Robert Asprin - Phule Me Twice

"No problem, Sushi," said Phule. "Remember, that was our main mission when we came here-to help Qual's people find the Hidden Ones, and now that you've found them, it'd look pretty bad not to give you credit for it."

"We're going to have to come up with some name other than Hidden Ones," said Sushi. "They aren't hiding, they're just very small-"

"Nanoids," suggested Mahatma. "From nanotech-"

"Well, that's catchy enough," said Sushi. "Nanoids-"

"A barbarism," sniffed Beeker. But the name stuck.

Jennie Higgins smiled. Her return to Omega Company-once she'd gotten past the new CO-had been like a reunion with old friends. When she stepped into the mess hall, Sergeant Escrima had made a point of filling her tray himself, proudly pointing out his new gourmet creations. Grinning broadly, Chocolate Harry had given her a purple camouflage T-shirt and fatigue cap with Omega Company insignia to wear-an instant icebreaker when she sat down to chat with the legionnaires. Brandy had thrown her arm around her like a kid sister and taken her on a personal tour of the modular base camp that was the company's field headquarters on Zenobia.

In fact, except for Major Botchup's snotty adjutant Lieutenant Snipe, everyone in the company had been eager to make her welcome. And-except for one subject-they'd been more than willing to talk to her. But the minute she mentioned the captain, their expressions turned serious. "You gotta talk to him yourself," said Chocolate Harry, and everyone else had given her some version or another on the same line, without responding to her attempts to pump them for more information. Jennie was very good at pumping interview subjects, and to hit such a pronounced dry spell was in itself unusual.

The problem was, she'd been unable to find Captain Jester-or Willard Phule, to give him the name he'd gone by before he'd joined the Legion. Immediately after her arrival, she'd spotted him sitting under a sort of awning with a pile of paperwork on a table in front of him while everyone else in the company acted as if an invasion was imminent. But Lieutenant Snipe had whisked her off to the command center before her old friend noticed her. When she returned, he'd disappeared, and nobody seemed able to tell her where he was. In fact, when she asked where his actual quarters were, nobody could tell her. They weren't trying to hide it from her-she was too good a reporter to miss the signs of that. They just didn't know.

The other area she'd been unable to learn anything useful about was their mission here on Zenobia. Oh, everybody agreed that the Zenobians had called the company in to advise them how to deal with some mysterious problem. But, while everybody had an opinion, nobody seemed to know for sure just what the problem was. Even the Zenobians themselves had apparently never seen the mysterious invaders who were causing all the fuss. And the only one on the base who might have some more detailed information on the subject was none other than Captain Jester: the one man she couldn't find to talk to.

It had begun to gnaw at her. She'd racked her brain for reasons. Perhaps Phule was ill (she'd already heard the story of how he'd walked in from the desert, from far enough away that his hoverjeep hadn't been found yet). Perhaps the new major's arrival had been such a blow to his normally very healthy ego that he couldn't bear to talk to her. Perhaps it was some kind of conspiracy by top Legion brass to keep him from talking to the press. Perhaps it was something she had unwittingly done.

So it was almost a shock to come out of her tent-Major Botchup had allowed the press corps to set up its own little enclave within the legion perimeter-and see the captain sitting under the awning on a camp stool, riffling through a pile of papers. His expression was good-natured as always, but his body language said "Man Working-Do Not Disturb" as plainly as if he'd hung out a sign.

Jennie hadn't gotten to where she was in her profession without being willing to ignore that kind of message, even from people she didn't know. Willard Phule had taken her out wining and dining and dancing in first-class restaurants on two planets and one luxury space resort. More to the point, he'd given her blanket permission to interview any and every member of his company, with holocams running. He had been her best contact for one of the biggest stories of her career. She sensed that whatever was going on right now might be the single most fascinating twist in the entire story to date. And she certainly wasn't going to let the fact that he was busy get in her way of talking to him.

"Hey, there you are at last! How are you doing?" she called, waving heartily and striding purposefully over to where he sat. She straightened her new purple camouflage hat and smiled her best smile.

Phule raised his head at the sound of her voice and looked right through her. Jennie stopped dead in her tracks. She was used to being looked at-with appreciation by the male lookers, often with envy by the females. On any given day, several billion pairs of eyes might be scanning her face on holo sets all across the Galaxy. And when she walked into a place, it was a given that she'd be the center of attention.

To be looked at with a complete lack of interest-to be looked at as if she didn't even exist-and by someone with whom she'd shared good times and helped in bad times, that was beyond the pale. Jennie couldn't even begin to understand it. She tried to meet Phule's eyes for a moment, but she might as well have been trying to stare down a statue. After a moment, she averted her gaze. This wasn't the man she knew, and whatever had happened to him, she wanted nothing to do with it. She turned away and stumbled off in utter defeat for the first time in her long career.

Under the awning, the captain looked around in puzzlement, and muttered, "I could have sworn somebody was calling me." Then he shrugged and turned back to the pile of papers.

Journal #593

Our return journey to the Legion camp was slower than originally planned, since not all the legionnaires were able to ride in the hoverjeep. Since my employer thought it useful for the party to arrive all at once, he devised a shuttle system, whereby a part of the party would ride to a point within walking distance of camp and wait while the jeep returned for the balance of the party. Eventually, after three trips, all the personnel and equipment were within striking distance of the destination.

Now, though, my employer paused to consider how to go about entering the camp. With a new commanding officer in place, it was not going to be the triumphant homecoming he had envisioned. In fact, it might bear uncomfortable resemblances to attending a hanging-as guest of honor.

"Very well, Captain Clown, we are here," said Flight Leftenant Qual. The party had paused in a thick pack of scrub trees, just within sight of the Legion camp. "Now our difficulty is to bring you into the camp lacking any incident."

"I fear a bigger problem is going to be smuggling out that robot without the new commanding officer learning of it," said Beeker. He turned to Phule and said, "I told you it was a risky idea to depend on it, sir."

"Oh, I'm not worried about the robot," said Phule. "We'll have Sushi bring it out of camp. It's attuned to my vocal patterns, so I can reprogram it verbally. Beeker, you'll put the robot in the hoverjeep and transport it back to the Nanoids' base. When you get there, you'll take the translator off the Port-a-Brain and connect it to the robot so it can communicate with the Nanoids. Then you come back with the jeep, and don't forget the Port-a-Brain! I'll put out the story that I left you behind on some private mission. If everything goes right, they'll never even suspect there was more than one of me here."

"Seems a shame to waste the potential for creative chaos," said Sushi. "We could play some interesting games with the major's head if we had both you and the robot here."