Phule Me Twice (3 page)

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Authors: Robert Asprin,Peter J. Heck

Tags: #sf, #Fiction, #General, #Space Opera, #Science Fiction, #Life on other planets, #Fantasy fiction, #Robots, #Phule's Company (Fictitious characters), #Phule; Willard (Fictitious character)

BOOK: Phule Me Twice
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Phule fidgeted with a pencil, looking back and forth between his top sergeant and the chaplain. "I see your point, Brandy," he said. "But the chaplain's got a point, too. The company's morale is the best it's ever been. And there is that clause in the Legionnaire's Bill of Rights..."

"Why, thank you, Captain," said the chaplain. "I didn't want to have to mention that clause myself. A feller shouldn't haul out the heavy artillery first thing out of the box, y'know. But it certainly fits, if you look into it. We've got plenty of precedents on our side."

"So I've got to train and evaluate a batch of recruits that all look exactly alike?" Brandy put her hands on her hips and leaned over Phule's desk. "Maybe I'm going to have second thoughts about that early retirement option."

"Now, Brandy, don't blow this out of proportion," said Phule, rising to his feet. "How many of our legionnaires have had their appearance altered, anyway? It surely isn't more than three or four, is it?"

"Eleven," said Rev proudly.

"Eleven?" Phule asked, suddenly dubious.

"Eleven," said Brandy. "And two more have applied for it."

"Eleven." Phule drummed the pencil on the desktop for a moment; then, with a start, he put it down and clasped his hands together. "Well, that's a surprise," he said. "You seem to have been getting your message across very effectively, Rev."

The chaplain bowed his head. "I can't take much credit for it, Captain," he said with humility that seemed genuine enough. "My words have fallen on fertile ground, is all."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Brandy, bristling.

"Easy, Sarge," said Rev. "No criticism implied. Why, all I mean is, the King's an inspiration for anybody what thinks they can better theirselves. I reckon that could be all of us, if we jes' look at it right."

"I don't want to look at it at all," said Brandy with a significant glance at the chaplain's profile. "Besides, you still haven't told me how I'm supposed to tell one of these eleven legionnaires from another when they all look the same."

"Oh, it ain't all that hard, Sarge," said Rev. "You jes' have to value each and everybody as an individual in their own right, you know? Once you get past the surface, there's all kinds of differences between folks. How tall somebody is, or the exact color of their eyes and hair, or the shape of their hands. You learn pretty soon, Sarge, believe me. I've got plenty experience at it."

"Well, that's good," said Phule, rubbing his hands. "I've been saying all along that we need to take advantage of the individual capabilities of our people, and this is a chance to learn even better what those capabilities are. And there may be advantages to having a group of legionnaires an outsider can't tell apart. I'm sure we'll think of a few now that we've got the capability, won't we, Sergeant?"

"I guess so," said Brandy, looking at Rev out of the corner of her eye. "Well, if that's how it's going to be, I guess I can handle it. I'll have the recruits wear extra-large name tags while I'm learning to spot all these subtle differences between them."

"Good thinking, Brandy," said Phule. "I knew we could solve this if we put our minds to it." His tone and manner made it clear that the matter was solved, as far as he was concerned, and the sergeant and chaplain quickly took the hint and left the office. And that, Phule thought, was the end of it.

 

Journal #497

The robot my employer had gotten to impersonate him at the Fat Chance Casino on Lorelei was a deluxe model from Andromatic, built to his specifications. Its range of behavior was limited but sufficient to convince people that my employer was still on the job. Generally, it would sit behind a desk and appear to be working. But it also walked around the casino, sat down for drinks with customers, carried on conversations-and broke off the minute the topic strayed beyond generalities. If anybody really needed to talk to Captain Jester, there was always the communicator.

 

What my employer left out of account was that his company had begun to attract attention in its own right. The success of the Landoor amusement parks-several lightyears away from Lorelei-had put his picture on holovid screens all over the Galaxy. While a certain amount could be explained by rapid travel, there was always the danger that somebody would realize that there had to be two Phules.

