Retief by Keith Laumer

Author:Keith Laumer [Laumer, Keith]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-05-13T14:53:42.207000+00:00

UNIDENTIFIED CONVOY COMPRISING FIFTY UHLAN CLASS VESSELS

SIGHTED ON COURSE FOR YALC III ETA 1500 GST 33 OCT GSC. SIGNED

POMFROY, ENSIGN PATROL NAVY 786-G.

"Uhlans," Retief said. "Those are thousand-man transports. And oh-nine-hundred on the

thirty-third is just about two hours from now."

"This could be an invasion, Retief! A major breach of the peace! Can you imagine how it

would look in my record if the planet were invaded under my very nose!"

"Tough on the natives, too," Retief commented. "What action have you taken so far?"

"Action? Why, I've canceled this afternoon's social engagements, checked out-going

passenger schedules, and sharpened a number of pencils."

"Have you tried contacting this Ensign Pomfroy for a little more detail?"

"There's no one on duty in the Message Center but a local Code Clerk; he's trying to raise him

now." Magnan depressed a button on his desk. "Oo-Gilitit, have you met with any success?"

"Pomfroy-Tic all same have organ cluster up ventral orifice—"

"Gilitit, I've warned you to watch your language!" Magnan roared. "It's no habit for a

communications man to get into!" He clicked off. "Confounded locals! It's hopeless, of course;

our equipment was never designed for pin-pointing moving patrol boats at four A-U's."

"How do the Yalcans feel about the situation?"

Magnan blinked. "Why, as to that, I, ah . . . was just going to call Oo-Rilikuk." Magnan

punched keys, tuned in a bland yellow and blue face with eyes like gold pinheads and verticallyhinged jaws busy with an oily drumstick.

"Ah, there, Magnan," a voice like an unoiled wheel said. "Just finishing up my lunch. Roast

haunch of giant locust. Delicious." A tongue like a length of green silken rope flicked a tidbit

from a corner of the lipless mouth.

"Oo-Rilikuk, do you know anything of a large convoy due here today?"

Rilikuk dabbed at his chin with a gossamer napkin. "I seem to recall issuing a number of visas

to Groaci nationals in recent weeks."

"Groaci? Fifty shiploads of them?"

"Something like that," the Yalcan said carelessly. "By the way, if you haven't already made

arrangements, perhaps you'd care to join my Bachelor's Group for the upcoming festivities—"

"You're not concerned? Perhaps you're not aware of the insidious reputation the Groaci

enjoy—"

"I don't mind saying I've exercised a trifle of influence to procure a choice mud pocket; the

rich, oleaginous kind, you know. And there'll be no shortage of nubile females along—though

you're not organized to appreciate the latter, it's true—"

"May I ask the state of the planetary defenses, Rilikuk? I'm warning you, these Groaci are not

to be trusted—"

"Planetary defenses?" Rilikuk issued a chirp of amusement. "As confirmed pacifists, we've

never felt the need for such an extravagance. Now, I'll be leaving the office in a few minutes;

suppose I drop by for you—we'll go on to my place for dinner, then off to the bog—"

"You're leaving the Foreign Office at a moment like this?" Magnan yelped. "They'll be

landing in a matter of minutes!"

"I fear I'll have no time to devote to tourism this week, Magnan," Rilikuk said. "They'll just

have to manage alone. After all, Voom Festival time comes but once in ninety-four standard

years—"

Magnan rang off with a snort. "We'll receive scant help from that quarter.

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