“A slippery diplomat, by all the houris in Paradise!” he grated, breathing hard. “But a fool. True to your medieval code of chivalry, you attacked singly, a blunder I would never have made. And you shall die for your idiocy!” He opened his mouth to bellow—
“You sure look foolish, with your fancy hair-do down in your eyes,” Retief said. “The servants will get a big laugh out of that—”
With a choked yell, the Aga Kaga dived for Retief, missed as he leaped aside. The two went to the mat together, rolled, sending a stool skittering. Grunts and curses were heard as the two big men strained, muscles popping. Retief groped for a scissors hold; the Aga Kaga seized his foot, bit hard. Retief bent nearly double, braced himself, and slammed the potentate against the rug. Dust flew. Then the two were on their feet, circling.
“Many times have I longed to broil a diplomat over a slow fire,” the Aga Kaga snarled. “Tonight will see it come to pass . . .”
“I’ve seen it done often at staff meetings,” said Retief. “It seems to have no permanent effect—”
The Aga Kaga reached for Retief, who feinted left, hammered a right to the chin. The Aga Kaga tottered. Retief measured him, brought up a haymaker. The potentate slammed to the rug—out cold.
Georges rolled over, sat up. “Let me at the son of a—” he muttered.
“Take over, Georges,” Retief said, panting. “Since he’s in a mood to negotiate now, we may as well get something accomplished.”
Georges eyed the fallen ruler, who stirred, groaned lugubriously. “I hope you know what you’re doing. But I’m with you in any case.” Georges straddled the prone body, plucked a curved knife from the low table, prodded the Aga Kaga’s Adam’s apple. He groaned again and opened his eyes.
“Make one little peep and your wind-bag will spring a leak,” Georges said. “Very few historical figures have accomplished anything important after their throats were cut.”
“Stanley won’t yell,” Retief said. “We’re not the only ones who’re guilty of cultural idiocy. He’d lose face something awful if he let his followers see him like this.” Retief settled himself on a tufted ottoman. “Right, Stanley?”
The Aga Kaga snarled.
Retief selected a grape, ate it thoughtfully. “These aren’t bad, Georges. You might consider taking on a few Aga Kagan vine-growers—purely on a yearly contract basis, of course.”
The Aga Kaga groaned, rolling his eyes.
“Well, I believe we’re ready to get down to diplomatic proceedings now,” Retief said. “Nothing like dealing in an atmosphere of realistic good-fellowship. First, of course, there’s the matter of the presence of aliens lacking visas.” He opened his briefcase, withdrew a heavy sheet of parchment. “I have the document here, drawn up and ready for signature. It provides for the prompt deportation of such persons, by Corps Transport, all expenses to be borne by the Aga Kagan government. That’s agreeable, I think?” Retief looked expectantly at the purple face of the prone potentate. The Aga Kaga grunted a strangled grunt.
“Speak up, Stanley,” Retief said. “Give him plenty of air, Georges.”
“Shall I let some in through the side?”
“Not yet. I’m sure Stanley wants to be agreeable.”
The Aga Kaga snarled.
“Maybe just a little then, Georges,” Retief said judiciously. Georges jabbed the knife in far enough to draw a bead of blood. The Aga Kaga grunted.
“Agreed!” he snorted. “By the beard of the Prophet, when I get my hands on you . . .”
“Second item: certain fields, fishing grounds, et cetera, have suffered damage due to the presence of the aforementioned illegal immigrants. Full compensation will be made by the Aga Kagan government. Agreed?”
The Aga Kaga drew a breath, tensed himself; Georges jabbed with the knife point. His prisoner relaxed with a groan. “Agreed!” he grated. “A vile tactic! You enter my tent under the guise of guests, protected by diplomatic immunity—”
“I had the impression we were herded in here at sword point,” said Retief. “Shall we go on? Now, there’s the little matter of restitution for violation of sovereignty, reparations for mental anguish, payment for damaged fences, roads, drainage canals, communications, et cetera, et cetera. Shall I read them all?”
