Suite at Planetary Control, by a crowd of
Sozier’s bully-boys. They came in past the entire security system without an
alarm. Corasol and the others put up a surprisingly good fight and made it to
the service elevators—and from there to the Sub-station. There was even time to
order an emergency alert to the entire staff—but somehow, they were all caught
at their stations and kept on the job at gun point. Now, I should think that
you, as Chief of Security as well as Communications, should have some idea as
to how all this came about.”
“Are you implying—”
“Let me guess, Taine. You have a deal with Sozier. He takes
over, ousts the legal owners, and set himself up to live off the fat of the
land, with you as his technical chief. Then, I imagine, you’d find it easy
enough to dispose of Sozier—and you’d be in charge.”
Without
warning, Taine put his head down and charged. Retief dropped his cigar,
side-stepped, and planted a solid right on Taine’s jaw. He staggered, went to
his hands and knees.
“I suppose you’d like to get word to Sozier that his work
force is arriving at the port at oh-five-hundred,” Retief said. “Of course,
he’ll want to have a good-sized reception committee on hand as they come out—”
Taine plunged to his feet, threw a vicious left that went
past Retief’s ear, then abruptly dropped, clamped a lock on Retief’s leg,
twisted—
The two men rolled, came to rest with Taine on top, Retief
face-down, his arm bent back and doubled. Taine, red-faced and puffing, grunted
as he applied pressure.
“You
know a lot about me,” he granted, “but you overlooked the fact that I’ve been
Glavian Judo champion for the past nine years.”
“You’re a clever man, Taine,” Retief said between clenched
teeth. “Too clever to think it will work.”
“It will work. Glave’s never had a CDT mission here before;
we’re too small. Corasol invited your Embassy in because he had an idea there
was something in the wind. That forced my hand. I’ve had to move hastily. But
by the time I invite observers in to see for themselves, everything will be
running smoothly. I can even afford to let Corasol and the others go—I’ll have
hostages for his good behavior.”
“You’ve been wanting to boast about it to someone who could
appreciate your cleverness, I see. Sozier must be an unappreciative audience.”
“Sozier’s a filthy pig—but he had his uses.”
“What do you plan to do now?”
“I’ve been wondering that myself—but I think the best
solution is simply break your arm for now. You should be easy to control then.
It’s quite simple; I merely apply pressure, thus . . .”
“Judo is a very useful technique,” Retief said. “But in order
to make it work, you have to be a pretty good man . . .” He
moved suddenly, shifting his position. Taine grabbed, holding Retief’s arm by
the wrist and elbow, his own arm levering Retief’s back,
back . . . Retief twisted onto his side, then his back.
Taine grunted, following the movement, straining. Slowly, Retief sat up against
Taine’s weight. Then, with a surge, he straightened his arm. Taine’s grip
broke. Retief came to his feet. Taine scrambled up in time to meet a clean
uppercut.
“Ah, there you are,” Retief said as Taine’s eyes fluttered
and opened. “You’ve had a nice nap—almost fifteen minutes. Feeling better?”
Taine snarled, straining against the bonds on his wrists.
“Gold braid has its uses,” Retief commented. “Now that you’re
back, perhaps you can answer a question for me. What’s the Birthday Cake?”
Taine spat. Retief went to stand over him.
“Time is growing short, Mr. Taine. It will be dawn in another
two hours. I can’t afford the luxury of coaxing you. You’d better answer my
question.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
Retief looked at the glowing end of his cigar. “This won’t be
subtle, I agree—but it will work . . .”
“You’re
Sozier’s bully-boys. They came in past the entire security system without an
alarm. Corasol and the others put up a surprisingly good fight and made it to
the service elevators—and from there to the Sub-station. There was even time to
order an emergency alert to the entire staff—but somehow, they were all caught
at their stations and kept on the job at gun point. Now, I should think that
you, as Chief of Security as well as Communications, should have some idea as
to how all this came about.”
“Are you implying—”
“Let me guess, Taine. You have a deal with Sozier. He takes
over, ousts the legal owners, and set himself up to live off the fat of the
land, with you as his technical chief. Then, I imagine, you’d find it easy
enough to dispose of Sozier—and you’d be in charge.”
Without
warning, Taine put his head down and charged. Retief dropped his cigar,
side-stepped, and planted a solid right on Taine’s jaw. He staggered, went to
his hands and knees.
“I suppose you’d like to get word to Sozier that his work
force is arriving at the port at oh-five-hundred,” Retief said. “Of course,
he’ll want to have a good-sized reception committee on hand as they come out—”
Taine plunged to his feet, threw a vicious left that went
past Retief’s ear, then abruptly dropped, clamped a lock on Retief’s leg,
twisted—
The two men rolled, came to rest with Taine on top, Retief
face-down, his arm bent back and doubled. Taine, red-faced and puffing, grunted
as he applied pressure.
“You
know a lot about me,” he granted, “but you overlooked the fact that I’ve been
Glavian Judo champion for the past nine years.”
“You’re a clever man, Taine,” Retief said between clenched
teeth. “Too clever to think it will work.”
“It will work. Glave’s never had a CDT mission here before;
we’re too small. Corasol invited your Embassy in because he had an idea there
was something in the wind. That forced my hand. I’ve had to move hastily. But
by the time I invite observers in to see for themselves, everything will be
running smoothly. I can even afford to let Corasol and the others go—I’ll have
hostages for his good behavior.”
“You’ve been wanting to boast about it to someone who could
appreciate your cleverness, I see. Sozier must be an unappreciative audience.”
“Sozier’s a filthy pig—but he had his uses.”
“What do you plan to do now?”
“I’ve been wondering that myself—but I think the best
solution is simply break your arm for now. You should be easy to control then.
It’s quite simple; I merely apply pressure, thus . . .”
“Judo is a very useful technique,” Retief said. “But in order
to make it work, you have to be a pretty good man . . .” He
moved suddenly, shifting his position. Taine grabbed, holding Retief’s arm by
the wrist and elbow, his own arm levering Retief’s back,
back . . . Retief twisted onto his side, then his back.
Taine grunted, following the movement, straining. Slowly, Retief sat up against
Taine’s weight. Then, with a surge, he straightened his arm. Taine’s grip
broke. Retief came to his feet. Taine scrambled up in time to meet a clean
uppercut.
“Ah, there you are,” Retief said as Taine’s eyes fluttered
and opened. “You’ve had a nice nap—almost fifteen minutes. Feeling better?”
Taine snarled, straining against the bonds on his wrists.
“Gold braid has its uses,” Retief commented. “Now that you’re
back, perhaps you can answer a question for me. What’s the Birthday Cake?”
Taine spat. Retief went to stand over him.
“Time is growing short, Mr. Taine. It will be dawn in another
two hours. I can’t afford the luxury of coaxing you. You’d better answer my
question.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
Retief looked at the glowing end of his cigar. “This won’t be
subtle, I agree—but it will work . . .”
“You’re
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