Diplomats -- Fiction; Life on other planets -- Fiction; Retief (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction
"Deployment, hell! Against a modern assault force you need modern
armament."
"Look!" Anne-Marie touched Retief's arm. "They're coming now."
Two tall grizzled men came up the slope, skis over their shoulders.
Anne-Marie went forward to meet them, Retief at her side.
The two came up, embraced the girl, shook hands with Retief, put down
their skis.
"Welcome to Svea," Tove said. "Let's find a warm corner where we can
talk."
* * * * *
Retief shook his head, smiling, as a tall girl with coppery hair
offered a vast slab of venison.
"I've caught up," he said, "for every hungry day I ever lived."
Bo Bergman poured Retief's beer mug full.
"Our captains are the best in space," he said. "Our population is
concentrated in half a hundred small cities all across the planet. We
know where the Soetti must strike us. We will ram their major vessels
with unmanned ships. On the ground, we will hunt them down with
small-arms."
"An assembly line turning out penetration missiles would have been more
to the point."
"Yes," Bo Bergman said. "If we had known."
"How long have you known the Soetti were planning to hit you?"
Tove raised his eyebrows.
"Since this afternoon," he said.
"How did you find out about it? That information is supposed in some
quarters to be a well-guarded secret."
"Secret?" Tove said.
Chip pulled at Retief's arm.
"Mister," he said in Retief's ear. "Come here a minute."
Retief looked at Anne-Marie, across at Tove and Bo Bergman. He rubbed
the side of his face with his hand.
"Excuse me," he said. He followed Chip to one side of the room.
"Listen!" Chip said. "Maybe I'm goin' bats, but I'll swear there's
somethin' funny here. I'm back there mixin' a sauce knowed only to
me and the devil and I be dog if them gals don't pass me ever dang
spice I need, without me sayin' a word. Come to put my souffle in the
oven--she's already set, right on the button at 350. An' just now I'm
settin' lookin' at one of 'em bendin' over a tub o' apples--snazzy
little brunette name of Leila--derned if she don't turn around and
say--" Chip gulped. "Never mind. Point is...." His voice nearly
faltered. "It's almost like these folks was readin' my mind!"
Retief patted Chip on the shoulder.
"Don't worry about your sanity, Old Timer," he said. "That's exactly
what they're doing."
VI
"We've never tried to make a secret of it," Tove said. "But we haven't
advertised it, either."
"It really isn't much," Bo Bergman said. "Not a mutant ability, our
scholars say. Rather, it's a skill we've stumbled on, a closer empathy.
We are few, and far from the old home world. We've had to learn to
break down the walls we had built around our minds."
"Can you read the Soetti?" Retief asked.
Tove shook his head. "They're very different from us. It's painful to
touch their minds. We can only sense the sub-vocalized thoughts of a
human mind."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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