Reward for Retief (50 page)

            "Why, Benny," Gaby
reproved. "You ain't going to let a little old gal keep you from your
duty, are ya? Now you got the captain to rescue, too. Better hurry up."

            "Precipitate action is
not the diplomatic way," Magnan chided. "All in good time, my
child." As he spoke, Magnan edged closer to the shimmering surface, poked
it experimentally with a finger, leaned close and squinted sideways at it, and
called through the reflected surface:

            "Sol, perhaps you'd be
so good as to explain to me the precise nature of this curious phenomenon
you've so cleverly erected here in what seems otherwise to be an ordinary
closet—"

            Gaby interrupted the
well-rounded period with a sharp rebuke. "—get going, Ben Magnan! If I
wouldn't of seen you unhorse Sir Farbelow I'd be starting to wonder if you had
all the
cojones
a feller oughta have to be sparking a gal half his
age!"

            "Your language!"
Magnan gasped.

            "I bet I'm the only one
here talks Spash," Gaby cut him off. "And never you mind my furb-weed
pickin language! Move yer butt, Ben Magnan! Yer friends are needing help!
Now!"

            Magnan experienced a
momentary sense of deep relief that he had the option of a horrible death
rather than endure further attack from such a quarter. He dived through ...

            The immense Worm, scaled,
bristly, and mind-blowingly huge, lay like the Great Wall of Wubbadock,
encircling the patch of smooth-cropped lawn. Dark trees loomed behind. The
creature's head, raised high on its thick neck, was no larger, Magnan reflected
wildly, than the Ambassador's formal limousine, a replica 1932 Dusenberg J; but
against it hung Prince William, still gripping the hilt of the sword he had
plunged full-length into the monster's pale-scaled throat. Apparently little
discomoded by the wound, it shook its head and threw the man off.

            Retief stood near the
behemoth, looking up at the underside of its jaw, ten feet overhead. Magnan lay
where he had fallen, to his left he saw the circular mirror-bright surface of
the Link. He made a convulsive lunge toward it, but Retief spoke quickly:

            "Stand fast, Ben. I
don't think things are as bad as they look."

            "They
couldn't
be!"
Magnan gasped. "What are you doing, do you mean to
dare
the monster
to devour you?"

            "Something like
that," Retief agreed casually. "At the same time, I'm getting a good
look at the bruise where I kicked Smeer one day."

            "Whatever has kicking
Chief Smeer," Magnan demanded, "a most undiplomatic ploy, by the
way—to do with offering yourself as a sacrifice to this horrid great
creature?"

            "The chief was a pretty
undiplomatic fellow himself," Retief reminded Magnan. "But I wasn't
really sure what he was up to until I saw my boot-print on his adam's-apple
just now."

            "Have you taken leave
of your senses, Jim?" Magnan wailed.

            "Sure," Retief
replied cheerfully. "We all have."

            "Kicking Smeer was bad
enough," Magnan went on doggedly, "but as for attacking this
malevolent mountain of meat—pardon, no alliteration intended—if you had, in
feet done so, isn't this a poor time to remind it of the incident?"

            "By no means,
sir," Retief replied. "He knows now his game's blown, and that it
won't work anymore, now that we're on to him."

            "On to him?"
Magnan moaned. "Withdraw to my side at once!" he barked. Retief
ignored him, and strolled around to a position directly beneath the gaping,
ten-foot jaws.

           
"Mister
Retief."
Magnan yelled. "I distinctly directed you to come here at once!"

            Retief turned his head to
look at him with a glance Magnan had seen only once before, on the occasion
when a Groaci corporal had elbowed aside a senior Terran field marshall; the
marshall, who had appeared on the point of apologizing, catching Retief s look
had at once spilled the impudent non-com from the chair he had preempted and
reclaimed the place himself.

            "Good lord,
Retief," Magnan objected. "I didn't mean, I only meant, I mean—"

            "I understand,
Ben," Retief replied. "You were concerned about my safety. But you
needn't be. Smeer is going to be very nice from now on. Isn't that correct,
Chief?" He addressed the final query to the fanged dragline bucket.

           
you'd retter be!
the
long-silent Voice said sharply.
or I'll
be forced to—

            "you
wouldn't
!
Junior's comparatively weak voice responded.

            "Sure, he would,"
Retief supplied. "He has a few points to make up with His Terran
Excellency."

            As Magnan stared in utter
Amazement (331-a), Prince William, unhurt, came up beside Retief, and by
standing on tip-toe, grasped the hilt of the sword still standing in the
monsters neck. With a sharp jerk, he withdrew it; an immediate
hiss\
of
escaping air was accompanied by the abrupt appearance of wrinkles in the scaly
hide, which quickly became folds as the upreared torso collapsed in upon itself
while the fearsome face, sagging grotesquely, assumed a look of drooling idiocy
before collapsing in a heap of rubbery vinyl on the grass.

            "R-Retief!" Magnan
yelped. "It was only a—a sort of inflated dummy!"

            "Very observant of you,
sir," Retief commented. Then to the prince, "Nice timing, Your
Highness."

            "I'm sorry to say this
whole farce is a result of the lad's rather impish idea of a joke," the
prince said glumly. "I fear I've been lenient, but once I have him firmly
in hand again, I'll do what I can to correct his thinking."

