"Good mornings, Terry," a knobby, brown-mottled, four-foot alien with a bewildering variety of appendages waved a couple of the latter at the diplomat. "How's trick? Say, I've been meaning to ask ones of you fellow a question: any chance of you Terry supplying a little economic aid in the forms of a new roofs for my pad here?" the Skweeman gesticulated with half a dozen limbs. "Every time it rain, all the squish goes out of my mud pack." "Sorry, Mr. Uptakapacheenobufers, but you know the ground-rules. Much as we Terries want to impress you people with a Public Works Project, it can't be anything useful. According to the Underground Deep-Think Teams back at Sector, that might be taken as an implied criticism of your culture." The Skweeman made a rubbery noise indicating mild disappointment. "Yous know I'd likes to throw my weights behind the Terry program, but without a few goody to show for it, what's the percentage?" "I see what you mean, Mr. Uptakapacheenobufers. I'd better start by installing a couple of new transistors in that language teacher I lent you.
What do You think about Retief-Ambassador To Space?
