Reward for Retief by Keith Laumer Read Free Book Online Page B

casual attempt to free his arm, which Retief released, at the
same moment plucking the potent handgun from the sergeant's grip. He checked
the charge indicator and handed it back. "Don't fire until you see the
yellow of their eyes," he advised. At that moment, Loudmouth, who had
succeeded in forcing entry in advance of the main body, jittered to a stop
before Retief.
     
                "Your name?" he
demanded in his squeaky voice, which had been slightly bent by the gate.
     
                Magnan stepped forward.
"I am Consul General Magnan," he advised the nosy local. "First
Secretary of Embassy of Terra, and Budget and Fiscal Officer to the Terran
Mission to Sardon," he elucidated. "May I inquire to what we are
indebted for the honor of this delegation's informal visit?"
     
                "Sure, go ahead and
inquire," the Sardoner agreed. "But don't wait around for an answer;
I got nothing to say, except Terry Go Home'."
     
                "Your manner,
sir," Magnan countered stiffly, "is hardly that which one expects
from a representative of the government to which I am accredited, and which has
issued to me an Exequatur confirming the acceptance of my credentials. Now do
step aside and permit me, and my colleague, Mr. Retief, to proceed without
further boisterousness."
     
                "Boysters will be
boysters," the local dismissed Magnan's plea. "Retief, eh? I heard o'
that one from Chief Smeer; hows come he's threatening I and my boys with that
weapon?"
     
                "You err, sir,"
Magnan countered icily. "We are diplomats, and having disavowed the use of
force, are of course unarmed."
     
                "Oh, yeah? Then I guess
my name ain't Smudge, which I'm Chief of Metropolitan Police."
     
                "Curious," Magnan
observed. "This morning at the post, we met one Chief Smeer who claimed
chiefship of the same organization. However, not having the honor of your
acquaintance, sir, or Chief," he amplified, "I can hardly be in a
position to confirm your personal appelation."
     
                "Oh, well, OK, 'Deppity
Chief Smudge'," the local amended.
     
                "Oh, he's Smudge, all
right," Bill spoke up. "I seen the sucker before when we done the
familiarization course."
     
                "In that connection,
sir," Smudge spoke up briskly. "You're unner arrest; or what I'm
tryna say, this Retief is unner arrest." He turned his gaze—an eye like a
badly fried egg—toward Retief. "You gonna come quiet, or what?"
     
                "I must protest, Mr.
Smudge!" Magnan yelped. "Mr. Retief enjoys diplomatic immunity!
Especially right here in the Embassy lobby!"
     
                "Whatta I care what he
enjoys? Myself I like a quiet dinner with a pal," Smudge rebuked Magnan.
"All I know is I got orders to pick him up. So let's not get ourselfs no
Interfering With a Officer in the Preformance of His Duty rap and all,
OK?" He reached for Retief, who somehow wasn't quite there anymore, having
stepped aside.
     
                "That won't be
convenient, chief," Retief told the exasperated cop. "You can go now,
and don't forget your subordinates."
     
                The cop uttered a yelp and
charged, only to rebound from Retief s fist; he made another try, and somehow
his face impacted Retief's knee. Behind him, the overstressed gate fell with a crash! and the entire mob was through and advancing at full charge, but at an
abrupt Blap! from the direction of the little group of Terrans the main
body changed direction and went pouring back out through the entry over the
ruined gate and off along the ledge; from the two-by-fours crisscrossing the
abyss, an indifferent populace hardly glanced up at them passing in full cry.
Only Smudge and another laggard remained behind, still intent on reaching the
Terrans.
     
                "OK, that's another felony
rap,