Gamblers World | Page 2

"it's better than no

sport at all."
"Your time would be better spent observing the Nenni mannerisms.
Frankly, Retief, you're not fitting into the group at all well."
"I'll be candid with you, Mr. Magnan. The group gives me the willies."
"Oh, the Nenni are a trifle frivolous, I'll concede," Magnan said. "But
it's with them that we must deal. And you'd be making a contribution to
the overall mission if you merely abandoned that rather arrogant
manner of yours." Magnan looked at Retief critically. "You can't help
your height, of course. But couldn't you curve your back just a bit--and
possibly assume a more placating expression? Just act a little more...."
"Girlish?"
"Exactly." Magnan nodded, then looked sharply at Retief.
Retief drained his glass and put it on a passing tray.
"I'm better at acting girlish when I'm well juiced," he said. "But I can't
face another sorghum-and-soda. I suppose it would be un-Nenni-like to
slip the bearer a credit and ask for a Scotch and water."
"Decidedly." Magnan glanced toward a sound across the room.
"Ah, here's the Potentate now!" He hurried off.
Retief watched the bearers coming and going, bringing trays laden with
drinks, carrying off empties. There was a lull in the drinking now, as
the diplomats gathered around the periwigged Chief of State and his
courtiers. Bearers loitered near the service door, eyeing the notables.
Retief strolled over to the service door, pushed through it into a narrow
white-tiled hall filled with the odors of the kitchen. Silent servants
gaped as he passed, watching as he moved along to the kitchen door
and stepped inside.

II
A dozen or more low-caste Petreacans, gathered around a long table in
the center of the room looked up, startled. A heap of long-bladed bread
knives, French knives, carving knives and cleavers lay in the center of
the table. Other knives were thrust into belts or held in the hands of the
men. A fat man in the yellow sarong of a cook stood frozen in the act of
handing a knife to a tall one-eyed sweeper.
Retief took one glance, then let his eyes wander to a far corner of the
room. Humming a careless little tune, he sauntered across to the open
liquor shelves, selected a garish green bottle and turned unhurriedly
back toward the door. The group of servants watched him, transfixed.
As Retief reached the door, it swung inward. Magnan, lips pursed,
stood in the doorway.
"I had a premonition," he said.
"I'll bet it was a dandy," Retief said. "You must tell me all about it--in
the salon."
"We'll have this out right here," Magnan snapped. "I've warned you!"
Magnan's voice trailed off as he took in the scene around the table.
"After you," Retief said, nudging Magnan toward the door.
"What's going on here?" Magnan barked. He stared at the men, started
around Retief. A hand stopped him.
"Let's be going," Retief said, propelling Magnan toward the hall.
"Those knives!" Magnan yelped. "Take your hands off me, Retief!
What are you men--?"
Retief glanced back. The fat cook gestured suddenly, and the men
faded back. The cook stood, arm cocked, a knife across his palm.
"Close the door and make no sound," he said softly.

Magnan pressed back against Retief. "Let's ... r-run...." he faltered.
Retief turned slowly, put his hands up.
"I don't run very well with a knife in my back," he said. "Stand very
still, Magnan, and do just what he tells you."
"Take them out through the back," the cook said.
"What does he mean?" Magnan spluttered. "Here, you--"
"Silence," the cook said, almost casually. Magnan gaped at him, closed
his mouth.
Two of the men with knives came to Retief's side and gestured,
grinning broadly.
"Let's go, peacocks," one said.
Retief and Magnan silently crossed the kitchen, went out the back door,
stopped on command and stood waiting. The sky was brilliant with
stars. A gentle breeze stirred the tree-tops beyond the garden. Behind
them the servants talked in low voices.
"You go too, Illy," the cook was saying.
"Do it here," another said.
"And carry their damn dead bodies down?"
"Pitch 'em behind the hedge."
"I said the river. Three of you is plenty for a couple of Nenni. We don't
know if we want to--"
"They're foreigners, not Nenni. We don't know--"
"So they're foreign Nenni. Makes no difference. I've seen them. I need
every man here; now get going."

"What about the big guy? He looks tough."
"Him? He waltzed into the room and didn't notice a thing. But watch
the other one."
At a prod from a knife point, Retief moved off down the walk, two of
the escort behind him and Magnan, another going ahead to scout the
way.
Magnan moved closer to Retief.
"Say," he said