Robert Asprin - Phules Paradise

Stilman fixed a cold, level gaze on her.

"It's not funny," he said. "These soldier boys of yours haven't shown me much so far, but I'll tell you, this casino has some of the toughest employees I've ever seen. Where did Huey find them, anyway?"

"You'll have to ask him the next time you talk," Max said, suppressing a smile of her own. "Not tonight, though. While I don't think there will be any trouble as long as you're just here as a guest, it probably wouldn't be prudent if Mr. Martin were seen conversing with us or any of our known associates this evening."

"Yeah ... well ... it's all nice and easy for you to say `Don't worry,'" Stilman growled, glancing around once more, "but you aren't the one they'll be coming after if you're wrong. I don't know why I had to be here, anyway."

"You don't, really," Maxine said. "Realizing, though, that you and your men have had to put up with being roughed up and humiliated due to my policy of no rough stuff during our various diversionary probes, I thought you might enjoy being around `for the kill,' as it were."

"What? For this?" Stilman made a small gesture at the casino floor. "I suppose it was a nice thought, but this is about as exciting as watching grass grow."

Maxine cocked a regal eyebrow at him. "I know you sometimes think me dull, Mr. Stilman, and perhaps in comparison to the excitement of the astroball circuit, I am. You should recall, however, that I also have a love of the dramatic. Rest assured, that things will get much more lively soon-in fact, in about fifteen minutes, I'd say."

"Lively like how?"

Maxine returned her gaze to the casino floor. "Do you ever play the slots, Mr. Stilman?"

"Not since I first got here," Stilman responded. "I tried them once, just because it seemed the thing to do at a casino, but they always seemed to be pretty much a sucker bet to me."

"That's quite correct," Max said with a nod. "They're popular with the tourists, and because of that they provide a surprisingly high income for any casino. Even the lure of a high jackpot, however, doesn't offset the fact that the odds are depressingly high against the player."

"Yeah. So?" Stilman pressed, but Maxine was not about to be rushed.

"Take that island of machines over there, for example," she said, indicating a cluster of slots with a nod of her head. "They only accept fifty-dollar tokens to play, but there's a progressive jackpot attached to them, with a guaranteed minimum of ten million dollars. Of course, if you read the fine print on the machine, you have to bet the maximum of five tokens and hit a very rare combination of images to qualify for the big jackpot."

"Are you saying that someone's going to win the jackpot tonight? Ten million dollars?"

Stilman craned his neck to peer at the machines, obviously impressed.

Maxine smiled. "I know I've said it before, Mr. Stilman, but you habitually think too small. You'll notice that, like all casinos today, Mr. Gunther is using the video-image slot machines as opposed to the old models that mechanically match the various images. This both reduces the maintenance necessary, since there are fewer moving parts, and lets the house control the odds more closely, as the payout rate is controlled by the central computer which all the machines are tied into-the computer, if you'll recall, that we've paid substantially to gain access to."

She paused to check her watch again.

"Now, in about thirteen minutes, a sleeping program we've had planted in that computer is going to cut in and change the odds for that cluster of slots down to one in fifty. Then I think we'll see some excitement."

"You mean they're all going to start paying out? At ten million dollars a pop?" Even Stilman's legendary calm was shattered as he gaped openly at Maxine.

"Realistically I'm afraid it will only work a few times before they pull the plug," she said. "The way I see it, the first jackpot will cause a stir, and the management will try to play it up big for the publicity. The second will startle them, but they'll still try to maintain a generous front."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"When the third jackpot hits, however, they'll know there's something wrong and shut down the system. Of course, that decision takes time, both to make and to initiate. If we're lucky, we should hit one, maybe two more jackpots before they can put a stop to it."

"Thirty to fifty million dollars," Stilman said, saying the words in a soft, almost reverent voice.

"Before you ask," Max added with a smile, "those are, of course, our people manning the key machines right now. No sense letting all that money fall into the wrong hands."

"At ten thousand dollars a minute," Laverna put in.

Max blinked. "What's that, Laverna?"

"Five fifty-dollar tokens per pull, times ten machines, times at least four pulls a minute, is ten thousand dollars a minute they're pumping into those machines by my count," her aide clarified. "I assume they're only playing minimum bets until the right time comes, but even if they only play for ten minutes after the flag goes up, that's one hundred thousand dollars they'll be going through."

"The end profits more than justify the investment," Maxine said flatly, annoyed at having her explanation interrupted. "Now then, Mr. Stilman, as I was saying ... As you can tell, that many high jackpots will put a severe drain on Mr. Rafael's funds. He doesn't dare not pay off the jackpots, or the negative publicity would drive him out of business. Combined with the losses we've planned for him at the tables, however, it should keep him from making the necessary payment on his loan. What's more, word of the multiple jackpots should get sufficient media coverage that I doubt he'll be able to find anyone willing to let him borrow the money."

Maxine was smiling again. A sweet, grandmotherly smile.

"In short, Mr. Stilman, when those jackpot bells start to sound, what you'll be hearing is the Fat Chance Casino sliding into our cash drawer."

"Yes, Laverna?"

"We've got a problem."

Maxine followed her aide's gaze and saw the unmistakable figure of Willard Phule, the security force commander, pausing to watch the activity at their targeted cluster of slot machines.

"I thought Huey was supposed to come up with something to keep him busy when the program was scheduled to cut in."

"He was," Maxine said through tight lips, "but obviously he hasn't. Well, there's only one thing to do."

"What's that?" Laverna said as Max started forward.

"Provide the distraction myself," the crime leader explained, flashing a quick smile. "Besides, I think it's about time the two of us talked directly."

"Good evening. Captain Jester."

The Legionnaire commander turned and smiled vaguely at being addressed by name.

"Good evening," he said with reflexive politeness.

"I was wondering if I might buy you a drink?" the woman continued.

The Legionnaire smiled. "Thank you, but I'm on duty."

"I see. I thought you might be able to make an exception this time. My name is Maxine Pruet."

As expected, that caught Phule's entire attention, though he made a deliberate effort to remain outwardly casual.

"Of course," he said. "Forgive me for not recognizing you from your picture."

"What picture was that, Captain?"

"Well, it was two pictures, actually," Phule said. "One profile, one full face."

For a moment Maxine's eyes narrowed dangerously, then she caught herself and smiled again, though a little forced this time.

"No need to be insulting, Mr. Phule," she said levelly. "You probably know as well as I do that I've never been arrested."

"Quite right." The commander nodded, and for a moment a flash of weariness showed on his face. "I'm sorry ... that was a cheap shot. You just caught me, a bit by surprise, is all. Here, let me take you up on that drink."