"Smeer was a tool to be
used and cast aside," Overbore explained to the colonel. "Now, as for
you, Retief, it was you who volunteered to 'see what's to be done,' your very
words."
"Not quite, Mr.
Overbore," Retief contradicted the Counselor politely. "That was
Voice. He's the big cheese around here."
"You deny making the
declaration which both Colonel Underknuckle and myself clearly heard?" Sid
turned to the Attache. "Right, Fred?" he purred.
"Sure, Sid, uh,
Counselor Overbore, I mean. No disrespect intended. Just palship, you know,
Sid?"
"The informality will
be overlooked on this occasion, Fred," Sid conceded in a tone of Gracious
Condescension (104-B).
"You don't need to go
pulling no 104 on
me,
Sid," Fred carped. "They used to call
you 'Windy,' eh? I
coulda
called you that."
"But you didn't, Fred,
and you won't," Overbore reminded the colonel coldly. "For very good
reasons well known to us both; you're in this far too deeply to attempt to
weasel out now; if I fall, you fall first. Now buck up, man, and take that
effective action to extricate us from this awkward contretemps, just as you boasted!"
"Whom, I, Sid?"
Underknuckle asked as if Amazed at an Unreasonable Attack From an Unexpected
Quarter (1127-M).
"One should never essay
subtleties beyond one's capability, Fred," Sid told him coldly. "Your
attempted 1127—yes, I recognize your intention—was pitiful at best, and by a
less experienced professional than myself would have been interpreted as a 707,
about a Q, I'd say."
"Anyways," Fred
counterattacked gamely, "it was
you
that said about the paradox! A
Class Two, you said, as if you were an old hand at classifying paradoxes, or
paradoces, if you care about correct Latin inflection."
"Which I emphatically
do not!" Overbore riposted vigorously. "Your attempt to attribute to
me your own immoderate remarks is one which I shall not fail to include in my
post-op debriefing Report!"
"If you ever get to
fake up your lousy PODR," Fred challenged. "First, we gotta get outa
here alive, right? And I never said a word about paradoces!"
Sid turned to Retief, who
was leaning against the wall with his arms folded.
"What about it, Mr.
Retief?" Sid barked. "Are you or are you not a witness to the
colonel's remarks?"
"I'm afraid you're both
mistaken," Retief told the dumbfounded senior officials. "Neither of
you said that, and neither did I. That was something known as Worm."
"The dread monster of
the Taboo Cave!" Underknuckle groaned at the same moment that the
Counselor sneered.
"Oh, back to that
nonsense, eh? Tell me, sir, just where is this mysterious Worm? I challenge you
to show him to me!"
you'll regret that piece of insolence!
the silent Voice
boomed.
get back against the walls
there, all of you, lest I squash you by inadvertance!
"How did Retief do
that?" Sid whimpered as he flattened himself against the cold, wet rock
surface at his back.
"H-how do I know?"
Underknuckle objected from his position flanking the almost completely
obstructed exit-crevice.
take it easy, gents
, Junior's lesser voice seemed to creep
stealthily into their excited awarenesses.
old
voice won't hurt you unless you get her a little riled, and then it'd just be
an accident. stand fast and let her get it off her chest—
i
heard that, junior
,
the Big Voice cut short the lesser one.
now,
as for you, terries as I believe you call yourselves, what in tophet are you
doing here in the first place?
"Well,"
Fred spoke first. "Sid here, Counselor of Embassy Sidney Z. Overbore HI,
FSO-1, I mean he came to me yesterday afternoon with this plan, see? He said
where the Terry Mission was getting no place in pacifying the locals, because
they were already too peaceful—didn't have a regular war going to speak of,
just the constant dacoit activity. Plus the renegades, of course, were hazing
the illegal Terries. Said if we could organize the action where the media could
have something to get their teeth into, then we could step in and pacify the
whole works, and take our places in the annals of diplomacy as the Great
Pacifiers! So, naturally I leapt or leaped at the chance to bring the joys of
halcyon peace to the poor overworked locals, and all. Terries, too. Members of
TERRI were always reporting a colleague's disappearance, or worse. So I hadda
clear duty to do something affirmative, like they say."
'annals of diplomacy; indeed
, Junior
cut in sharply.
'annals of villiany' is closer to the mark!
for
once you're right, junior
,
the Big Voice thundered.
but this is a matter for me to handle. watch
closely and observe my technique, which, you will note, does not rely on brute
force and superficial manipulation.
as
you desire, big shot,
Junior
agreed tamely.
but I was hoping to see
the fat one face-to-face with his secret yearnings ...!
this
is not an occasion for personal gratification, junior,
the Big Voice
rebuked sharply
,
indeed, that is
the first LESSON to be learned. now
observe!
