Five
At once, a dozen torches flared ahead; Retief looked around at a sprawling collection of wide mud and leaf sheds spotted at random under the shelter of a grove of vast green-barked nicklewood trees. There was a wide yard, beaten to concrete smoothness by heavy wheels; about it were parked a dozen massive, low-slung creatures, five feet at the shoulder and ten feet long, with dusty magenta back plates, foot-thick rear wheels a yard in diameter, and a pair of smaller wheels forward, evolved from the lower pair of arms. The upper arms, flexible and spade-tipped, were coiled under the wide, flat duckbilled heads.
“Well?” the same voice, like heavy syrup, insisted. “I hope you have some excuse for bursting in on our nightly contemplation hour!”
“Just leaving, big boy,” Jik-jik spun his wheels backward, raising dust that roiled in the torchlight. With a low rumble, a pair of Jackoo wheeled to cut off retreat. Another pair gave low, rumbling honks, took up positions flanking the intruders on the left. More Jackoo appeared from the darkness and still more emerged from shelter among the trees ringing the yard.
“Not in such a darned hurry, skinny-wheels,” the Jackoo purred. “Before I roll you out into a pretty orange rug, I’d like to know what you thought you could snitch here.”
“I’m looking for a missing party of Terrans,” Retief said. “Have you seen them?”
“Terrans? What on Quopp are those?”
“A type of Stilter; they look a little like me, actually, except that they have tender skins.”
“Hmm. Sounds tasty. Tell you what; whoever catches them first divvies up with the others, all right?”
“They’re not to be eaten,” Retief corrected. “I want them whole.”
“Oh, greedy, eh?” More Jackoo rolled to complete the encirclement.
“Oh-oh,” Jik-jik twittered. “Us surrounded.”
“That’s fine,” Retief said. “Now we won’t have any Voion sneaking up on us.”
* * ** * *
“Tief-tief, us don’t want to tangle with those boys,” Jik-jik hissed. “They is tough customers. They ain’t fast on they wheels, but when they starts, it take a mountain to stop ’em. They flatten whatever they meets!”
“Good. They’ll make excellent heavy armor.”
“Tief-tief, you is got strange ideas. These Jackoo ain’t got a friend in the jungle. They grubbers, and they don’t care what kind they gets—Ween, Zilk, Flink—”
“Maybe we can offer them a change of diet.”
“If you have any last words, better get them said.” The Jackoo were closing in, ponderous as Bolo combat units.
“You boys is got wrong ideas,” Jik-jik crowded against Retief. “Us just dropped in to say howdy. I mean, us figured—I mean Tief-tief figured—”
“What he means is,” Tupper amplified hastily, “the club-swinging rogues ha’ carried out a dastardly attack on Zilk Town, and—”
“And you boys is next,” Jik-jik added. “So—”
“Heavens, one at a time!” the Jackoo bellowed. “Gracious, a person can’t even hear himself think! Now, let me get this straight: Just which of you is offering what others for sale?”
“The cute one with the long stilts,” a Jackoo suggested from the background. “He’s the owner, and these other two—”
“Nonsense, Fufu; the sour-looking one owns the squatty one, and the Stilter is some kind of a flack—”
“You’re both wrong,” a third hollow voice chimed in. “The little jumpy one with the big bitey thing obviously—”
“Gentlemen . . .” Retief held up both gauntleted hands. “I wonder if you’ve noticed a small conflagration in the near distance?”
“Gracious, yes,” the Jackoo named Fufu said. “I thought it was morning and woke up hour early.”
“A large party of Voion calling themselves Planetary Police have raided Zilk Town. They’ll be here next.”
“Well, dandy! Maybe they’ll have some succulent grubs for sale. Last time—”
“This isn’t like last time,” Retief said. “They’re not small-time free-lance bushrangers anymore; they’ve incorporated as a government and gone into the wholesale end. They’ve started off by levying a modest hundred percent property tax; after collecting that, they draft the survivors into government service, in what capacity we haven’t yet determined.”
“Ummm, no,” the nearest Jackoo thumped heavy palps together in the gesture of Invitation Declined. “We’re content as we are, living our peaceful, contemplative lives, bothering no one—”
“What about all them grubs you steals?” Jik-jik put in.
“Well, if you’re going to be picky . . .”
