Retief Unbound (13 page)

"Not to be going anywhere for
a few minutes," he said. "To stay right here and have a nice long
talk."

"There you are!" Miss
Meuhl said, eyeing Retief over her lenses. "There are two gentlemen
waiting to see you. Groacian gentlemen."

"Government men, I imagine.
Word travels fast." Retief pulled off his cape. "This saves me the
trouble of paying another call at the Foreign Ministry."

"What have you been doing?
They seem very upset, I don't mind telling you."

"I'm sure you don't Come
along—and bring an official recorder."

Two Groaci, wearing heavy
eye-shields and elaborate crest ornaments indicative of rank, rose as Retief
entered the room. Neither offered a courteous snap of the mandibles, Retief
noted; they were mad, all right.

"I am Fith, of the Terrestrial
Desk, Ministry of Foreign Affairs," the taller Groacian said, in lisping
Terran. "May I present Shluh, of the Internal Police."

"Sit down, gentlemen,"
Retief said. They resumed their seats. Miss Meuhl hovered nervously, then sat
down on the edge of a chair.

"Oh, it's such a
pleasure—" she began.

"Never mind that," Retief
said. "These gentlemen didn't come here to sip tea today."

"True," Fith rasped.
"Frankly, I have had a most disturbing report, Mr. Consul. I shall ask
Shluh to recount it." He nodded to the police chief.

"One hour ago," Shluh
said, "a Groacian national was brought to hospital suffering from serious
contusions. Questioning of this individual revealed that he had been set upon
and beaten by a foreigner; a Terrestrial, to be precise. Investigation by my
Department indicates that the description of the culprit closely matches that
of the Terrestrial Consul. . . ."

Miss Meuhl gasped audibly.

"Have you ever heard,"
Retief said, looking steadily at Fith, "of a Terrestrial cruiser, the
ISV
Terrific
, which dropped from sight in this sector nine years
ago?"

"Really!" Miss Meuhl
exclaimed, rising, "I wash my hands—"

"Just keep that recorder
going," Retief snapped.

"I'll not be a party—"

"You'll do as you're told,
Miss Meuhl," Retief said quietly. "I'm telling you to make an
official sealed record of this conversation."

Miss Meuhl sat down.

Fith puffed out his throat
indignantly. "You re-open an old wound, Mr. Consul. It reminds us of
certain illegal treatment at Terrestrial hands."

"Hogwash," Retief said.
"That tune went over with my predecessors, but it hits a sour note with
me."

"All our efforts," Miss
Meuhl said, "to live down that terrible episode; and you—"

"Terrible? I understand that a
Terrestrial Peace Enforcer stood off Groac and sent a delegation down to ask
questions. They got some funny answers and stayed on to dig around a little.
After a week, they left. Somewhat annoying to you Groaci, if you were
innocent—"

"If!"
Miss Meuhl burst out.

"If, indeed," Fith said,
his weak voice trembling. "I must protest your—"

"Save your protests, Fith. You
have some explaining to do, and I don't think your story will be good
enough."

"It is for you to explain;
this person who was beaten—"

"Not beaten; just rapped a few
times to loosen his memory."

"Then you admit—"

"It worked, too. He remembered
lots of things, once he put his mind to it."

Fith rose; Shluh followed suit.

"I shall ask for your
immediate recall, Mr. Consul. Were it not for your diplomatic immunity, I
should—"

"Why did the Government fall,
Fith, just after the Task Force paid its visit, and before the arrival of the
first Terrestrial diplomatic mission?"

"This is an internal
matter," Fith cried, in his faint Groacian voice. "The new regime has
shown itself most amiable to you Terrestrials; it has outdone itself—"

"—to keep the Terrestrial
Consul and his staff in the dark," Retief said, "and the same goes
for the few Terrestrial businessmen you've given visas. This continual round of
culture; no social contacts outside the diplomatic circle; no travel permits to
visit outlying districts or your satellite—"

"Enough!" Fith's mandibles
quivered in distress. "I can talk no more of this matter."

"You'll talk to me, or
there'll be a squadron of Peace Enforcers here in five days to do the
talking," Retief said.

"You can't—" Miss Meuhl
gasped.

Retief turned a steady look on Miss
Meuhl. She closed her mouth. The Groaci sat down.

"Answer me this one,"
Retief said, looking at Shluh. "A few years back—nine, to be exact—there
was a little parade held here. Some curious-looking creatures were captured,
and after being securely caged, were exhibited to the gentle Groacian public.
Hauled through the streets. Very educational, no doubt. A highly cultural show.

"Funny thing about these
animals: they wore clothes, seemed to communicate with each other. Altogether a
very amusing exhibit.

"Tell me, Shluh, what happened
to those six Terrestrials after the parade was over?"

Fith made a choked noise, then
spoke rapidly to Shluh in Groacian. Shluh, retracting his eyes, shrank down in
his chair. Miss Meuhl opened her mouth, then closed it.

"How did they die?"
Retief snapped. "Did you cut their throats, shoot them, bury them alive?
What amusing end did you figure out for them? Research, maybe. Cut them open to
see what made them
yell. ..."

"No," Fith gasped.
"I must correct this terrible false impression at once."

"False impression, hell,"
Retief said. "They were Terrans; a simple narco-interrogation would get
that out of any Groacian who saw the parade."

"Yes," Fith said weakly.
"It is true, they were Terrestrials. But there was no killing—"

"They're alive?"

"Alas, no.
They .. .
died."

"I see," Retief said.
"They died."

"We tried to keep them alive,
of course; but we did not know what foods—"

"Didn't take the trouble to
find out."

"They fell ill," Fith
said. "One by one . .

