"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.
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——