the upcoming ceremony, Exalted One," the Guard Captain caviled. "Otherwise, to miss the big moment."

"To myself attend the unveiling, whilst you deal with the evildoers."

"To grasp the implication that I am to take whatever action seems appropriate to deal with the interlopers?" Thilf inquired in an unctuous whisper.

"To ask no foolish questions," s.h.i.+nth snapped. "The impossibility of permitting the lesser beings to survive to spread abroad reports prejudicial to the dignity of the Groacian state!"

"To see eyeball to eyeball with Your Excellency," Thilf murmured.

"That's a bot of eyelalls," Chauncey commented. "Well, Mr. Retief, it was a farrel of bun lyle it wasted, but I kess it's gurtains now." He twitched violently as an ax thunk'ed into the door, causing it to jump in its frame.

Retief was at the window, stripping off his powder-blue early-evening informal blazer.

"Chauncey, how much stretch do you have left?" he asked over the battering at the door.

"Hmmm, I gee what you've sot in mind. I'll dee what I can sue..." Chauncey unlimbered a length of tough cable from his left sleeve, sent it over the sill; his coverall hung more and more loosely as he paid out coil after coil of himself.

"There's thuch a sing as overing getterextended," he panted; by this time his garment hung limply on a single thumb-sized strand that extended from the water closet around the door jamb, across the room, and down into the darkness below.

"Can you handle my weight all right?"