"We'll deal with that question
later," Retief said. "Right now, I want more information. Where did
you get them? Where did you hide the ship? What happened to the rest of the
crew? Did they 'fall ill' before the big parade?"

"There were no more!
Absolutely, I assure you!"

"Killed in the crash
landing?"

"No crash landing. The ship
descended intact, east of the city. The . . . Terrestrials . . . were unharmed.
Naturally, we feared them; they were strange to us. We had never before seen
such beings."

"Stepped off the ship with guns
blazing, did they?"

"Guns? No, no guns—"

"They raised their hands,
didn't they, asked for help? You helped them; helped them to death."

"How could we know?" Fith
moaned.

"How could you know a flotilla
would show up in a few months looking for them, you mean? That was a shock,
wasn't it? I’ll bet you had a brisk time of it hiding the ship, and shutting
everybody up. A close call, eh?"

"We were afraid," Shluh
said. "We are a simple people. We feared the strange creatures from the
alien craft. We did not kill them, but we felt it was as well that they . . .
did not survive. Then, when the warships came, we realized our error, but we
feared to speak. We purged our guilty leaders, concealed what had happened, and
. . . offered our friendship. We invited the opening of diplomatic relations.
We made a blunder, it is true, a great blunder. But we have tried to make
amends . .."

"Where is the ship?"

"The ship?"

"What did you do with it? It
was too big to just walk off and forget. Where is it?"

The two Groacians exchanged looks.

"We wish to show our
contrition," Fith said. "We will show you the ship."

"Miss Meuhl," Retief
said. "If I don't come back in a reasonable length of time, transmit that
recording to Sector Headquarters, sealed." He stood and looked at the Groaci

"Let's go," he said.

Retief stooped under the heavy
timbers shoring the entry to the cavern and peered into the gloom at the
curving flank of the space-burned hull.

"Any lights in here?" he
asked.

A Groacian threw a switch and a
weak bluish glow sprang up. Retief walked along the raised wooden catwalk,
studying the ship. Empty emplacements gaped below lenseless scanner eyes.
Littered decking was visible within the half-open entry port. Near the bow the
words 'IVS
Terrific B7 New Terra'
were lettered in bright chrome duralloy.

"How did you get it in
here?" Retief asked.

"It was hauled here from the
landing point, some nine miles distant," Fith said, his voice thinner than
ever. "This is a natural crevasse; the vessel was lowered into it and
roofed over."

"How did you shield it so the
detectors didn't pick it up?"

"All here is high-grade
iron-ore," Fith said, waving a member. "Great veins of almost pure
metal."

"Let's go inside."

Shluh came forward with a
hand-lamp. The party entered the ship. Retief clambered up a narrow companion
way and glanced around the interior of the control compartment. Dust was thick
on the deck, the stanchions where acceleration couches had been mounted, the
empty instrument panels, the litter of sheared bolts, and on scraps of wire and
paper. A thin frosting of rust dulled the exposed metal where cutting torches
had sliced away heavy shielding. There was a faint odor of stale bedding.

"The cargo compartment—"
Shluh began.

"I've seen enough,"
Retief said. Silently, the Groacians led the way back out through the tunnel
and into the late afternoon sunshine. As they climbed the slope to the steam
car, Fith came to Retief s side.

"Indeed I hope that this will
be the end of this unfortunate affair," he said. "Now that all has
been fully and honestly shown."

"You can slap all that,"
Retief said. "You're nine years late. The crew was still alive when the
Task Force called, I imagine. You killed them—or let them die—rather than take
the chance of admitting what you'd done."

"We were at fault," Fith
said abjectly. "Now we wish only friendship."

"The
Terrific
was a heavy cruiser, about twenty thousand tons."
Retief looked grimly at the slender Foreign Office official. "Where is
she, Fith? I won't settle for a hundred- ton lifeboat."

Fith erected his eye stalks so
violently that one eye-shield fell off.

"I know nothing of . . . of .
. ." He stopped. His throat vibrated rapidly as he struggled for calm.

"My government can entertain
no further accusations, Mr. Consul," he said at last. "I have been
completely candid with you, I have overlooked your probing into matters not
properly within your sphere of responsibility. My patience is at an end."

"Where is that ship?"
Retief rapped out. "You never learn, do you? You're still convinced you
can hide the whole thing and forget it. I'm telling you you can't."

"We return to the city
now," Fith said. "I can do no more."

"You can and you will,
Fith," Retief said. "I intend to get to the truth of this matter."

Fith spoke to Shluh in rapid
Groacian. The police chief gestured to his four armed constables. They moved to
ring Retief in.

Retief eyed Fith. "Don't try
it," he said. "You'll just get yourself in deeper."

Fith clacked his mandibles angrily,
his eye stalks canted aggressively toward the Terrestrial.

"Out of deference to your
diplomatic status, Terrestrial, I shall ignore your insulting
implications," Fith said in his reedy voice. "We will now return to
the city."

Retief looked at the four
policemen. "Sure," he said. "We'll cover the details
later."

Fith followed him into the car and
sat rigidly at the far end of the seat.

"I advise you to remain very
close to your Consulate," Fith said. "I advise you to dismiss these
fancies from your mind, and to enjoy the cultural aspects of life at Groac. Especially,
I should not venture out of the city, or appear overly curious about matters of
concern only to the Groacian government."

In the front seat, Shluh looked
straight ahead. The loosely- sprung vehicle bobbed and swayed along the narrow
highway. Retief listened to the rhythmic puffing of the motor and said
nothing.

"Miss Meuhl," Retief
said, "I want you to listen carefully to what I'm going to tell you. I
have to move rapidly now, to catch the Groaci off guard."