[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
"Retief, where are you going?" Magnan
barked as the latter swung over the rail. "You
have the quarterly Report of Redundant Reports
to compile, to say nothing of the redundant
reports themselves...!"
"Duty calls, Mr. Magnan," Retief said
soothingly. "I'm off to a game of sky polo with a
couple of Cabinet Ministers." He waved and set
spurs to his mount, which launched itself with a
bound into the wide green sky.
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Click here to buy
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Pime Doesn't Cray
1
A driving rain lashed the tarmac as Retief
stepped from the shuttlecraft that had ferried
him down to the planetary surface. From the
direction of the low, mushroom-shaped
reception sheds, a slight figure wrapped in a
voluminous black rubber poncho came
splashing toward him, waving excitedly.
"You got any enemies, Mac?" the shuttle
pilot asked nervously, watching the newcomer's
approach.
"A reasonable number," Retief replied,
drawing on his cigar, which sputtered and
hissed as the rain struck the glowing tip.
"However, this is just Counselor Magnan from
the Embassy, here to welcome me to the scene
with the local disaster status, no doubt."
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Click here to buy
Click here to buy
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"No time to waste, Retief," Magnan panted
as he came up. "Ambassador Grossblunder's
called a special staff meeting for five pee em
half an hour from now. If we hurry, we can just
make it. I've already seen to Customs and
Immigration; I knew you'd want to be there, to,
er "
"Share the blame?" Retief suggested.
"Hardly," Magnan corrected, flicking a drop
of moisture from the tip of his nose. "As a matter
of fact, I may well be in line for a word of praise
for my handling of the Cultural Aid Project. It
will be an excellent opportunity for you to get
your feet wet, local scenewise," he amplified,
leading the way toward the Embassy car waiting
beside the sheds.
"According to the latest supplement to the
Post Report," Retief said as they settled
themselves against the deep-pile upholstery,
"the project is scheduled for completion next
week. Nothing's gone wrong with the timetable,
I hope?"
Magnan leaned forward to rap at the glass
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Click here to buy
Click here to buy
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partition dividing the enclosed passenger
compartment from the open-air driver's seat; the
chauffeur, a rather untidy-looking local who
seemed to consist of a snarl of purple macaroni
topped by a peaked cap with a shiny bill, angled
what Retief deduced to be an ear to catch the
Terran's instructions.
"Just swing past the theater on your way
down, Chauncey," Magnan directed. "In answer
to your question," he said complacently to
Retief, "I don't mind saying the project went off
flawlessly, hitchwise. In fact, it's completed a
week early. As Project Director, I fancy it's
something of a feather in my cap, considering
the frightful weather conditions we have to
contend with here on Squale."
"Did you say 'theater'? As I recall, the
original proposal called for the usual Yankee
Stadium-type sports arena."
Magnan smiled loftily. "I thought it time to
vary the program."
"Congratulations, Mr. Magnan." Retief
sketched a salute with his cigar. "I was afraid the
Corps Diplomatique was going to go on forever
a
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Click here to buy
Click here to buy
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.
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.
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inflicting bigger and better baseball
diamonds on defenseless natives, while the
Groaci countered with ever larger and uglier
Bolshoi-type ballet arenas."
"Not this time," Magnan stated with
satisfaction. "I've beaten the scamps at their own
game. This is Top Secret, mind you but this
time we've built the Bolshoi-type ballet theater!"
"A masterful gambit, Mr. Magnan. How are
the Groaci taking it?"
"Hmmph. They've come up with a rather
ingenious counterstroke, I must concede.
Informed opinion has it the copycats are
assembling an imitation Yankee Stadium in
reprisal." Magnan peered out through the
downpour. The irregularly shaped buildings
lining the winding avenue loomed mistily,
obscured by sheets of wind-driven precipitation.
Ahead, a gap in their orderly ranks was visible.
Magnan frowned as the car cruised slowly past a
large, irregularly shaped bulk set well back from
the curb. "Here, Chauncey," he called, "I
instructed you to drive to the project site!"
"Thure shing, moss-ban," a voice like a
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Click here to buy
Click here to buy
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clogged drain replied placatingly. "Weer we
har."
"Chauncey have you been drinking?"
"Woe, nurse luck." Chauncey braked to a
stop; the windshield wipers rotated busily; the
air cushion sighed heavily, driving ripples
across the puddled street. "Book, loss were
right astreet the cross from the Libric Publary,
nicht vahr?"
"The Lublic Pibrary, you mean I mean the
pubic lilberry "
"Yeah, mats what I thean. So there's the
piblary so buts the weef?" Chauncey extended
the cluster of macaroni that served as his hand,
to wave like seaweed in a light current.
"Visibility is simply atrocious here on
Squale," Magnan sniffed, rolling down the
window and recoiling as a blast of rain
splattered his face. "But even so I shouldn't
think I could get confused as to the whereabouts
of my own project..." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl freetocraft.keep.pl
"Retief, where are you going?" Magnan
barked as the latter swung over the rail. "You
have the quarterly Report of Redundant Reports
to compile, to say nothing of the redundant
reports themselves...!"
