Robert Asprin - Phules Paradise

In short, there was a studied sense of timelessness which permeated Lorelei-for a specific reason. The longer people gambled, the better it was for the casinos. While there might be the occasional "lucky hit" or "hot run," if the players kept betting long enough, the house odds would catch up with them, and all their winnings, plus whatever they were willing to lose of what they brought with them, ended up in the casino vaults.

This was the real trap of the Lorelei's song, and many who arrived by private ship left by public transport. Others, who could no longer afford even public transport, were absorbed into the station's work force until they could raise enough money to leave, which rarely happened, as they would usually succumb to the temptation of the tables once more, trying desperately to "build a stake" while the house yawned and raked in their savings. Those that did manage to escape, vowing never to return again, were quickly replaced by the next shipload of eager faces and fat wallets, each planning to have a good time and maybe win an instant fortune on a lucky roll or turn of a card.

There was a seemingly endless supply of these replacements, as the publicity machine of Lorelei was mercilessly effective, and unceasing in its quest to find yet one more way to keep the lure of Lorelei in front of the public. Thus, it was no surprise to insiders that the media had been alerted and was waiting when the Omega Mob arrived on Lorelei.

"Excuse me, Mr. Phule?"

The Legionnaire commander halted, not ten paces from stepping off the gangplank, and blinked in surprise at the figure blocking his way. The pudgy man was wearing a fluorescent-green jumpsuit with a large blue bow tie, leaving one with the quick impression of being confronted by a prize-winning frog.

"Actually it's `Captain Jester' when I'm on duty," he corrected gently.

"But you are Willard Phule? The megamillionaire turned soldier?"

Phule flinched a bit, as he always did when publicly confronted with his wealth-generated fame, and shot a quick glance at the company. The Legionnaires were ambling off the ship, some gawking at the casino light displays while others started to crowd close to see what was happening with their commander.

"That's correct," he said levelly.

"Great!" the man exclaimed, seizing Phule's hand and giving it a hurried pump. "Jake Herkamer, here. I was wondering if we could have a few minutes of your time for a quick interview on your new assignment?"

As he spoke, he made a magician's pass, and a microphone appeared in his hand. Simultaneously the portable floodlights came on, alerting Phule to the presence of holo cameras, which, until then, had been undetected.

"Umm ... could this wait until I get my troops settled in the hotel?" Phule hedged.

"Good point! Hey, guys! Get some shots of the soldiers before we lose them in the hotel!"

Phule felt his muscles tighten as the camera crew obediently began to pan over the gathering Legionnaires, who mugged or glowered for the cameras depending upon their individual inclination. While he had known all along that this assignment would put his force in the public eye more than ever before, he also knew that there were several Legionnaires who had joined up specifically to escape from their earlier lives, and were therefore quite nervous about having their pictures and current location broadcast by the media.

"Rembrandt ... Armstrong!"

"Sir!"

"Here, sir!"

The two lieutenants materialized at his side.

"Form the company up, over there, while I take care of this. If it runs more than a couple minutes, move them out to the hotel. Get them away from these cameras."

Turning back to the reporter as the junior officers started off, he forced a smile.

"I suppose I could spare a few minutes," he said.

"Great!" the reporter beamed. "Hey, guys! Over here! Start shooting. Now!"

He leaned into the microphone, showing an impressive number of teeth.

"We're here today with Willard Phule, or, as he's known in the secretive Space Legion, Captain Jester. He and his famous elite force of Legionnaires have just arrived on Lorelei. Tell me, Captain, are you and your force here for business or pleasure?"

Of course, I have no way of telling how the interview upon our arrival was received by the viewers, as it went out on stellarwide broadcast and, as I've mentioned before, I am not omnipresent.

From subsequent events, however, I feel I am able to project with some accuracy how it was viewed in at least two locations: back on Haskin's Planet and here on Lorelei.

"Hey, Jennie! Come here a sec! I think you'll want to see this!" Annoyed at the interruption, Jennie Higgens glanced up from the notes she was reviewing for that night's broadcast.

"What is it? I'm kinda busy here."

"Your boyfriend's being interviewed on interstellar, and Jake the Jerk's got him."

"Really?"

Jennie decided the notes could wait a little longer and joined the small cluster of newsroom staff crowding around the monitor bank. Due to the multiscreen nature of their business, they had the monitors set to display the broadcasts on flat screens to avoid the chaos of multiple projections.

"It's a bit of an experiment," Phule was saying, "a test to see if the Space Legion can be effective in more commonplace, civilian security roles. Of course, being stationed here on Lorelei is a real treat for my force. It really is a spectacular place. Can your cameras pick up some of the light displays behind us?"

Unnoticed by her fellow reporters, Jennie narrowed her eyes a bit at this. She had barely seen Phule in the weeks before his force's departure from Haskin's, and then only hurriedly-supposedly due to the pressures of preparing for their new assignment. So this was the tough duty he had been so engrossed in, eh?

"But don't you feel that the rather massive firepower of a Space Legion company is unnecessary for normal security duty?" the interviewer pressed, ignoring Phule's attempts to divert the interview from his force to the casino light displays.

"Oh, we won't be carrying our normal weapons on duty in the casino, Jake." Phule laughed easily. "But I've always found it's easier not to use equipment you have than to use equipment you don't have, if you know what I mean." For the briefest second, his eyes flickered from the interviewer to look directly into the camera, as if he were speaking personally to one of the viewers.

"I've got to admit, your boy gives good interviews," one of the reporters commented to Jennie. "He's giving the impression of being just plain folks, but still managing to come across as someone you wouldn't want to tangle with. Nothing to scare the tourists off there."

"Yeah, but look at some of the plug-uglies in his crew, though. They scare me just looking at them."

"Those aren't the really mean ones," Jennie put in. "Wait until you see ..."

Her voice trailed off to silence as she stared at the monitor, focusing now on the figures in the formation behind Phule rather than on the commander himself. As if reading her thoughts, the camera did a slow pan of the force, showing the formation from one end to the other.

A small frown appeared on the reporter's forehead as she studied each face in turn. Something was wrong here. While she was interviewing them, not to mention while she was dating their company commander, she had gotten to recognize many of the Legionnaires on sight-and there were faces missing in the formation!

Where was Chocolate Harry? He would stand out in any crowd. And the woman standing next to Tusk-anini was small, but she wasn't Super Gnat. For that matter, where was Brandy? The company's top sergeant should be standing prominently in front of the formation, yet she was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you taping this?" Jennie asked, not taking her eyes from the screen.