Handmaidens brought cushions, giggled and fled. Retief and Georges
settled themselves comfortably. The Aga Kaga eyed them in silence.
"We have come to bear tidings from the Corps Diplomatique
Terrestrienne," Retief said solemnly. A perfumed slave girl offered
grapes.
"Modest ignorance is better than boastful knowledge," the Aga Kaga
said. "What brings the CDT into the picture?"
"The essay of the drunkard will be read in the tavern," Retief said.
"Whereas the words of kings...."
"Very well, I concede the point." The Aga Kaga waved a hand at the
serving maids. "Depart, my dears. Attend me later. You too, Ralph.
These are mere diplomats. They are men of words, not deeds."
The bearded man glared and departed. The girls hurried after him.
"Now," the Aga Kaga said. "Let's drop the wisdom of the ages and
get down to the issues. Not that I don't admire your repertoire of
platitudes. How do you remember them all?"
"Diplomats and other liars require good memories," said Retief. "But
as you point out, small wisdom to small minds. I'm here to effect a
settlement of certain differences between yourself and the planetary
authorities. I have here a Note, which I'm conveying on behalf of the
Sector Under-Secretary. With your permission, I'll read it."
"Go ahead." The Aga Kaga kicked a couple of cushions onto the floor,
eased a bottle from under the couch and reached for glasses.
"The Under-Secretary for Sector Affairs presents his compliments to his
Excellency, the Aga Kaga of the Aga Kaga, Primary Potentate, Hereditary
Sheik, Emir of the--"
"Yes, yes. Skip the titles."
Retief flipped over two pages.
"... and with reference to the recent relocation of persons under the
jurisdiction of his Excellency, has the honor to point out that the
territories now under settlement comprise a portion of that area,
hereinafter designated as Sub-sector Alpha, which, under terms of
the Agreement entered into by his Excellency's predecessor, and as
referenced in Sector Ministry's Notes numbers G-175846573957-b and
X-7584736 c-1, with particular pertinence to that body designated in
the Revised Galactic Catalogue, Tenth Edition, as amended, Volume
Nine, reel 43, as 54 Cygni Alpha, otherwise referred to hereinafter as
Flamme--"
"Come to the point," the Aga Kaga cut in. "You're here to lodge a
complaint that I'm invading territories to which someone else lays
claim, is that it?" He smiled broadly, offered dope-sticks and lit one.
"Well, I've been expecting a call. After all, it's what you gentlemen
are paid for. Cheers."
"Your Excellency has a lucid way of putting things," Retief said.
"Call me Stanley," the Aga Kaga said. "The other routine is just to
please some of the old fools--I mean the more conservative members
of my government. They're still gnawing their beards and kicking
themselves because their ancestors dropped science in favor of alchemy
and got themselves stranded in a cultural dead end. This charade is
supposed to prove they were right all along. However, I've no time
to waste in neurotic compensations. I have places to go and deeds to
accomplish."
"At first glance," Retief said, "it looks as though the places are
already occupied, and the deeds are illegal."
* * * * *
The Aga Kaga guffawed. "For a diplomat, you speak plainly, Retief. Have
another drink." He poured, eyeing Georges. "What of M. Duror? How does
he feel about it?"
Georges took a thoughtful swallow of whiskey. "Not bad," he said. "But
not quite good enough to cover the odor of goats."
The Aga Kaga snorted. "I thought the goats were overdoing it a bit
myself," he said. "Still, the graybeards insisted. And I need their
support."
"Also," Georges said distinctly, "I think you're soft. You lie around
letting women wait on you, while your betters are out doing an honest
day's work."
The Aga Kaga looked startled. "Soft? I can tie a knot in an iron bar
as big as your thumb." He popped a grape into his mouth. "As for the
rest, your pious views about the virtues of hard labor are as childish
as my advisors' faith in the advantages of primitive plumbing. As for
myself, I am a realist. If two monkeys want the same banana, in the end
one will have it, and the other will cry morality. The days of my years
are numbered, praise be to God. While they last, I hope to eat well,
hunt well, fight well and take my share of pleasure. I leave to others
the arid satisfactions of self-denial and other perversions."
