retief and magnan topped a ridge and looked down across a slope of towering tree-shrubs and glossy violet-stemmed palms set among flamboyant blossoms of yellow and red, reaching down to a strip of white beach with the blue sea beyond.
"a delightful vista," magnan said, mopping at his face. "a pity we couldn't locate the qornt. we'll go back now and report—"
"i'm pretty sure the settlement is off to the right," retief said. "why don't you head back for the boat, while i ease over and see what i can observe."
"retief, we're engaged in a serious mission. this is not a time to think of sightseeing."
"i'd like to take a good look at what we're giving away."
"see here, retief! one might almost receive the impression that you're questioning corps policy!"
"one might, at that. the qornt have made their play, but i think it might be valuable to take a look at their cards before we fold. if i'm not back at the boat in an hour, lift without me."
"you expect me to make my way back alone?"
"it's directly down-slope—" retief broke off, listening. magnan clutched at his arm.
there was a sound of crackling foliage. twenty feet ahead, a leafy branch swung aside. an eight-foot biped stepped into view, long, thin, green-clad legs with back-bending knees moving in quick, bird-like steps. a pair of immense black-lensed goggles covered staring eyes set among bushy green hair above a great bone-white beak. the crest bobbed as the creature cocked its head, listening.
magnan gulped audibly. the qornt froze, head tilted, beak aimed directly at the spot where the terrestrials stood in the deep shade of a giant trunk.
"i'll go for help," magnan squeaked. he whirled and took three leaps into the brush.
a second great green-clad figure rose up to block his way. he spun, darted to the left. the first qornt pounced, grappled magnan to its narrow chest. magnan yelled, threshing and kicking, broke free, turned—and collided with the eight-foot alien, coming in fast from the right. all three went down in a tangle of limbs.
retief jumped forward, hauled magnan free, thrust him aside and stopped, right fist cocked. the two qornt lay groaning feebly.
"nice piece of work, mr. magnan," retief said. "you nailed both of them."
"those undoubtedly are the most bloodthirsty, aggressive, merciless countenances it has ever been my misfortune to encounter," magnan said. "it hardly seems fair. eight feet tall and faces like that!"
the smaller of the two captive qornt ran long, slender fingers over a bony shin, from which he had turned back the tight-fitting green trousers.
"it's not broken," he whistled nasally in passable terrestrial, eyeing magnan through the heavy goggles, now badly cracked. "small thanks to you."
magnan smiled loftily. "i daresay you'll think twice before interfering with peaceable diplomats in future."
"diplomats? surely you jest."
"never mind us," retief said. "it's you fellows we'd like to talk about. how many of you are there?"
"only zubb and myself."
"i mean altogether. how many qornt?"
the alien whistled shrilly.
"here, no signalling!" magnan snapped, looking around.
"that was merely an expression of amusement."
"you find the situation amusing? i assure you, sir, you are in perilous straits at the moment. i may fly into another rage, you know."
"please, restrain yourself. i was merely somewhat astonished—" a small whistle escaped—"at being taken for a qornt."
"aren't you a qornt?"
"i? great snail trails, no!" more stifled whistles of amusement escaped the beaked face. "both zubb and i are verpp. naturalists, as it happens."
"you certainly look like qornt."
"oh, not at all—except perhaps to a terrestrial. the qornt are sturdily built rascals, all over ten feet in height. and, of course, they do nothing but quarrel. a drone caste, actually."
"a caste? you mean they're biologically the same as you?"
"not at all! a verpp wouldn't think of fertilizing a qornt."
"i mean to say, you are of the same basic stock—descended from a common ancestor, perhaps."
"we are all pud's creatures."
"what are the differences between you, then?"
"why, the qornt are argumentive, boastful, lacking in appreciation for the finer things of life. one dreads to contemplate descending to their level."
"do you know anything about a note passed to the terrestrial ambassador at smorbrod?" retief asked.
the beak twitched. "smorbrod? i know of no place called smorbrod."
"the outer planet of this system."
"oh, yes. we call it guzzum. i had heard that some sort of creatures had established a settlement there, but i confess i pay little note to such matters."
"we're wasting time, retief," magnan said. "we must truss these chaps up, hurry back to the boat and make our escape. you heard what they said."
"are there any qornt down there at the harbor, where the boats are?" retief asked.
"at tarroon, you mean? oh, yes. planning some adventure."
"that would be the invasion of smorbrod," magnan said. "and unless we hurry, retief, we're likely to be caught there with the last of the evacuees!"
"how many qornt would you say there are at tarroon?"
"oh, a very large number. perhaps fifteen or twenty."
"fifteen or twenty what?" magnan looked perplexed.
"fifteen or twenty qornt."
"you mean that there are only fifteen or twenty individual qornt in all?"
another whistle. "not at all. i was referring to the local qornt only. there are more at the other centers, of course."
"and the qornt are responsible for the ultimatum—unilaterally?"
"i suppose so; it sounds like them. a truculent group, you know. and interplanetary relations are rather a hobby of theirs."
zubb moaned and stirred. he sat up slowly, rubbing his head. he spoke to his companion in a shrill alien clatter of consonants.
"what did he say?"
"poor zubb. he blames me for his bruises, since it was my idea to gather you as specimens."
"you should have known better than to tackle that fierce-looking creature," zubb said, pointing his beak at magnan.
"how does it happen that you speak terrestrial?" retief asked.
"oh, one picks up all sorts of dialects."
"it's quite charming, really," magnan said. "such a quaint, archaic accent."
"suppose we went down to tarroon," retief asked. "what kind of reception would we get?"
"that depends. i wouldn't recommend interfering with the gwil or the rheuk; it's their nest-mending time, you know. the boog will be busy mating—such a tedious business—and of course the qornt are tied up with their ceremonial feasting. i'm afraid no one will take any notice of you."
"do you mean to say," magnan demanded, "that these ferocious qornt, who have issued an ultimatum to the corps diplomatique terrestrienne—who openly avow their occupied world—would ignore terrestrials in their midst?"
"if at all possible."
retief got to his feet.
"i think our course is clear, mr. magnan. it's up to us to go down and attract a little attention."
