Free Diplomat at Arms by Keith Laumer

a call for Mr. Magnan aboard the CDT
vessel. Tell him your troubles. It will make his day. And a word of advice: Mr.
Magnan hates a piker—so ask for plenty.”
     
    “My boy, I’m delighted,” Ambassador Sternwheeler boomed. “A
highly professional piece of work. A stirring testimonial to the value of the
skilled negotiator! An inspiration to us all!”
    “You’re too kind, Mr. Ambassador,” Retief said, glancing at
his watch.
    “And
Magnan tells me that not only will the mission be welcomed, and my job secure
for another year—that is, I shall have an opportunity to serve—but a technical
mission has been requested as well. I shall look forward to meeting General
Sozier. He sounds a most reasonable chap.”
    “Oh, you’ll like him, Mr. Ambassador. A true democrat,
willing to share all you have.”
    Counselor of Embassy Magnan tapped and entered the office.
    “Forgive the intrusion, Mr. Ambassador,” he said
breathlessly, “but—”
    “Well, what is it man! The deal hasn’t gone
sour . . . ?”
    “Oh, far from it! I’ve been exploring General Sozier’s economic
situation with him via scope—and it seems he’ll require a
loan . . .”
    “Yes, yes? How much?”
    Magnan inhaled proudly. “Twenty. Million. Credits.”
    “No!”
    “Yes!”
    “Magnificent! Good lord, Magnan, you’re a genius! This will
mean promotions all around. Why, the administrative load alone—”
    “I can’t wait to make planetfall, Mr. Ambassador. I’m all
abubble with plans. I hope they manage to get the docking facilities back in
operation soon.”
    “Help is on the way, my dear Magnan. I’m assured the
Environmental Control installations will be coming back in operation again
within a month or two.”
    “My,
didn’t those ice-caps form quickly—and in the open sea.”
    “Mere scum-ice. As my Counselor for Technical Affairs, you’ll
be in charge of the ice-breaking operation once we’re settled in. I imagine
you’ll want to spend considerable time in the field. I’ll be expecting a record
of how every credit is spent.”
    “I’m more the executive type,” Magnan said. “Possibly
Retief—”
    A desk speaker hummed. “Mr. Corasol’s lighter has arrived to
ferry Mr. Retief across to the Company ship . . .”
    “Sorry you won’t be with us, Retief,” Sternwheeler said
heartily. He turned to Magnan. “Manager-General Corasol has extended Retief an
exequatur as Consul General to Las Palmas.”
    Retief nodded. “Much as I’d like to be out in that open boat
with you, breaking ice, I’m afraid duty calls elsewhere.”
    “Your own post? I’m not sure he’s experienced enough, Mr.
Ambassador. Now, I—”
    “He was requested by name, Magnan. It seems the
Manager-General’s children took a fancy to him.”
    “Eh? How curious. I never thought you were particularly
interested in infant care, Retief.”
    “Perhaps I haven’t been, Mr. Magnan.” Retief draped his short
blue cape over his left arm and turned to the door. “But remember the
diplomat’s motto: be adaptable . . .”
     

THE PRINCE AND THE PIRATE
    “The
ancient defender of the principle of self-determination of peoples threw the
elite of its diplomatic shock troops into the fight when local tradition was
threatened at Elora. Holding himself aloof from internal bickering, Ambassador
Hidebinder dealt shrewdly with diverse elements of the power picture, to forge
a bright new page in Corps history . . .”
     
    —Vol. VIII, Reel 7, 450 AE (AD 2951)
     
    Retief
reined in the tall-shouldered urze-beast with a jangle of the hunting-bells
attached to the long-legged mount’s harness. The trail of the dirosaur led
straight ahead, into a dense thicket of iron-rod trees fifty feet distant, now
bent and twisted by the passing of the wounded monster. Far away, the hunting
horns of the main party sounded; Retief smiled. Prince Tavilan would employ a
choice selection of royal oaths when he learned that a mere diplomat had beaten
him to