Free The Hostage of Zir by L. Sprague de Camp Page B

Scottish?” asked Reith, noting a slight accent.
    “Aye. And you’re American, despite a good Scot’s name, eh?”
    “My parents came from Scotland, and I belong to the St. Andrews Society at home—”
    “Later,” said Strachan. “The chief of police of Baianch is ahint me, eager to shake your hand and get back to chasing malefactors.”
    Reith met more officials, whose names he had given up trying to remember. Then came a black earthman, tall, lean, and frizz-haired. Unlike the other human beings present, he wore Terran clothes.
    “I’m Percy Mjipa,” he said in a crisp, precise manner. “I’m here to arrange a Terran consulate in Baianch. So far, Dur has been spared many visitors from earth; but if they are to have more, there’ll be need for a permanent W.F. representative.”
    Reith said: “Glad to know you, Mr. Mjipa. If I may ask, what part of our planet did you come from?”
    “Botswana, in southern Africa. I’m a Bamangwato. Try to keep your people up to standard, old boy. Mustn’t let the side down in front of non-humans, you know. Many Terrans we get here are mere riff-raff, who do our image no good.”
    Mjipa passed on. The end of the line approached. A bar opened for business, and a four-piece orchestra began to thump and tweetle.
    “Master Reese,” said a voice, “you promised me the first dance.” Vázni stood at Reith’s elbow.
    Reith had not done anything of the sort. Tashian had set him to work greeting bureaucrats before he had had time to answer the princess’ initiative. With a mighty effort, he put together a reply in broken Durou: “I am charmed, Douri. But I not know how Krishnans do dance. You teach, please.”
    She giggled again. “This were simple, good my sir. Give me your hand. Now you stand thus and step thus, and then we separate and bow, thus. Behold the envoy from Ulvanagh, yonder, with his wife!”
    The minuetlike dance turned out less complicated than Reith had feared. Soon he and Vázni were stepping hither and thither, circling, and bowing. Still, Reith was relieved when the dance ended before he had trodden on somebody’s toe and caused an interplanetary incident.
    Reith had been so busy struggling on one hand with the dance and on the other with Durou and he was hardly aware of Vázni as a person. Still, when he relinquished her, he felt a pang of jealousy as Maurice Considine stepped up and said in English: “May I have the next, Your Majesty?”
    Vázni laughed at the strange sounds but evidently understood. Soon she and Considine were twirling about on the floor, the latter as if he had done it all his life.
    Reith went to the bar, where the Jussacs were going over the refreshments like a pair of vacuum cleaners, and obtained a drink of kvad. Here he got into converse with an elderly Duru who spoke a little Portuguese. The Duru, chief of the Bureau of Resources, explained: “The Regent is eager to make his kingdom the planet’s foremost tourist attraction. We cannot let little powers like Majbur and Sotaspé outdistance us. You as an expert can advise us.”
    “I shall be glad to give what small help I can,” said Reith.
    He would have liked to urge flush toilets upon the Krishnans but knew that he could not because of the Saint-Rémy treatment, to which he and his tourists had been subjected. The treatment would tongue-tie them any time they tried to impart technical knowledge to extraterrestrials. He said: “The main things are to see that the visitors have places to sleep without vermin, and food not too different from what they are used to . . .”
    The dancers left the floor, and servitors carried out chairs and tables. The tables were set in a long U-shaped row. Reith found himself seated at Vázni’s left, at the curve of the U, while the Regent sat on her right. The tourists were scattered among the Krishnans, in what Tashian evidently hoped would be a chummy arrangement. Lack of any common speech with their neighbors, however, caused them to