"I'm going
mad," Fred Underknuckle said quietly in the thunderous silence which
followed the Worm's pronouncement. "I just heard old General Faintlady
chewing me out, just like in the old days at the Academy. Ah, those were the
great days! We had some solid values then, like promotion and pay! Now it's all
politics—like
this
dumb caper. Stir up a war so we can settle it, the
man says, and make some underling the patsy. I better go make a clean breast of
the whole thing to His Ex before it's too late."
"You'll do nothing of
the sort, Fred," Overbore barked. "Don't let a mere ventriloquist
unman you, man. Remember the Fighting Underknuckles from whom you claim
descent!"
" 'Claim,' hell, Sid
Overbore!" the colonel snapped. "I have a fully authenticated
genealogy showing Field Marshall Lord Underknuckle was my paternal
four-greats!"
"I recall the career of
His Lordship," Overbore replied. "Died manfully at Bellybutton, as I
recall. Well, I have no intention of dying manfully, or any other way, just
now. Instead, we shall proceed in a deliberate, calculated fashion to draw
total success and vindication from the shambles of shameful defeat—a defeat
which would have been due solely to your lack of soldierly qualities, my dear
Colonel!"
While the two senior Embassy
officers were wrangling, Retief had examined the wall which blocked his way.
The feeble available fight revealed an uneven fine of juncture along the left
side. He took from his pocket a steel tool, useful for opening recalcitrant
doors, and inserted it in the hairline crack. Something inside said
'click!'
and a sliding panel moved aside to open a vertical aperture.
hey, that's not cricket
! Junior objected. Both Overbore and
Underknuckle at once responded by objecting to the other's supposed accusation
of foul play. Retief ignored the hubbub, and taking a two-handed grip, he
forced the thin, tough slab aside, and stepped through into a somewhat larger
cavern, with no sign of the heaped rubble where Magnan was trapped. Without delay,
he started down the almost lightless passage. Behind him, Colonel Underknuckle
uttered a yelp: "He's escaping! Do something!" Overbore's reply was
inaudible. Retief went on, studying the water-worn walls as he went.
you've taken me unaware
, Junior complained. I
had expected you to follow magnan into my
hideaway—or to become jammed in the passage in the attempt! you've spoiled a
most artistic plot!
once
again
,
the Big Voice
rang silently,
your inexperience has
led you into folly. you may amuse yourself with the shallow beings in the outer
cave.
watt
! Junior pled, I
had a really neat plan going, and I can
still bring it off, if you'd just leave me alone a few minutes.
A side passage
debouched to the left. Wan daylight shone from it.
seize the intruder as soon as he ventures here,
Junior
ordered, somehow furtively.
Retief flattened himself
against the cave wall as two men in tight black clothing appeared from the
dimness.
" 'Grab the intruder
when he pokes his nose in,' the Boss says," one of them sneered. "So
how do we grab some sucker when nobody ain't poked his nose in, eh,
Manny?"
"Shut up, Boony,"
the other replied curtly. "He gotta be clost." He moved uncertainly
past Retief. "Cain't see nothing in the dark," he muttered.
"Wrong, Manny,"
Retief said, imitating the penetrating, though silent voice of Junior. "
'Nothing' is precisely what you
can
see in the dark."
"OK, OK, I get
it," Manny replied irritably.
"Who you talking to,
Man?" Boony wanted to know. "I didn't say nothing."
" 'Nothing' is
precisely what you
did
say, wise guy," Manny retorted. "I
guess you ain't no smarter'n me, huh?"
"Don't start nothing,
wise guy," the slightly larger Boony advised.
"Ill pass that
one," Manny said. "Din't you hear old Boss, too?"
"Boss ain't said
nothing 'cept clobber some bum," Boony objected. He had paused directly
before Retief; his unshaven jaw was a barely visible target in the gloom.
"Hold that pose,
Boony," Retief said, and as Boony reflexively jumped, he pole-axed him
with a straight right. Manny scuttled over to peer down at the limp form of his
partner.
"What's got inta ya,
Boony?" he demanded. "This here is serious business. Lay off the
clowning!" He poked Boony's limp form with one booted toe. "Come on,
Boonsy, get up, OK? We got a job to do." When there was no response, he
squatted and began to shake the slack shoulder. From this point of vantage, he
discerned a pair of feet planted immobile just beyond Boony's outflung arm.
Manny rose quickly. "Oh-oh," he commented. "I was just
going," he added in a conciliatory tone, and grabbed Boony's arm as if to
lift him with a fireman's carry. "It's just my pal here, which he's having
one of his spells," he babbled. "Soon's I get him back to the nutch
..."
"Never mind that,
Manny," Retief told the panicky fellow. "I'm not going to hurt
you—yet. I need some information. Do you feel like supplying it?"
"Sure, chief, you bet.
Information? Heck, I'm a gold mine. I got information I ain't even used yet.
Wanna know where old Boss keeps the booze?"
"Not yet," Retief
told him. "Start with what you're doing here."
"Well, like we was
saying, we come over to clobber some clown which he was like intruding in the
Boss's private turf and all."
"Why?" Retief
pressed the man.