Read Retief and the Rascals for Free Online Page B

you think a trifle of placation at this juncture—" His plea
was cut off as two squat, orange-tinted locals hurled themselves at Retief, who
kicked one under the chin. The other he threw on top of Dock. At once the two
locals grappled and went down in a snarling tangle of muscular limbs.
     
                Retief took Magnan's arm. "Shall we be
going, Ben?" he suggested. The two Terrans flattened themselves against
the brick wall as a torrent of locals of both green and orange persuasion
flowed past, intent on aiding one or the other or, in some cases, both of the
local factions.
     
             "Not only the
Unspeakables," Magnan gasped out to Retief,  "but the Unthinkables as
well, and I think I caught a glimpse of some Unimaginables, crouched low and
biting at the kneecaps of both groups!" I see a bunch of Execrables
assembling up ahead, Retief commented.
     
                "We'd best go the other way!" Magnan
wailed, digging in his heels.
     
                "You prefer the Abominables?" Retief
inquired, urging his chief forward. Just then, the lead squad of the Execrables
arrived and dived for their prey, high, low, and at belt-level. Retief stamped
on the low man, ducked under the high one, and met the belt-buckle attacker
with a knee in the mouth. Magnan shrank back against the warehouse door and
kicked the low fellow in the jaw as he skidded past, face-first.
     
                "Jim!" Magnan yelped. "I think
that top one is getting ready to—" Just then Retief seized the ankles of
the diving Execrable and swung him in a wide arc to impact on the brick wall.
Retief dropped him and turned to deal in similar fashion with the next
attacker. Down below, Magnan crouched against the wall, and, as a brutish
Execrable impacted beside him, jabbed the new arrival sharply in one crossed
eye with a sharp stick he had found ready to hand. The unfortunate fellow
started to get to his feet, but was felled by his back-up man, just arriving.
Retief fended off two more of the aggressive locals and came to Magnan's side.
     
                "Ben, I'm a little mixed up. I understood
the Execrables were the traditional allies of the Unthinkables, but now they're
attacking each other—and anyone else they can get a hand on."
     
                "To be sure," Magnan replied, raising
his voice over the roar of the spreading riot. "The situation here on
Bloor, alignment-of-factionwise, can be, to the uninitiated, a trifle
confusing, due to the overlapping and interlocking allegiances due to clan, tribe,
party, and Tsang-orientation."
     
                "I think I'm getting initiated pretty fast,
Ben," Retief told his companion. "But it's still confusing."
     
                "Now, that fellow"—Magnan indicated a
burly lout who had come to rest upside-down beside him—" shows the epidermal
pigmentation of a classic Unspeakable, but you'll note he also bears the tribal
tattoo of the Raunchies, the honorary lobe-perforation of Clan Atrocious, and
the pro tem, paint-pattern of the Democratic Socialists. Thus, his
allegiances require him both to support and to attack all Unimaginables, as
well as to pursue a policy of unswerving neutrality anent the Reprehensible
moiety and to remain aloof as regards Com-caps and Liberals. What a pity dear
old Ambassador Smartfinger didn't realize the complexity of the local social
structure when first he offered largess to a starving beggar who just happened
to be the Chief Interrogator of the Disgustings, sworn enemies of the
Despicables, thus gaining Terra the implacable hostility of all factions, the
sole issue on which de facto agreement exists."
     
                "The Survey Team wasn't able to do a full
assessment, I understand," Retief yelled in Magnan's ear, "because
they'd inadvertently violated the Shrine of the Disgustings, which happened
also to be the taboo Bad Place of most of the other