 

The danger had been pointed out to him, but of course he dismissed it. "Nobody takes the news seriously, " he had argued when demonstrating the robot to the Fat Chance's board of directors. "Half the time, they just use stock footage of public figures, and nobody notices. " What he left out of account was that his enemies were paying particularly close attention to him.

 

Two shadowy figures had been lurking in the corridor leading from the Fat Chance Casino's gourmet dining room back toward the Legion quarters for nearly an hour. Luckily for them, nobody had passed during the entire time. Or perhaps it was more than just luck; they'd scouted out the territory carefully in advance and knew the odds were in their favor when they decided to lay their ambush there. But it had been longer than they'd expected, and it was a definite relief when they finally heard footsteps approaching.

"Here he comes," whispered the shorter of the pair, peering out from under the potted plant behind which they were hiding.

"About farkin' time," grumbled her companion. "Any longer, and I was gonna hafta water this here fern."

"Shhh!" warned the other in a barely audible whisper. "We'll blow the whole plan if he hears us."

But their quarry showed no sign of having heard them. The footsteps came closer, neither hesitating nor deviating from their course. The two crouched in anticipation, frozen for a moment; then, as the footsteps came near the plant, the woman stepped quickly out into the corridor. "Captain, you have to help me!" she said.

The captain paused. "Excuse me, ma'am. What sort of help do you need?"

"A man's been following me," she said, looking behind her. The captain's glance followed hers, and as he was distracted, her partner emerged from the shadows behind him, holding a large sack in both hands. He raised his arms, preparing to place it over the captain's head and shoulders; but some slight noise must have given him away. The captain ducked and stepped to the left, and the would-be captor succeeding only in striking him on the shoulder. In an instant, the captain had turned and lashed out with a kick that the captor just barely eluded.

"That's him!" cried the woman, stepping back. The man with the sack cursed and stepped backward. He dropped the sack and turned to run. The captain took a step in pursuit, but then the woman gave out a little cry and collapsed in a heap on the floor. As the captain turned to help her, the attacker escaped around the corner.

"Are you all right, miss?" said the captain. He threw a brief glance over his shoulder to make sure the attacker had not returned, then turned his gaze on her again. Even in the dim lighting, her thick dark hair and flashing eyes would have made a strong impression on any man not entirely devoid of feeling.

"I think so," she said weakly. Her lashes fluttered, and she made a valiant attempt to sit up but slumped against his chest as her energy failed. "I think I'll be safe if you can just take me to my room."

"Yes, miss," he said. "I'll get you there, and I can have security keep tabs on you for the rest of your stay, if you'd like. We don't want our guests to feel unsafe in the Fat Chance. In fact, I feel I should apologize for what's happened so far."

"No apology necessary, Captain," she said. "If you could just help me up..."

Helping her get up and walking her to her room was a somewhat complicated process. The young woman was evidently weakened by her ordeal, since she continued to lean much of her weight on the captain as he led her down the corridor. At the door to her room, he waited while she found her key card and watched while she opened the door. "Do you need any more help, miss?" he asked.

"No, I should be all right," she said, smiling.

"Good," he said and took a step backward.

The young woman smiled bravely and began to close the door behind her, then suddenly said, "Oh!" and began to slump toward the floor again.

The captain stepped forward and caught her before the door closed. "Are you sure you're all right, miss?" he asked. "I can call the hotel doctor."

"I don't think I need a doctor," she said, leaning her weight on his chest. "But maybe you could help me get to my bed."

"Certainly, miss, and then I think I should call the doctor-just in case." He picked her up in his arms and carried her through the door to the side of the bed.

"Oh, you're so strong," she murmured, her lips close to his ear. Her arms twined around his neck.

The captain put her onto the bed and, gently disengaging himself from her grasp, stepped back and said, "Now, I'm going to call the doctor."

She began to protest, but he held a finger to his lips and said, "No-don't say anything. I suspect you need to rest."

He picked up the phone, touched a button, and spoke briefly to the person on the other end. After a few sentences, he nodded and hung up the receiver. "Dr. Gulkova's on duty tonight. She'll be right up. I'll wait until she comes, and then I'll make sure you're not disturbed. If there's anything else I can do for you, please get in touch with me. Any hotel operator can connect you directly to my office."

