Robert Asprin - Phule's Company

There was a few moments' pause, then the reply came through, in notably more serious tones.

"All right, Willard. What have you got?"

"Does Uncle Frank still own that development company? The one that buys up cheap swamps, then tries to convert them to usable land?"

"I think so. Last thing I heard, he was using it as a tax write-off. It's always been a marginal operation, and-"

"Get on the horn to him as fast as you can and buy it up... along with any other swampland you can get your hands on."

"Just a second..."

There was another pause, this one broken by muffled comments through the speaker.

"Okay," came the elder Phule's voice again. "The wheels are in motion. I suppose there's a reason I'm doing this?"

"You bet there is. I've got a deal on the line: a whole new alien race looking for swampland. No development necessary. Just let them know where it is."

"New aliens? What have they got to offer in exchange?"

"I figure there's a wealth of new technology to be bartered for, but for this particular deal how does exclusive production and distribution rights on a new weapon sound to you?"

"How new?"

"We're talking a stun gun... easily portable power pack... effective range approximately three hundred meters. Law enforcement is the most obvious market, but I'm sure you can think of others."

"Sounds good so far. Who's their agent?"

The Legionnaires smiled along with their commander.

"That's the bad news, Dad. I am. Don't worry, though... I'm sure we can work something out."

"Yeah... sure. Just like last time. Well, give me a call when you're ready to squat down on the horse blankets and hammer out the details. Just do me a favor and don't ever tell me what your commission is. Okay?"

"It's a deal. Over and out."

Phule shut down his communicator, drawing his first deep breath since the initial call on the aliens had come in.

His commission. He hadn't even thought about that. Wonder if the Zenobians had any need for the mineral rights to their swamps... here or within the territory they already controlled?

Journal #162

While it is difficult to clearly define where one segment of my employer's career ends and another begins, the first phase of his time with the Space Legion came to its climax, not with his encounter with the Zenobians, but with a "visit" from certain high-ranking members of the Legion Headquarters staff.

It seems that, with the single-mindedness so typical of bureaucracies everywhere, they were less concerned with the results of my employer's actions than with the methods and procedures he utilized to achieve them.

The general public was usually apathetic regarding the movements of the Space Legion-even its high-ranking officers. As such, the party from Legion Headquarters was more than a little surprised at the crowd of civilians waiting for them when they disembarked from the shuttlecraft at the Haskin's Planet spaceport. Most were curiosity seekers, to be sure, but there was at least a token attendance from the fifth estate, as the party was quick to discover.

"Jennie Higgens, Interstellar News Service," the reporter announced, blocking the path of the first Legionnaire in the party with her body, microphone, and camera crew. "Is it true that you're here to punish Captain Jester, the commander of the Space Legion company stationed here on Haskin's Planet, for his recent confrontation with the Zenobians?"

"No comment," Colonel Battleax mumbled, trying to edge around the obstacle. Despite her criticisms of Phule's activity with the media, the truth was she herself only had limited experience in dealing with reporters, and those encounters had left her wary and guarded in their presence.

"But if Captain Jester is not going to be punished, why was he relieved of command and placed under house arrest right after that incident?" the reporter persisted.

"The Space Legion felt it was its obligation to the citizens of the civilized planets we serve to suspend Captain Jester's authority until an investigation could be conducted to determine the propriety, not to mention the legality, of his actions."

General Blitzkrieg was one of the three ranking officers who made up the board which governed the Legion. Though he was as startled as Battleax at their reception, he was also nearing retirement and quickly reached the decision that a little media exposure wouldn't hurt his efforts to obtain postretirement employment. If nothing else, it might increase his chances of finding a publisher for his memoirs.

"So your actual purpose here is to perform that investigation rather than to court-martial Captain Jester as rumored?" Jennie said, shifting her attention easily to the talker of the group.

"That is correct," the general said, "though we are prepared to convene a court-martial if the investigation warrants it."

Blitzkrieg had only meant to cover himself for when the anticipated court-martial took place, but the reporter pounced on his implication.

"Could you tell our viewers why Captain Jester, who recently averted a potentially hostile alien invasion of the settlement here on Haskin's Planet, might be subject to court-martial and discipline by the Space Legion?"

The general leveled his best steely gaze at the reporter.

"Young lady," he said, "you are employed by the Interstellar News Service as a reporter... is that correct?"

"Yes, I am," Jennie answered firmly, though she was unsure where the question was leading.

"Do you feel that position authorizes you to negotiate a peace treaty with an alien race, such as the Zenobians?"

"Of course not."

"Excuse me, Ms. Higgens," Colonel Battleax said, breaking her self-imposed silence, "but if, as a reporter-or in any other capacity-you were the first to make contact with a force of potentially hostile aliens, would you feel justified to do or say whatever was necessary to remove the immediate threat to yourself and others, regardless of your actual authority?"

"That will be enough, Colonel," Blitzkrieg snapped before the reporter could answer. "I believe this interview is over, Ms. Higgens. We will release a formal statement of the Legion's position upon the completion of our investigation."

Turning on his heel, he strode off toward the spaceport terminal, with Battleax trailing along behind.

Bringing up the back of the party, Major Joshua made no effort to hide his grimace of distaste. He had been the silent witness to this argument between the colonel and the general for the entire trip here, and they seemed no closer to an agreement than when the voyage started. At least it would all be over soon, except that indications were that he would be placed in command of the Omega Company to oversee its dismantling and reassignment after the court-martial... for the general was determined that there would be one. The major viewed both these occurrences with equal lack of enthusiasm, yet both seemed inevitable.

"'Saved the planet from an invasion by hostile aliens,'" Blitzkrieg fumed, mimicking the reporter's voice. "Do you believe this bullshit?"

"You must admit though, General, it's a pleasant change to have the Legion getting hero treatment by the media, isn't it?" Colonel Battleax said, unable to keep herself from twisting the knife a little.

"It would be nicer if it were justified," the General snarled irritably. "From the reports that were filed, the Zenobians were scared to death and just wanted to get back off-planet with their hides intact. To my thinking, that's a far cry from an invasion."

Both the colonel and the major refrained from pointing out that the general himself had passed up numerous opportunities to correct the mistaken impression created and maintained by the media. By unspoken agreement, the Headquarters delegation was united in its desire to keep the favorable publicity generated for the Legion by the stories of the Zenobian "invasion." What divided them was the question of whether or not they retain that impression while punishing the man who was at the focus of the incident. Battleax didn't think it could be done... not that she had any real desire to punish Phule in the first place.