Retief Unbound (15 page)

"A pleasure to deal with you,
Madam."

The police car started up and
pulled away. The Peace Keeper in the front seat turned to look at Retief.

"To have some sport with it,
and then to kill it," he said.

"To have a fair trial
first," Shluh said. The car rocked and jounced, rounded a corner, and puffed
along between ornamented pastel facades.

"To have a trial and then to
have a bit of sport," the Peace Keeper said.

"To suck the eggs in your own
hill," Retief said. "To make another stupid mistake."

Shluh raised his short ceremonial
club and cracked Retief across the head. Retief shook his head, tensed—

The Peace Keeper in the front seat
beside the driver turned and rammed the barrel of his scatter gun against
Retief s ribs.

"To make no move,
outworlder," he said. Shluh raised his club and carefully struck Retief
again. He slumped.

The car, swaying, rounded another
corner. Retief slid over against the police chief.

"To fend this animal—"
Shluh began. His weak voice was cut off short as Retief's hand shot out, took
him by the throat, and snapped him down onto the floor. As the guard on
Retief's left lunged, Retief uppercut him, slamming his head against the door
post. Retief grabbed the guard's scatter gun as it fell, and pushed it into the
mandibles of the Groacian in the front seat.

"To put your pop-gun over the
seat—carefully—and drop it," he said.

The driver slammed on his brakes,
then whirled to raise his gun. Retief cracked a gun barrel against the head of
the Groacian.

"To keep your eye-stalks on
the road," he said. The driver grabbed at the tiller and shrank against
the window, watching Retief with one eye, driving with another.

"To gun this thing,"
Retief said. "To keep moving."

Shluh stirred on the floor. Retief
put a foot on him, pressing him back. The Peace Keeper beside Retief moved.
Retief pushed him off the seat onto the floor. He held the scatter gun with one
hand and mopped at the blood on his face with the other. The car bounded over
the irregular surface of the road, puffing furiously.

"Your death will not be an
easy one, Terrestrial," Shluh said in Terran.

"No easier than I can
help," Retief said. "Shut up for now, I want to think."

The car, passing the last of the
relief-encrusted mounds, sped along between tilled fields.

"Slow down," Retief said.
The driver obeyed.

"Turn down this side
road."

The car bumped off onto an unpaved
surface, then threaded its way back among tall stalks.

"Stop here." The car
stopped, blew off steam, and sat trembling as the hot engine idled.

Retief opened the door, taking his
foot off Shluh.

"Sit up," he ordered.
"You two in front listen carefully." Shluh sat up, rubbing his
throat.

"Three of you are getting out
here. Good old Shluh is going to stick around to drive for me. If I get that
nervous feeling that you're after me, I'll toss him out. That will be pretty
messy, at high speed. Shluh, tell them to sit tight until dark and forget
about sounding any alarms. I'd hate to see you split open and spill all over
the pavement," "To burst your throat sac, evil-smelling beast!"
Shluh hissed in Groacian.

"Sorry, I haven't got
one." Retief put the gun under Shluh's ear. "Tell them, Shluh; I can
drive myself, in a pinch."

"To do as the foreign one
says; to stay hidden until dark," Shluh said.

"Everybody out," Retief
said. "And take this with you." He nudged the unconscious Groacian.
"Shluh, you get in the driver's seat. You others stay where I can see
you."

Retief watched as the Groaci
silently followed instructions.

"All right, Shluh,"
Retief said softly. "Let's go. Take me to Groac Spaceport by the shortest
route that doesn't go through the city, and be very careful about making any
sudden movements."

Forty minutes later Shluh steered
the car up to the sentry-guarded gate in the security fence surrounding the
military enclosure at Groac Spaceport.

"Don't yield to any rash
impulses," Retief whispered as a crested Groacian soldier came up. Shluh
grated his mandibles in helpless fury.

"Drone-master Shluh, Internal
Security," he croaked. The guard tilted his eyes toward Retief.

"The guest of the
Autonomy," Shluh added. "To let me pass or to rot in this spot,
fool?"

"To pass, Drone-master,"
the sentry mumbled. He was still staring at Retief as the car moved jerkily
away.

"You are as good as pegged-out
on the hill in the pleasure pits now, Terrestrial," Shluh said in Terran.
"Why do you venture here?"

"Pull over there in the shadow
of the tower and stop," Retief said.

Shluh complied. Retief studied a
row of four slender ships silhouetted against the early dawn colors of the sky.

"Which of those boats are
ready to lift?" Retief demanded.

Shluh swiveled a choleric eye.

"All of them are shuttles;
they have no range. They will not help you."

To answer the question, Shluh, or
to get another crack on the head."

"You are not like other
Terrestrials, you are a mad dog."

"We'll rough out a character
sketch of me later. Are they fueled up? You know the procedures here. Did those
shuttles just get in, or is that the ready line?"

"Yes. All are fueled and ready
for take-off."

"I hope you're right, Shluh.
You and I are going to drive over and get in one; if it doesn't lift, 111 kill
you and try the next one. Let's go."

"You are mad. I have told you:
these boats have not more than ten thousand ton-seconds capacity; they are
useful only for satellite runs."

"Never mind the details. Let's
try the first in line."

Shluh let in the clutch and the
steam car clanked and heaved, rolling off toward the line of boats.

"Not the first in line,"
Shluh said suddenly. "The last is the most likely to be fueled. But—"

"Smart grasshopper,"
Retief said. "Pull up to the entry port, hop out, and go right up. I'll be
right behind you."

"The gangway guard. The
challenging of—"

"More details. Just give him a
dirty look and say what's necessary. You know the technique."

