The Keith Laumer MEGAPACK®: 21 Classic Stories. Keith Laumer

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СКАЧАТЬ scratchy sound issued from the disk. “Pardon my laughter,” Hoshick said, “but surely you jest?”

      “As a matter of fact,” said Retief, “we ourselves seldom use weapons.”

      “I seem to recall that our first contact of skirmishforms involved the use of a weapon by one of your units.”

      “My apologies,” said Retief. “The—ah—the skirmishform failed to recognize that he was dealing with a sportsman.”

      “Still, now that we have commenced so merrily with weapons….” Hoshick signaled and the servant refilled tubes.

      “There is an aspect I haven’t yet mentioned,” Retief went on. “I hope you won’t take this personally, but the fact is, our skirmishforms think of weapons as something one employs only in dealing with certain specific life-forms.”

      “Oh? Curious. What forms are those?”

      “Vermin. Or ‘varmints’ as some call them. Deadly antagonists, but lacking in caste. I don’t want our skirmishforms thinking of such worthy adversaries as yourself as varmints.”

      “Dear me! I hadn’t realized, of course. Most considerate of you to point it out.” Hoshick clucked in dismay. “I see that skirmishforms are much the same among you as with us: lacking in perception.” He laughed scratchily. “Imagine considering us as—what was the word?—varmints.”

      “Which brings us to the crux of the matter. You see, we’re up against a serious problem with regard to skirmishforms. A low birth rate. Therefore we’ve reluctantly taken to substitutes for the mass actions so dear to the heart of the sportsman. We’ve attempted to put an end to these contests altogether….”

      Hoshick coughed explosively, sending a spray of wine into the air. “What are you saying?” he gasped. “Are you proposing that Hoshick of the Mosaic of the Two Dawns abandon honor….?”

      “Sir!” said Retief sternly. “You forget yourself. I, Retief of the Red Tape Mountain, make an alternate proposal more in keeping with the newest sporting principles.”

      “New?” cried Hoshick. “My dear Retief, what a pleasant surprise! I’m enthralled with novel modes. One gets so out of touch. Do elaborate.”

      “It’s quite simple, really. Each side selects a representative and the two individuals settle the issue between them.”

      “I…um…fear I don’t understand. What possible significance could one attach to the activities of a couple of random skirmishforms?”

      “I haven’t made myself clear,” said Retief. He took a sip of wine. “We don’t involve the skirmishforms at all. That’s quite passe.”

      “You don’t mean…?”

      “That’s right. You and me.”

      * * * *

      Outside on the starlit sand Retief tossed aside the power pistol, followed it with the leather shirt Swazey had lent him. By the faint light he could just make out the towering figure of the Flap-jack rearing up before him, his trappings gone. A silent rank of Flap-jack retainers were grouped behind him.

      “I fear I must lay aside the translator now, Retief,” said Hoshick. He sighed and rippled his fringe tentacles. “My spawn-fellows will never credit this. Such a curious turn fashion has taken. How much more pleasant it is to observe the action of the skirmishforms from a distance.”

      “I suggest we use Tennessee rules,” said Retief. “They’re very liberal. Biting, gouging, stomping, kneeing and of course choking, as well as the usual punching, shoving and kicking.”

      “Hmmm. These gambits seem geared to forms employing rigid endo-skeletons; I fear I shall be at a disadvantage.”

      “Of course,” Retief said, “if you’d prefer a more plebeian type of contest….”

      “By no means. But perhaps we could rule out tentacle-twisting, just to even it.”

      “Very well. Shall we begin?”

      With a rush Hoshick threw himself at Retief, who ducked, whirled, and leaped on the Flap-jack’s back…and felt himself flipped clear by a mighty ripple of the alien’s slab-like body. Retief rolled aside as Hoshick turned on him; he jumped to his feet and threw a right hay-maker to Hoshick’s mid-section. The alien whipped his left fringe around in an arc that connected with Retief’s jaw, sent him spinning onto his back…and Hoshick’s weight struck him.

      Retief twisted, tried to roll. The flat body of the alien blanketed him. He worked an arm free, drumming blows on the leathery back. Hoshick nestled closer.

      Retief’s air was running out. He heaved up against the smothering weight. Nothing budged.

      It was like burial under a dump-truck-load of concrete.

      He remembered the rangerform he had captured. The sensitive orifice had been placed ventrally, in what would be the thoracic area….

      He groped, felt tough hide set with horny granules. He would be missing skin tomorrow…if there was a tomorrow. His thumb found the orifice and probed.

      The Flap-jack recoiled. Retief held fast, probed deeper, groping with the other hand. If the alien were bilaterally symmetrical there would be a set of ready made hand-holds….

      * * * *

      There were.

      Retief dug in and the Flap-jack writhed, pulled away. Retief held on, scrambled to his feet, threw his weight against the alien and fell on top of him, still gouging. Hoshick rippled his fringe wildly, flopped in terror, then went limp.

      Retief relaxed, released his hold and got to his feet, breathing hard. Hoshick humped himself over onto his ventral side, lifted and moved gingerly over to the sidelines. His retainers came forward, assisted him into his trappings, strapped on the translator. He sighed heavily, adjusted the volume.

      “There is much to be said for the old system,” he said. “What a burden one’s sportsmanship places on one at times.”

      “Great sport, wasn’t it?” said Retief. “Now, I know you’ll be eager to continue. If you’ll just wait while I run back and fetch some of our gougerforms—”

      “May hide-ticks devour the gougerforms!” Hoshick bellowed. “You’ve given me such a sprong-ache as I’ll remember each spawning-time for a year.”

      “Speaking of hide-ticks,” said Retief, “we’ve developed a biterform—”

      “Enough!” Hoshick roared, so loudly that the translator bounced on his hide. “Suddenly I yearn for the crowded yellow sands of Jaq. I had hoped….” He broke off, drew a rasping breath. “I had hoped, Retief,” he said, speaking sadly now, “to find a new land here where I might plan my own Mosaic, till these alien sands and bring forth such a crop of paradise-lichen as should glut the markets of a hundred worlds. But my spirit is not equal to the prospect of biterforms and gougerforms without end. I am shamed СКАЧАТЬ