            "Good idea,"
Retief commented. "You can start now." Even as he spoke, the crape
myrtles parted and the boy's grubby face poked through.

            "Aw, Willy," he
said reproachfully. "You spoiled it! I was going to have some fun with
that bunch of brigands when they got here—" he broke off abruptly as half
a dozen unwashed louts garbed in soiled and ragged remnants of once-gaudy
livery came crashing through the hedge, beyond the bench, their crude,
home-made cutlasses drawn.

            "Well, looky
here," the apparent leader of the piratical crew remarked in a stagy tone.
"A little snot-nosed brat and a couple old grandpas. Let's have some fun,
boys."

            "Do you want this one,
Sir Retief?" William inquired gravely. "Or may I have him?"

            "After you,
milord," Retief responded. As the seven-foot thug gaped, Prince William
walked over to him and without a word, reversed his sabre, and using the
finger-guard as brass knuckles, felled him with a blow. He then carefully wiped
the hilt on a linen handkerchief. The next lout in line moved forward with an
oath just in time to be tripped by Retief s foot. As he came to all fours,
Retief looked down at him with an expression of Solicitous Concern for the
Unfortunate (729-d) and asked:

            "Did it faw down go
boom?

               
"Jest
wait—" the fellow started.

            "Wait, heck!"
Sobby supplied; the grubby boy pushed forward, and laid the lout out with a
well-directed kick to the jaw.

            "You—you kicked him
while he was down!" Magnan yelped from the sideline. "Good
work!" he added, "Your Highness."

            Meantime, Sobhain advanced
to the next ruffian, who was now flexing his formidable shoulders and adjusting
what he hoped was a fierce look on his blunt features. At the boy's hail,
"Hey! You!" the big fellow turned to hear what this audacious runt
had to say and at once received a kick in the calf of his burly leg with all
the force the child could impart to his worn boot, causing the bulging muscle
to spasm into a hard knot. The victim leaned over with a yell to massage the
agonizing cramp and the boy kicked his other leg from under him.

            "Truss this rascal,
Willy," the boy commanded his princely tutor.

            "Very well,
Sobby," the elder nobleman replied promptly. "Your sweep was a trifle
slow; two hours of exercise first thing in the morning."

            "Sorry, sir," the
princeling said repentantly. "I didn't mean to be cheeky, really," he
amplified. "I was just excited."

            "Accepted, Your Royal
Highness," William reassured his young master. "You still need the
exercise."

            "Don't I know it,"
the boy agreed. "Locked up in that storeroom I sort of let myself get out
of shape."

            "You didn't do badly,
Sobhain," William commented, glancing at the two groaning thugs laid out
on the grass. "But from now on I think you'd better let Lord Retief and
myself handle the heavy work."

            The boy prince turned to
look interestedly at Retief. "Are you really Retief?" he demanded,
not without a note of awe in his imperious voice. "I thought he was just a
legend."

            "I am indeed, he,
Sobhain," Retief replied. "And I always believed
you
to be a
legend."

            "It appears,"
Prince William spoke up, "that each of my lords has spontaneously evoked
the cosmos of his own profoundest yearnings. Both Northroyal's alternate
destinies are realized here on this curiously malleable world. And I am somehow
privileged to participate in both."

            "Both, hell!" Sol
interjected indignantly from beyond the gate. "I was here first, and it's
my
yearnings that count."

            "So they do,
Captain," William agreed soberly, "and you yourself can see the
parlous state of affairs you've evoked."

            "So now, I'm
responsible already!" Sol yelled. "This bunch of bums comes along and
messes up my set-up, which I just about had it running right—even had Wiggly
botded up and all; then you nosy diplomatic types got an oar in, and
fffft\
what's
left is a good sample chaos! And now you blame
me\
I guess you boys
better go now, before I blow my cool and let slip a few expressions like maybe
'incompetent crooks' and 'half-baked meddlers!' Good day, ladies and gents. Get
outta my house at once, OK?"

            "You're partially
justified in your resentment, Captain," Magnan responded smoothly.
"However, duty requires that J remain at my post, at least until certain
matters are resolved to the satisfaction of Terran interests."

            Sol advanced on them as if
menacingly, then veered aside and pushed back through the glittering portal.
Then he turned and slammed the door in Magnan's startled face. For a moment
Magnan could see the back of the hand-made panel; then it faded. He reached
out, felt nothing palpable.

            "Heavens!" the
frail bureaucrat cried. "He's marooned us!

            "It's all right,
Ben," Retief spoke up soothingly. "That silly Worm business is
disposed of, and we know the way from here to the cabin."

            "What?" Magnan
yelped. "After days of wandering in this wilderness—how long
have
we
been lost, Retief? I for one have no idea—and poor Gaby is on the other side of
this confounded door!"

            "We made a
circle," Retief told him. "The cabin's just beyond the trees there.
Notice the Domes are still in sight."

            "Impossible!"
Magnan gasped. "Come, let's be on our way before more of those ruffians
come along. And though you've punctured this silly inflatable toy, but we know
from experience that Worm is real, not a mere bladder! Those horrid shedding
teeth!" he shuddered.