The car passed under the stern of
the first Boat, then the second. There was no alarm. It rounded the third and
shuddered to a stop by the open port of the last vessel.

"Out," Retief said.
"To make it snappy."

Shluh stepped from the car,
hesitated as the guard came to attention, then hissed at him and mounted the
steps. The guard looked wonderingly at Retief, mandibles slack.

"An outworlder!" he said.
He unlimbered his scatter gun. "To stop here, meat-faced one."

Up ahead, Shluh turned.

"To snap to attention,
litter-mate of drones." Retief rasped in Groacian. The guard jumped, waved
his eye stalks, and came to attention.

"About face!" Retief
hissed. "To hell out of here—march!"

The guard tramped off across the
ramp. Retief took the steps two at a time, slammed the port shut behind
himself.

"I'm glad your boys have a
little discipline, Shluh," Retief said. "What did you say to
him?"

"I but-"

"Never mind. We're in. Get up
to the control compartment."

"What do you know of Groacian
Naval vessels?"

"Plenty. This is a straight
copy from the life boat you lads hijacked. I can run it. Get going."

Retief followed Shluh up the
companionway into the cramped control room.

"Tie in, Shluh," Retief
ordered.

"This is insane. We have only
fuel enough for a one-way transit to the satellite; we cannot enter orbit, nor
can we land again! To lift this boat is death. Release me. I promise you
immunity."

"If I have to tie you in
myself, I might bend your head in the process."

Shluh crawled onto the couch, and
strapped in.

"Give it up," he said.
"I will see that you are re-instated— with honor. I will guarantee a
safe-conduct—"

"Count-down," Retief
said. He threw in the autopilot.

"It is death!" Shluh
screeched.

The gyros hummed, timers ticked,
relays closed. Retief lay relaxed on the acceleration pad. Shluh breathed
noisily, his mandibles clicking rapidly.

"That I had fled in
time," he said in a hoarse whisper. "This is not a good death."

"No death is a good
death," Retief said, "not for a while yet." The red light
flashed on in the center of the panel, and sound roared out into the breaking
day. The ship trembled, then lifted. Retief could hear Shluh's whimpering even
through the roar of the drive.

"Perihelion," Shluh said
dully. "To begin now the long fall back."

"Not quite," Retief said.
"I figure eighty-five seconds to go." He scanned the instruments,
frowning.

"We will not reach the
surface, of course," Shluh said.

"the pips on the screen are
missiles. We have a rendezvous in space, Retief. In your madness, may you be
content."

"They're fifteen minutes
behind us, Shluh. Your defenses are sluggish."

"Nevermore to burrow in the
grey sands of Groac," Shluh mourned.

Retief's eyes were fixed on a dial
face.

"Any time now," he said
softly. Shluh canted his eye stalks.

"What do you seek?" ,

Retief stiffened. "Look at the
screen," he said. Shluh looked. A glowing point, off-center, moving
rapidly across the grid . . .

"What-?"

"Later-"

Shluh watched as Retief's eyes
darted from one needle to another.

"How ..."

"For your own neck's sake,
Shluh, you'd better hope this works." He flipped the sending key.

"2396 TR-42 G, this is the
Terrestrial Consul at Groac, aboard Groac 902, vectoring on you at an MP fix of
91/ 54/942. Can you read me? Over."

"What forlorn gesture is
this?" Shluh whispered. "You cry in the night to emptiness."

"Button your mandibles,"
Retief snapped, listening. There was a faint hum of stellar background noise.
Retief repeated his call.

"Maybe they hear but can't
answer," he muttered. He flipped the key.

"2396, you've got forty
seconds to lock a tractor beam on me, before I shoot past you."

"To call into the void,"
said Shluh. "To—"

"Look at the DV screen."

Shluh twisted his head and looked.
Against the background mist of stars, a shape loomed, dark and inert.

"It
is ...
a ship," he said, "a monster
ship . . ."

"That's her," Retief
said. "Nine years and a few months out of New Terra on a routine mapping
mission; the missing cruiser,
IVS
Terrific."

"Impossible," Shluh
hissed. "The hulk swings in a deep cometary orbit."

"Right, and now it's making
its close swing past Groac."

"You think to match orbits
with the derelict? Without power? Our meeting will be a violent one, if that is
your intent."

"We won't hit; we'll make our
pass at about five thousand yards."

"To what end, Terrestrial? You
have found your lost ship; what then? Is this glimpse worth the death we
die?"

"Maybe they're not dead,"
Retief said.

"Not dead?" Shluh lapsed
into Groacian. "To have died in the burrow of one's youth. To have burst
my throat sac before I embarked with a mad alien to call up the dead."

"2396, make it snappy,"
Retief called. The speaker crackled heedlessly. The dark image on the screen
drifted past, dwindling now.

"Nine years, and the mad one
speaking as to friends," Shluh raved. "Nine years dead, and still to
seek them."

"Another ten seconds,"
Retief said softly, "and we're out of range. Look alive, boys."

"Was this your plan,
Retief?" Shluh reverted to Terran. "Did you flee Groac and risk all
on this slender thread?"

"How long would I have lasted
in a Groaci prison?"

"Long and long, my
Retief," Shluh hissed, "under the blade of an artist."

Abruptly the ship trembled, seemed
to drag, rolling the two passengers in their couches. Shluh hissed as the
restraining harness cut into him. The shuttle boat was pivoting heavily,
up-ending. Crushing acceleration forces built. Shluh gasped, crying out
shrilly.

"What... is ... it. .. r