"Duty calls, Mr. Magnan," Retief said
soothingly. "I'm off to a game of sky polo with a
couple of Cabinet Ministers." He waved and set
spurs to his mount, which launched itself with a
bound into the wide green sky.
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
Pime Doesn't Cray
1
A driving rain lashed the tarmac as Retief
stepped from the shuttlecraft that had ferried
him down to the planetary surface. From the
direction of the low, mushroom-shaped
reception sheds, a slight figure wrapped in a
voluminous black rubber poncho came
splashing toward him, waving excitedly.
"You got any enemies, Mac?" the shuttle
pilot asked nervously, watching the newcomer's
approach.
"A reasonable number," Retief replied,
drawing on his cigar, which sputtered and
hissed as the rain struck the glowing tip.
"However, this is just Counselor Magnan from
the Embassy, here to welcome me to the scene
with the local disaster status, no doubt."
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
"No time to waste, Retief," Magnan panted
as he came up. "Ambassador Grossblunder's
called a special staff meeting for five pee em
half an hour from now. If we hurry, we can just
make it. I've already seen to Customs and
Immigration; I knew you'd want to be there, to,
er "
"Share the blame?" Retief suggested.
"Hardly," Magnan corrected, flicking a drop
of moisture from the tip of his nose. "As a matter
of fact, I may well be in line for a word of praise
for my handling of the Cultural Aid Project. It
will be an excellent opportunity for you to get
your feet wet, local scenewise," he amplified,
leading the way toward the Embassy car waiting
beside the sheds.
"According to the latest supplement to the
Post Report," Retief said as they settled
themselves against the deep-pile upholstery,
"the project is scheduled for completion next
week. Nothing's gone wrong with the timetable,
I hope?"
Magnan leaned forward to rap at the glass
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
partition dividing the enclosed passenger
compartment from the open-air driver's seat; the
chauffeur, a rather untidy-looking local who
seemed to consist of a snarl of purple macaroni
topped by a peaked cap with a shiny bill, angled
what Retief deduced to be an ear to catch the
Terran's instructions.
"Just swing past the theater on your way
down, Chauncey," Magnan directed. "In answer
to your question," he said complacently to
Retief, "I don't mind saying the project went off
flawlessly, hitchwise. In fact, it's completed a
week early. As Project Director, I fancy it's
something of a feather in my cap, considering
the frightful weather conditions we have to
contend with here on Squale."
"Did you say 'theater'? As I recall, the
original proposal called for the usual Yankee
Stadium-type sports arena."
Magnan smiled loftily. "I thought it time to
vary the program."
"Congratulations, Mr. Magnan." Retief
sketched a salute with his cigar. "I was afraid the
Corps Diplomatique was going to go on forever
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
inflicting bigger and better baseball
diamonds on defenseless natives, while the
Groaci countered with ever larger and uglier
Bolshoi-type ballet arenas."
"Not this time," Magnan stated with
satisfaction. "I've beaten the scamps at their own
game. This is Top Secret, mind you but this
time we've built the Bolshoi-type ballet theater!"
"A masterful gambit, Mr. Magnan. How are
the Groaci taking it?"
"Hmmph. They've come up with a rather
ingenious counterstroke, I must concede.
Informed opinion has it the copycats are
assembling an imitation Yankee Stadium in
reprisal." Magnan peered out through the
downpour. The irregularly shaped buildings
lining the winding avenue loomed mistily,
obscured by sheets of wind-driven precipitation.
Ahead, a gap in their orderly ranks was visible.
Magnan frowned as the car cruised slowly past a
large, irregularly shaped bulk set well back from
the curb. "Here, Chauncey," he called, "I
instructed you to drive to the project site!"
"Thure shing, moss-ban," a voice like a
a
a
T
T
n
n
s
s
F
F
f
f
o
o
D
D
r
r
P
P
m
m
Y
Y
e
e
Y
Y
r
r
B
B
2
2
.
.
B
B
A
A
Click here to buy
Click here to buy
w
w
m
m
w
w
o
o
w
w
c
c
.
.
.
.
A
A
Y
Y
B
B
Y
Y
B
B
r r
clogged drain replied placatingly. "Weer we
har."
"Chauncey have you been drinking?"
"Woe, nurse luck." Chauncey braked to a
stop; the windshield wipers rotated busily; the
air cushion sighed heavily, driving ripples
across the puddled street. "Book, loss were
right astreet the cross from the Libric Publary,
nicht vahr?"
"The Lublic Pibrary, you mean I mean the
pubic lilberry "
"Yeah, mats what I thean. So there's the
piblary so buts the weef?" Chauncey extended
the cluster of macaroni that served as his hand,
to wave like seaweed in a light current.
"Visibility is simply atrocious here on
Squale," Magnan sniffed, rolling down the
window and recoiling as a blast of rain
splattered his face. "But even so I shouldn't
think I could get confused as to the whereabouts
of my own project..." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]