be
awful sorry you mishandled a field-grade officer of Great Glorb!"
"This
don't look good, pal," Yong commented to Retief. "This sucker is too
fiesty by half." He gave the struggling colonel a dismissing shove and
watched closely as the fellow got to his feet.
"The
Glorb have always been small-timers," the big cat pointed out. "This
time they're pulling something outa their league. Must be they got some big
ideas from you Groaci." He winked, giving his usually good-natured face a
sinister cast which, Retief reflected, boded little good for any who might
attempt to betray the Vang.
"Here,"
General Mub interrupted busily. "It is hardly your responsibility,
Constable, to intrude in state affairs. Kindly limit your officiousness to
seeking out and neutralizing these pesky Terries, if any more should venture
into the area."
"What's
cooking, General?" Yong countered, pointedly ignoring the military
big-wig's demand. "Sounds like the Glorb army's getting ready to do
something foolish."
"It
is the army not of the Glorb alone," the officer came back. "I'll
remind you that it is the defense force of the entire planet and thus Glorbian,
not just Glorbish, and is recognized as such by a major Galactic power!"
"You
mean your pals the Groaci," Yong commented indifferently. "Sure, I
know they set you boys up as head tribe here, but don't let 'em sucker you into
some dumb adventure you can only lose. No space fleet, remember? You piss off
Terra, for example, and you'll be looking up at a solid layer of dreadnaughts
englobing the planet. Against that, noisy speeches won't make much of a
dent."
"Aha,
but let them attempt to land!" Mub came back, unchastened. "They'll
encounter not only the advanced technology of Glorb, but the ferocity of the
world's lesser life-forms! If I but unloose a thousand tud against their
infantry, they'll rue the day—"
"Sure,"
Yong agreed readily. "I guess I forgot how big an appetite the old tuds
have got, at that. I just hope the Terries don't give 'em a bellyache."
The big cat winked again at Retief, then retired to a corner to snooze. Mub
rustled pages on his desk and gave Retief a quizzical look.
"Now,
as to general outlines," he stated hurriedly, "I am of course fully
briefed. Up to the point where we seize the hostages, my duty is clear. But so
far, my advisor hasn't divulged the details of our demands."
"Oh,
the usual trade concessions," Retief suggested casually, "including
exclusive rights to various remunerative markets, of course, plus various
protective embargoes, letters of marque to protect your trade lanes, adequate
developmental grants, options on a few dozen virgin worlds—that should do for
openers," he concluded. "Always remember Groac's status as Most Favored
Nation, eh? Would you care to add anything?"
"That
sounds adequate," Mub agreed blandly, "for openers only, of course,
as Your Excellency suggests. But how about one of those snazzy Thousand-Tonne
VIP boats as my personal transport, 'Glorb Number One', OK? And I'll need a
Bugatti Royale replica for ground travel, armored in an inconspicuous
way, and mounting a brace of infinite repeaters for crowd control."
"The
General is modest," Retief answered. "And just where do you intend to
impound the Galactic beauties after you've taken them hostage? I'll need to
review your security arrangements, of course."
"To
be sure," Mub agreed expressionlessly. "There's a cave I know of,
back in the desert. Nothing fancy, but good enough for a couple of weeks. We
could put in some cots, or hot mud boxes, or whatever, and a port-o-let, and
cater the whole thing. Just need a couple near-sighted limited-duty troopers to
stand guard over 'em, so they
awful sorry you mishandled a field-grade officer of Great Glorb!"
"This
don't look good, pal," Yong commented to Retief. "This sucker is too
fiesty by half." He gave the struggling colonel a dismissing shove and
watched closely as the fellow got to his feet.
"The
Glorb have always been small-timers," the big cat pointed out. "This
time they're pulling something outa their league. Must be they got some big
ideas from you Groaci." He winked, giving his usually good-natured face a
sinister cast which, Retief reflected, boded little good for any who might
attempt to betray the Vang.
"Here,"
General Mub interrupted busily. "It is hardly your responsibility,
Constable, to intrude in state affairs. Kindly limit your officiousness to
seeking out and neutralizing these pesky Terries, if any more should venture
into the area."
"What's
cooking, General?" Yong countered, pointedly ignoring the military
big-wig's demand. "Sounds like the Glorb army's getting ready to do
something foolish."
"It
is the army not of the Glorb alone," the officer came back. "I'll
remind you that it is the defense force of the entire planet and thus Glorbian,
not just Glorbish, and is recognized as such by a major Galactic power!"
"You
mean your pals the Groaci," Yong commented indifferently. "Sure, I
know they set you boys up as head tribe here, but don't let 'em sucker you into
some dumb adventure you can only lose. No space fleet, remember? You piss off
Terra, for example, and you'll be looking up at a solid layer of dreadnaughts
englobing the planet. Against that, noisy speeches won't make much of a
dent."
"Aha,
but let them attempt to land!" Mub came back, unchastened. "They'll
encounter not only the advanced technology of Glorb, but the ferocity of the
world's lesser life-forms! If I but unloose a thousand tud against their
infantry, they'll rue the day—"
"Sure,"
Yong agreed readily. "I guess I forgot how big an appetite the old tuds
have got, at that. I just hope the Terries don't give 'em a bellyache."
The big cat winked again at Retief, then retired to a corner to snooze. Mub
rustled pages on his desk and gave Retief a quizzical look.
"Now,
as to general outlines," he stated hurriedly, "I am of course fully
briefed. Up to the point where we seize the hostages, my duty is clear. But so
far, my advisor hasn't divulged the details of our demands."
"Oh,
the usual trade concessions," Retief suggested casually, "including
exclusive rights to various remunerative markets, of course, plus various
protective embargoes, letters of marque to protect your trade lanes, adequate
developmental grants, options on a few dozen virgin worlds—that should do for
openers," he concluded. "Always remember Groac's status as Most Favored
Nation, eh? Would you care to add anything?"
"That
sounds adequate," Mub agreed blandly, "for openers only, of course,
as Your Excellency suggests. But how about one of those snazzy Thousand-Tonne
VIP boats as my personal transport, 'Glorb Number One', OK? And I'll need a
Bugatti Royale replica for ground travel, armored in an inconspicuous
way, and mounting a brace of infinite repeaters for crowd control."
"The
General is modest," Retief answered. "And just where do you intend to
impound the Galactic beauties after you've taken them hostage? I'll need to
review your security arrangements, of course."
"To
be sure," Mub agreed expressionlessly. "There's a cave I know of,
back in the desert. Nothing fancy, but good enough for a couple of weeks. We
could put in some cots, or hot mud boxes, or whatever, and a port-o-let, and
cater the whole thing. Just need a couple near-sighted limited-duty troopers to
stand guard over 'em, so they
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