"What part do we parasites play in the internal economy?" Retief asked.

"Why, we man posts in every department from liver to lights. We keep tabs on the basal metabolism, monitor gland secretions, control the PH, take care of custodial services-oh, a host of items. Without us, His Supremacy would soon grind to a halt."

"He seems so self-sufficient-with your help, of course," Magnan said, "I'm a little surprised he even consented to receive a diplomatic mission."

"Frankly, His Supremacy is thinking of emigrating," Sloonge said.

"Emigrating? Why?"

"Depletion of natural resources. At the present rate of consumption, Quahogg will be entirely consumed in another two millenia."

"Ah-I take it you mean the food supply will be consumed?" Magnan queried.

"A distinction without a difference, my dear Magnan. His Supremacy eats rock. Now, no doubt, you'll want to get out of those bulky suits and freshen up. There'll be a reception in your honor in half an hour in the duodenum."

"You noted how skillfully I drew him out, Retief," Magnan said as their host withdrew. "Why, he was practically babbling his life secrets to me."

"You got everything except the dinner menu," Retief said admiringly. "And of course the whereabouts of Amba.s.sador Wrothwax."

"Doubtless we'll be accepting His Excellency's congratulations in person shortly," Magnan said as he opened the closet door. He clucked and lifted out a scarlet-and-gold creation heavy with braids, loops, knots, b.u.t.tons, lapels, aiglettes, and epaulettes.

"Amazing," he said. "Regulation Corps Late Early-evening hemi-demi-semi-informals-and they even got the decorations right. Copied from Amba.s.sador Wrothwax's, no doubt."

"I didn't know you had a figleaf cl.u.s.ter to your Doublecross of the Order of St. Ignatz," Retief commented. "Congratulations, Mr. Magnan. That's only awarded for hairsplitting at the conference table above and beyond the call of protocol, as I recall."

"I was able to do a trifling service for a certain prince, who proved not ungrateful," Magnan said modestly. "I held out for six-legged barstools and a hundred-foot mink-lined double-decker pool table in the Welfare Center we gave his world. Since His Highness' uncle was in the custom-furnishings line, the family turned a tidy profit on the affair."

"May I?" Retief examined the sparkling gold-and-enamel decoration closely. He pressed a hidden catch and the central jewel sprang open, revealing a tiny compartment filled with a fine brown powder.

"Interesting," Retief said. "His Supremacy must scan the items he duplicates molecule by molecule, including any Groaci allergy dust that's incidentally included."

"Heavens, close it at once, Retief! One grain of that, and my sinuses will burst into flame!"

"I'd like to borrow this, Mr. Magnan."

"Take it and welcome!"

"To fill the gap, I'll trade you my plastic-and-diamond Sunburst for a perfect Staff Meeting attendance record."

"You made every meeting?" Magnan asked as he switched medals.

"Nope, missed them all."

"One day, Retief, you're going to miss something important that way," Magnan said sharply.

"Perhaps, Mr. Magnan. But I still like the odds."

9.

A horde of gaily caparisoned Quahoggians thronged the gaudily decorated duodenum when the Terrans arrived. For the occasion, their hosts had squeezed themselves into vaguely humanoid shapes so as to fit inside variations of Terran diplomatic garb. Soft music oozed from the walls; silent-pseudopoded servitors pa.s.sed among the guests with trays of gla.s.ses. Sloonge came forward to meet them, unrecognizable in a vast purple suit which threatened to burst at every seam.

"Ah, there you are," he cried, gripping his guests' hands with large, jelly-soft members extruded for the purpose. "Well, how do you like our little gathering? Rather gay, eh?"

"It's so... so silent," Magnan said. "A whole roomful of people, and not a word being said."

"Ah, an oversight, easily corrected! We'll whip up some vocal cords in a trice!" Sloonge's imitation eyes-large, pale-violet spots on the blob he used for a head-blurred and ran together as he concentrated silently.

"I've seen noses running," Magnan whispered to Retief as that member slowly flowed out across the Quahoggian's face. "But not like that!"

From a nearby group, a babble of conversation started up, at a barely subintelligible level. Others joined in; in half a minute a high-pitched roar filled the great chamber like a Niagara of small talk.

"Ah, that's more like it, eh?" Sloonge verbalized in a voice like boiling tar. "Nothing like a few tribal background phenomena to put a being at ease, I always say."

"Remarkable," Magnan said, accepting a proffered c.o.c.ktail. "By the way, I haven't yet laid eyes on Amba.s.sador Wrothwax..." He craned his neck to see over the crowd; noticing what he was doing, the crowd instantly shrank by a head-in many cases, literally.

"And now," Sloonge said hurriedly, "may I present a member of His Supremacy's court? They're thrilled at the prospect of meeting you, and-"

"Delighted," Magnan said. "By the way-where is His Excellency?"

"Where is he, you say?" Sloonge repeated. "Yes, well, as to that-to be perfectly candid-not that I haven't been perfectly candid all along-but what I mean is, now I'm going to be even more candid-"

"Yes, yes?"

"Candidly, as I say-no one seems to know."

"You mean-he stepped out and didn't leave word?"

"Worse than that, Mr. Magnan. He was last seen two days ago. He's gone-vanished-disappeared!"

"What again?" Magnan's voice broke. "But-look here! You can't just go around losing Terran Amba.s.sadors!"

"Shhh! Not so loud! His Supremacy doesn't know yet!"

Magnan drew himself up stiffly. "Then, sir, it is time he be notified!"

"Impossible! It would throw him into a case of the sulks, and you know what that means."

"As it happens, I do not," Magnan said frostily.

Sloonge threw out his temporary arms. "He turns blue; the walls get clammy; utilities are shot to h.e.l.l; and the food---" The Minister shuddered, an effect like a ripple in a bathtub full of guava jelly. "No, no, far better we simply carry on quietly; he'll never know the difference."

"Impossible, Mr. Minister," Magnan said firmly. "I must request the use of your facilities to notify the Undersecretary at once."

"Unfortunately," Sloonge said, "that will not be possible."

"I wonder at the rather curious failure of communications due to a storm which, it now appears, is actually a spell of mild weather," Magnan snapped. "Very well; my a.s.sociate and I shall be forced to adopt sterner measures!"