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laughter," Hoshick said, "but surely you
jest?"
    "As a matter of fact,"
said Retief, "we ourselves try to avoid the use of weapons."
    "I seem to recall that our
first contact of skirmish-forms involved the use of a weapon by one of your
units."
    "My apologies," said
Retief. "The—ah—skirmish-form failed to recognize that he was dealing with
a sportsman."
    "Still, now that we have
commenced so merrily with weapons . . ." Hoshick signaled and die servant
refilled the drinking 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 skirmish-forms think of weapons as something
one employs only in dealing with certain specific life-forms."
    "Oh? Curious. What forms are
those?"
    "Vermin. Deadly antagonists,
but lacking in caste. I don't want our skirmish-forms thinking of such worthy
adversaries as yourself as vermin."
    "Dear me! I hadn't realized,
of course. Most considerate of you to point it out." Hoshick clucked in
dismay. "I see that skirmish-forms are much the same among you as with us:
lacking in perception." He laughed scratchily.
    "Which brings us to the crux
of the matter," Retief said. "You see, we're up against a serious
problem with regard to skirmish-forms: 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, merely 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 . . I'm afraid I
don't understand. What possible significance could one attach to the activities
of a couple of random skirmish-forms?"
    "I haven't made myself
clear," Retief said. He took a sip of wine. "We don't involve the
skirmish-forms at all; that's quite passé."
    "You don't mean . . . ?"
    "That's, right. You and
me."
    Outside the starlit sand Retief
tossed aside the power pistol and 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 from a
distance."
    "I suggest we use Tennessee
rules," said Retief. "They're very liberal: biting, gouging,
stomping, kneeling, 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 the balance."
    "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, jumped to his feet, and threw a punch to
Hoshick's mid-section. The alien whipped his left fringe around in an arc that
connected with Retief's jaw, spinning onto his back. Hoshick's weight struck
Retief like a dumptruck-load of concrete. Retief twisted, trying to roll. The
flat body of the