Pouncetrifle helped himself to a stimulating dram from his bar and sighed heavily.

"Sunrise in another ten hours or so, standard," he predicted, eyeing the pale glow in the east, against which the baroque towers of the town loomed in curliqued silhouette.  "As we know from bitter experience, the Creepies - that is to say, the Nether Furtheronians - will be launching their confounded putsch at first light.  I suppose that after the ceremony I'd best begin preparations for a hasty evacuation."

"Drat," Magnan said behind his hand.  "Just when I'd almost gotten my voucher files in order."

"Possibly we should consider sliding a two-acre flatbed under the whole operation," Retief suggested.  "Then we could gallop off, rock garden, parking lot, and all, every time we heard another rumor the front was shifting our way."

"Why - that might be a notion," Magnan agreed.  "That way we'd have tactical mobility without having to bother Sector with all these lease cancellations."

"On the other hand, HQ might start wondering why our homing beacon seemed to be creeping across the map," Retief pointed out, a comment unheard by the Cultural Attaché, who was busy passing the word forward.

"Golly, Mr. Ambassador," a junior political officer, occupying a forward jump seat only a yard from the great man's elbow, eagerly relayed the proposal.  "I wonder if Your Excellency's considered mounting the Embassy on wheels?  For easier relocation, you know, during retreats - or rather, during the periodic tactical territorial readjustments," he corrected his terminology hastily.

"Wheels, Lackluster?"  The Chief of Mission turned a watery eye on the subordinate bureaucrat.  "Aside from your unfortunate use of defeatist jargon, the image you conjure of my chancery jolting along the causeway behind a steam donkey like a condemned tenement being transported beyond reach of zoning regulations is not one I would care to offer the undersecretary as exemplifying my progress in pacifying this inhappy planet!"

"A slip of the head, Mr. Minister," Lackluster hastened to reassure his leader.  "Actually, it was Mr. Retief's idea.  I was just passing it along - sort of as a joke, you know."

"Joke, Marvin?"  Pouncetrifle smiled a small, bitter smile.  "I suggest you move back a row, my boy - or possibly two rows.  That should enable you to exchange japes with your cronies with greater convenience, at the same time making room here for a more serious-minded member of my staff."