The ambassador entered the vehicle, the other Terrestrials following. It
was as bare of seats as the Terminal building. What appeared to be a
defunct electronic chassis lay in the center of the floor.
Retief glanced back. The Yill were talking excitedly. None of them
entered the car. The door was closed, and the Terrans braced themselves
under the low roof as the engine started up with a whine of worn
turbos.
The van moved off.
It was an uncomfortable ride. Retief put out an arm as the vehicle
rounded a corner, just catching the ambassador as he staggered,
off-balance. The ambassador glared at him, settled his heavy tri-corner
hat and stood stiffly until the car lurched again.
Retief stooped, attempting to see out through the single dusty window.
They seemed to be in a wide street lined with low buildings.
They passed through a massive gate, up a ramp, and stopped. The door
opened. Retief looked out at a blank gray facade, broken by tiny windows
at irregular intervals. A scarlet vehicle was drawn up ahead, the Yill
reception committee emerging from it. Through its wide windows Retief
saw rich upholstery and caught a glimpse of glasses clamped to a tiny
bar.
P'Toi, the Yill interpreter, came forward, gestured to a small door.
Magnan opened it, waiting for the ambassador.
As he stepped to it, a Yill thrust himself ahead and hesitated.
Ambassador Spradley drew himself up, glaring. Then he twisted his mouth
into a frozen smile and stepped aside.
The Yill looked at each other then filed through the door.
Retief was the last to enter. As he stepped inside, a black-clad servant
slipped past him, pulled the lid from a large box by the door and
dropped in a paper tray heaped with refuse. There were alien symbols in
flaking paint on the box. They seemed, Retief noticed, to spell "egg
nog."
II
The shrill pipes and whining reeds had been warming up for an hour when
Retief emerged from his cubicle and descended the stairs to the banquet
hall.
Standing by the open doors, he lit a slender cigar and watched through
narrowed eyes as obsequious servants in black flitted along the low wide
corridor, carrying laden trays into the broad room, arranging settings
on a great four-sided table forming a hollow square that almost filled
the room. Rich brocades were spread across the center of the side
nearest the door, flanked by heavily decorated white cloths. Beyond,
plain white extended to the far side, where metal dishes were arranged
on the bare table top.
A richly dressed Yill approached, stepped aside to allow a servant to
pass and entered the room.
Retief turned at the sound of Terran voices behind him. The ambassador
came up, trailed by two diplomats. He glanced at Retief, adjusted his
ruff and looked into the banquet hall.
"Apparently we're to be kept waiting again," he muttered. "After having
been informed at the outset that the Yill have no intention of yielding
an inch, one almost wonders...."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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