ou notice the kind of shocked little gasp I gave
when he did it?"

The Terrestrials took their places, Retief at the end. The table before
them was of bare green wood, with an array of shallow pewter dishes.

Some of the Yill at the table were in plain gray, others in black. All
eyed them silently. There was a constant stir among them as one or
another rose and disappeared and others sat down. The pipes and reeds
were shrilling furiously, and the susurration of Yillian conversation
from the other tables rose ever higher in competition.

A tall Yill in black was at the ambassador's side now. The nearby Yill
fell silent as he began ladling a whitish soup into the largest of the
bowls before the Terrestrial envoy. The interpreter hovered, watching.

"That's quite enough," Ambassador Spradley said, as the bowl overflowed.
The Yill servant rolled his eyes, dribbled more of the soup into the
bowl.

"Kindly serve the other members of my staff," the ambassador said. The
interpreter said something in a low voice. The servant moved hesitantly
to the next stool and ladled more soup.

* * * * *

Retief watched, listening to the whispers around him. The Yill at the
table were craning now to watch. The soup ladler was ladling rapidly,
rolling his eyes sideways. He came to Retief, reached out with the full
ladle for the bowl.

"No," Retief said.

The ladler hesitated.

"None for me," Retief said.

The interpreter came up and motioned to the servant, who reached again,
ladle brimming.

"I ... DON'T ... LIKE ... IT!" Retief said, his voice distinct in the
sudden hush. He stared at the interpreter, who stared back, then waved
the servant away.

"Mr. Retief!" a voice hissed.

Retief looked down at the table. The ambassador was leaning forward,
glaring at him, his face a mottled crimson.

"I'm warning you, Mr. Retief," he said hoarsely. "I've eaten sheep's
eyes in the Sudan, ka swe in Burma, hundred-year _cug_ on Mars and
everything else that has been placed before me in the course of my
diplomatic career. And, by the holy relics of Saint Ignatz, you'll do
the same!" He snatched up a spoon-like utensil and dipped it into his
bowl.

"Don't eat that, Mr. Ambassador," Retief said.

The ambassador stared, eyes wide. He opened his mouth, guided the spoon
toward it----

Retief stood, gripped the table under its edge and heaved. The immense
wooden slab rose and tilted, dishes sliding. It cra