“Wait until the news of this outrage is spread abroad—”
“They’d never believe it. History would prove it impossible. And on mature consideration, I’m sure you won’t want it noised about that you entertained visiting dignitaries flat on your back.”
“What about the pollution of the atmosphere by goats?” Georges put in. “And don’t overlook the muddying of streams, the destruction of valuable timber for camp fires, and—”
“I’ve covered all that sort of thing under a miscellaneous heading,” Retief said. “We can fill it in at leisure when we get back.”
“Bandits!” the Aga Kaga hissed. “Thieves! Dogs of unreliable imperialists!”
“It’s disillusioning, I know,” Retief said. “Still, of such little surprises is history made. Sign here.” He held the parchment out and offered a pen. “A nice clear signature, please. We wouldn’t want any quibbling about the legality of the treaty, after conducting the negotiation with such scrupulous regard for the niceties.”
“Niceties! Never in history has such an abomination been perpetrated!”
“Oh, treaties are always worked out this way, when it comes right down to it. We’ve just accelerated the process a little. Now, if you’ll just sign like a good fellow, we’ll be on our way. Georges will have his work cut out for him, planning how to use all this reparations money.”
The Aga Kaga gnashed his teeth; Georges prodded. The Aga Kaga seized the pen and scrawled his name. Retief signed with a flourish. He tucked the treaty away in his briefcase, took out another paper.
“This is just a safe-conduct, to get us out of the door and into the car,” he said. “Probably unnecessary, but it won’t hurt to have it, in case you figure out some way to avoid your obligations as a host.”
The Aga Kaga signed the document after another prod from Georges.
“One more paper, and I’ll be into the jugular,” he said.
“We’re all through now,” said Retief. “Stanley, we’re going to have to run now. I’m going to strap up your hands and feet a trifle; it shouldn’t take you more than ten minutes or so to get loose, stick a band-aid over that place on your neck, and get back in your grape-eating pose.”
“My men will cut you down for the rascals you are!”
“—By that time, we’ll be over the hill,” Retief continued. “At full throttle, we’ll be at Government House in an hour, and of course I won’t waste any time transmitting the treaty to Sector HQ. And the same concern for face that keeps you from yelling for help will ensure that the details of the negotiation remain our secret.”
“Treaty! That scrap of paper—”
“I confess the Corps is a little sluggish about taking action at times,” Retief said, whipping a turn of silken cord around the Aga Kaga’s ankles. “But once it’s got signatures on a legal treaty, it’s extremely stubborn about all parties’ adhering to the letter. It can’t afford to be otherwise, as I’m sure you’ll understand.” He cinched up the cord, went to work on the hands. The Aga Kaga glared at him balefully.
“To the Pit with the Corps! The ferocity of my revenge—”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Stanley. There are several squadrons of Peace Enforcers cruising in the Sector just now. I’m sure you’re not ready to make any historical errors by taking them on.” Retief finished and stood up.
“Georges, just stuff a scarf in Stanley’s mouth. I think he’d prefer to work quietly until he recovers his dignity.” Retief buckled his briefcase, selected a large grape, and looked down at the Aga Kaga.
“Actually, you’ll be glad you saw things our way, Stanley,” he said. “You’ll get all the credit for the generous settlement. Of course, it will be a striking precedent for any other negotiations that may become necessary if you get grabby on other worlds in this region. And if your advisors want to know why the sudden change of heart, just tell them you’ve decided to start from scratch on an unoccupied world. Mention the virtues of thrift and hard work. I’m confident you can find plenty of historical examples to support you.”
“Thanks for the drink,” said Georges. “Drop in on me at Government House some time and we’ll crack another bottle.”
“And don’t feel bad about your project’s going awry,” said Retief. “In the words of the Prophet, `Stolen goods are never sold at a loss.’ ”
* * *
“A remarkable about-face, Retief,” Magnan said. “Let this be a lesson to you. A stern Note of Protest can work wonders.”
“A lot depends on the method of delivery,” Retief said.
“Nonsense. I knew all along the Aga Kagans were a reasonable, peace-loving people. One of the advantages of senior rank, of course, is the opportunity to see the big picture. Why, I was saying only this morning—”