She lay back on the bed, listening. As he continued to speak, her face changed expression to a sultry pout. "You know what else you can do for me, Captain-don't pretend you don't. I'm beginning to think you don't like me."

The captain smiled. "Now, now, miss, don't worry yourself. I know you've been through a lot tonight. We'll make sure nobody annoys you for the rest of your stay with us."

The woman sat up in the bed and barked, "If you don't want anyone to annoy me, I suggest you get out of my room! I've had just about all of your goody-goody act I can stand."

"Of course, miss," said the captain, smiling. "I'll wait outside the door, and when the doctor comes, I'll leave." He turned and started to leave.

With an inarticulate shout, the woman reached down and grabbed one of her shoes off her foot and threw it with all her might at his retreating. But by then, he had the door almost closed behind him, and the missile bounced harmlessly off onto the floor. She slammed both fists onto the bed in frustration. "You bastard!" she cried. "You'll pay for this when we finally do catch you! You'll pay!

But the captain was already gone, the door closed behind him. If he had heard her outburst, he gave no sign at all.

 

The two local policemen standing in front of Phule's desk were obviously doing their best to stay calm and professional. The complainant, standing unsteadily on crutches between the policeman, wasn't.

Phule massaged the bridge of his nose. It had been a long day, filled with problems that required instant minute attention, and the burden of command was weighing particularly heavily on his shoulders this afternoon. Especially since, on top of everything else, he'd skipped lunch-not at all his usual routine. And now he had to deal with a civilian who insisted on having one of his men arrested. "Are you absolutely certain that the man who robbed you and damaged your restaurant was one of my legionnaires?" he asked.

"I seen him with these here eyes," said the restaurateur, a small man with a heavy Landooran accent that seemed incongruous in conjunction with his Japanese features and immaculate dress. "He was Legion, all right-wore the same black uniform as yours. And he done more than damage the place. It'll be a miracle if I can open up again any time this week."

"Well, that's serious enough to require some action, if it's the truth," said Phule. "But I can't discipline the whole company for one man's actions. We'll have to see if you can identify the one who did this."

"I'd know him anywhere," said the restaurateur. "That long greasy haircut, and that smirk on his face. Ain't a whole lot of people who'd look that way if they had any choice in it. My security holovid caught the whole thing, and there ain't much mistake."

A warning bell went off in the back of Phule's mind, but he maintained a calm expression. "If that's the case, I think we can take care of this business quickly. There are holo ID pictures of the entire company on file. Why don't you and the officers look through them and see if you can identify the robber? Then we'll call him in and see what he has to say for himself."

"Oh, that'll be just triff," said the restaurant owner sarcastically. "He'll lie and you'll take his word for it, and I'll end up springin' for the doctor bills."

Phule stood up abruptly and said coldly, "You don't know who you're talking to, do you, Mr. Takamine."

"Sure I do," sneered the restaurateur, drawing himself up to his full height-perhaps four inches shorter than Phule-and standing face-to-face with him. "You're the captain of this here Legion company. And when it comes to a quarrel between Legion and us poor locals, Legion sticks up for its own. Nothin' we can do but eat whatever shit you pile on our plate."

Phule put his finger in the middle of the man's chest. "You won't gain anything by using that kind of language, Mr. Takamine. I've offered to give you a chance to identify and confront the person you claim is responsible for the robbery and damage and for the injuries to yourself. Do you want to go ahead with this, or are you just here to make a disturbance?"

"I'll look," said the man. "But I ain't expecting much, I tell you for a fact."

Beeker led the policemen and Takamine to an outer office, where they could browse though the ID files. But Phule had a sinking feeling. The description of the legionnaire responsible sounded far too familiar. He'd thought the man had finally outgrown his penchant for getting into trouble with the law-at least, this kind of trouble. Well, if he had to teach the legionnaire a lesson, he'd do it, that was all.

Phule was pacing nervously in front of his desk when the door opened and Beeker returned. "I've set the gentlemen up with the viewer and the appropriate files, sir," he said. "I think we'll have an answer soon."

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