"You admit you're here to grab our land, then," Georges said. "That's
the damnedest piece of bare-faced aggression--"
"Ah, ah!" The Aga Kaga held up a hand. "Watch your vocabulary, my
dear sir. I'm sure that 'justifiable yearnings for territorial
self-realization' would be more appropriate to the situation. Or
possibly 'legitimate aspirations, for self-determination of formerly
exploited peoples' might fit the case. Aggression is, by definition,
an activity carried on only by those who have inherited the mantle of
Colonial Imperialism."
"Imperialism! Why, you Aga Kagans have been the most notorious
planet-grabbers in Sector history, you--you--"
"Call me Stanley." The Aga Kaga munched a grape. "I merely face the
realities of popular folk-lore. Let's be pragmatic; it's a matter of
historical association. Some people can grab land and pass it off
lightly as a moral duty; others are dubbed imperialist merely for
holding onto their own. Unfair, you say. But that's life, my friends.
And I shall continue to take every advantage of it."
"We'll fight you!" Georges bellowed. He took another gulp of whiskey
and slammed the glass down. "You won't take this world without a
struggle!"
"Another?" the Aga Kaga said, offering the bottle. Georges glowered as
his glass was filled. The Aga Kaga held the glass up to the light.
"Excellent color, don't you agree?" He turned his eyes on Georges.
"It's pointless to resist," he said. "We have you outgunned and
outmanned. Your small nation has no chance against us. But we're
prepared to be generous. You may continue to occupy such areas as we do
not immediately require until such time as you're able to make other
arrangements."
"And by the time we've got a crop growing out of what was bare rock,
you'll be ready to move in," the Boyar Chef d'Regime snapped. "But
you'll find that we aren't alone!"
* * * * *
"Quite alone," the Aga said. He nodded sagely. "Yes, one need but read
the lesson of history. The Corps Diplomatique will make expostulatory
noises, but it will accept the _fait accompli_. You, my dear sir, are
but a very small nibble. We won't make the mistake of excessive greed.
We shall inch our way to empire--and those who stand in our way shall
be dubbed warmongers."
"I see you're quite a student of history, Stanley," Retief said. "I
wonder if you recall the eventual fate of most of the would-be empire
nibblers of the past?"
"Ah, but they grew incautious. They went too far, too fast."
"The confounded impudence," Georges rasped. "Tells us to our face what
he has in mind!"
"An ancient and honorable custom, from the time of _Mein Kampf_ and
the _Communist Manifesto_ through the _Porcelain Wall_ of Leung. Such
declarations have a legendary quality. It's traditional that they're
never taken at face value."
"But always," Retief said, "there was a critical point at which the man
on horseback could have been pulled from the saddle."
"_Could_ have been," the Aga Kaga chuckled. He finished the grapes and
began peeling an orange. "But they never were. Hitler could have been
stopped by the Czech Air Force in 1938; Stalin was at the mercy of the
primitive atomics of the west in 1946; Leung was grossly over-extended
at Rangoon. But the onus of that historic role could not be overcome.
It has been the fate of your spiritual forebears to carve civilization
from the wilderness and then, amid tearing of garments and the heaping
of ashes of self-accusation on your own confused heads, to withdraw,
leaving the spoils for local political opportunists and mob leaders,
clothed in the mystical virtue of native birth. Have a banana."
"You're stretching your analogy a little too far," Retief said. "You're
banking on the inaction of the Corps. You could be wrong."
"I shall know when to stop," the Aga Kaga said.
"Tell me, Stanley," Retief said, rising. "Are we quite private here?"
"Yes, perfectly so," the Aga Kaga said. "None would dare to intrude in
my council." He cocked an eyebrow at Retief. "You have a proposal to
make in confidence? But what of our dear friend Georges? One would not
like to see him disillusioned."
"Don't worry about Georges. He's a realist, like you. He's prepared to
deal in facts. Hard facts, in this case."