“What Fufu means is that we don’t want to sign up for the program,” a Jackoo explained. “Naturally, we think enterprise is ducky, but—”
“It’s not exactly an invitation,” Retief said. “More of an ultimatum. Your village is on their route of march. They should be here by First Jooprise.”
“Well, they’ll just have their trouble for nothing,” Fufu snorted. “Having one salesman call is one thing, but whole squads of them is simply out of the question!”
“Sure is glad us settle this thing when us did,” Pin-pin said heartily. “Now us better disappear in a hurry. Them Voion done snuck up on us; they about six deep all the way around the town.”
* * *
“I just remembered,” Jik-jik said. “I got cousins on the far side of the valley. I believes I’ll just go pay them Ween a call—”
“Hey, that a good idea, Jik-jik,” a nearby Ween chimed in. “Ain’t seen old Grandpa since I a nipper. I believes I’ll just go along . . .”
“It a shame the way us been neglecting our kin . . .” another offered.
“I has a yen to travel myself . . .” a third realized aloud.
“Hold on,” Retief called as a general surge toward the surrounding foliage gathered force. “Running away won’t help. The Voion will catch you, whichever way you go.”
“It was satisfying, getting the hook into a few o’ the murdering no-goods,” Tupper keened. “But there’s too many o’ ’em; our only chance is to slip off, quiet-like . . .”
“Why, you bunch of spoilsports!” Fufu honked. “Do you mean you’re going to run away just because a few worthless lightweights might be decapitated?”
“Us worthless lightweights wheeling out of here while the wheeling good,” Fut-fut declared. “Rest of you can do what you likes; it a free country!”
“That’s right, Tief-tief,” Jik-jik sighed. “You Dipple-macs is good fighters, but us knows when us licked.”
“Just listen to them chatter,” Fufu grunted. “A shameful display of arrant cowardice. Luckily, we Jackoo are simply too brave for words. Unfortunately, we can’t see in the dark, so we’ll have to bow out of night operations. In fact, I think it might be a good idea to slip quietly away to quieter territory now and recharge our plates. It has been rather an unsettling evening—”
“Gentlemen,” Retief called, “you’re all talking like idiots. They have us hemmed in on all sides. There’s only one way to get out of this trap—and that’s fight our way out.”
“How in the world did we get mixed up in this, Fufu?” a Jackoo boomed. “Why don’t we just mash these noisy creatures and get back to sleep?”
“Listen at them,” Jik-jik said. “They ready to quit. Only us Ween doing any fighting talk. Too bad we is got to sneak off with the rest of them—”
“Ween, ha!” Tupper shrilled. “Tief-tief’s no Ween.”
“He a honorary Ween,” Jik-jik said sullenly.
“We’re wasting time arguing,” Retief said. “If we hit them hard, we can punch our way through. They won’t be expecting attack.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Fufu said. “Since Tief-tief is the one who wants to start trouble, why doesn’t he go do it—alone? Then in the confusion, the rest of us can just steal away . . .”
“Hey, that not a bad idea,” Jik-jik nodded judiciously. He eased over beside Retief.
“This you big chance to impress me,” he whistled. “Not only will you hog all the glory, but if you get annihilated, nobody miss you. What you say?”
“Very well,” Retief said. “I’ll lead the attack—if you’ll permit me to sit on your back, Fufu—and if the rest of you will follow my lead.”
“Well . . . us Ween is fighting sons of guns,” Jik-jik said. “But seeing as them Zilk done pooped the party . . .”
“It was you Ween started this talk o’ desertion,” Tupper honked. “We Zilk will stick as long as any o’ ye—if you go first, Tief.”
“That’s settled, then,” Retief said. “Sharpen up your cutting edges, everybody, and we’ll see what we can do.”
* * *
“One thing about being a Stilter,” Jik-jik said almost enviously, eyeing Retief, sitting astride Fufu. “You sticks up there like you was welded on. Can’t no fellow with wheels manage that trick.”
“Get ready,” Retief called. Brush was stirring across the yard. A big, tall Voion rolled into view, a jewel glinting in one palp. He crossed his upper arms, propped the lower ones on what would have been hips in a vertebrate.
“You, there!” he shrilled in tribal dialect. “This village is under arrest! Now, all of you Jackoo lie down and roll over on your backs, and if you happen to catch those out-of-town agitators under you, so much the better!”