(eng) Keith Laumer - Retief 11 by Retief To The Rescue

Author:Retief To The Rescue [Rescue, Retief To The]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

2

Moments later, they struck the trail of shattered trunks and fallen boughs which marked the final approach of the go-boat.

After another few minutes of slow progress through the dense undergrowth, Snart paused and waved a manipulatory member toward a smoldering hulk of fire-blackened scarlet-and-black enamel upended amid leafy debris.

"There she is, gents," he announced superfluously. "And I'll wager a carload of guck against a half-used chocolate-banana dope stick you'll never lift her without a dock-crane."

"Just leave me take a look," Leroy said aggressively, and started forward. Retief fell in beside him. "Do you mind if I watch?" he inquired mildly. Leroy glanced at him dubiously. "Just don't get in my way," he admonished, forging briefly ahead.

"In your way is where I intend to be, Leroy," Retief replied, pausing beside the soot-smeared curve of cracked red enamel that was the fallen boat's port quarter. "Like this." He reached over the low-slung Furtheronian to grasp an inconspicuous panel of curled stainless-steel trim, and gave it a hearty pull. It came away, exposing a pristine metallic surface beneath, in which was set an emergency port. Retief operated the countersunk release lever, and the panel cycled open.

"Neat job," he commented. "Built by a little firm in the Belt owned by a chap named Leatherwell. It would have fooled me if I hadn't once had them run up a fake wreck a lot like this one for my own use." He stepped past Leroy into the spick-and-span interior of a small cargo lock. As Leroy attempted to follow, Retief put a foot between the Creepy's wide-set oculars and pushed. Leroy fell back in a heap, his horny carapace splitting at the impact. A curl of acrid smoke and an angry electronic buzzing emanated from the dark cavity thus revealed, within which vague movements were visible.

"Come on out, Nith," Retief suggested calmly. "The masquerade's over."

"But how ... ?" a faint voice whimpered from the depths of the shattered carapace.

"You were careless," Retief said coldly. "I poked your supposedly sensitive yatz patch three times and got no reaction. A real Creepy would have gone into shock, at least."

"One can't cover everything," the breathy voice said defensively as a skinny leg emerged, groping for purchase. "Is it safe?"

"Come on," Retief urged. "It's not safe, but come on anyway."

"To see your dismembered remains thrown to the tiger ants at Yone." The breathy Groaci voice replied. Then a slight, spindle-legged figure with all five eye stalks laid flat (All Right, This Is It) clambered out through the rent in the false Creepy carapace.

"You're wasting that 79-w on me, Mr. Ambassador," Retief said casually. "The time for idle threats is past. For the moment, if you're very careful to mind your manners, I'll let it ride. Just keep quiet and keep those notoriously sticky fingers of yours to yourself. We're going to look this tub over and make certain everything's shipshape."

"You think to impose conditions on a Groacian Chief of Mission?" Nith/Leroy hissed. "To take care, vile Terry! Should you precipitate

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