Robert Asprin - Phule Me Twice

Having finally abandoned his futile attempts to intimidate Tusk-anini, Snipe found a challenge more worthy of his efforts: keeping himself from dozing off. He was well on his way to losing that battle, as well, when something in the faint buzz of comm traffic brought him to full alertness.

"What was that?" he said, staring in Mother's direction. "I could have sworn I heard something about intruders."

"imperthnthnthn," explained Mother, sinking lower behind her console.

"I hear it, too," said Tusk-anini. He marked his place and set the book down on the desk, then stood up and walked over behind Mother, looking over her shoulder at the readouts on her console. His piggish countenance took on even more of a frown than it usually wore.

Lieutenant Snipe stood and made as if to join him, but the Volton raised a huge paw and shook his head with unmistakable meaning. Snipe managed to resist the impulse to point out that, as an officer, he should be giving the orders. Instead, he asked in a somewhat timorous voice, "What's going on?"

"Don't know yet," said Tusk-anini. "Snipe be quiet; Mother listening."

Snipe opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say a word, all hell broke loose.

Journal #600

My employer had thought that getting inside the Legion camp would put him in position to untangle all his remaining problems. He would find the robot and reprogram it verbally to act as liaison to the Nanoids, then take its place-his own proper place-as a Legion officer. From there, he could present his solution to the Zenobians' problems and possibly use the prestige of that accomplishment to regain command of his company. It would take some politicking and an end run around the Legion brass, but with patience-and the liberal use of a Dilithium Express card-it ought to be possible.

Little did he realize just how fast events were already moving.

"Where you want to go now, Captain Clown?" Flight Leftenant Qual asked in a reptilian whisper. Once inside the Legion camp's perimeter, the group had taken cover behind Chocolate Harry's supply depot, a Legion-issue prefabricated metal shed across the compound from the MBC where most of the company were undoubtedly sleeping.

"I'm not sure," said Phule. Then, after a pause, he said, "I should probably try to find the robot so I can reprogram it and take its place. Does anybody have any idea where it's quartered?"

"Officer's quarters, I'd think," said Sushi, peering around a corner of the shed. "You don't want to go there. You're likely to run into the major."

"That's no problem," said Phule. "He'll just think I'm the robot. No, he doesn't know about the robot, does he?"

"None of us knew about the robot until you told us," said Sushi. He chuckled. "I know a few people who're going to feel pretty weird when they find out it wasn't really you they were talking to. I heard a couple of funny stories before I left-"

"Shhh! Something's happening," said Brick, who'd been keeping lookout for the party.

"What?" said Phule, instantly alert. But the answer came not from Brick but from the MBC, where a Klaxon began to blow. The legionnaires looked at one another. That signal had been drummed into their nerves by drill after drill. It was the battle stations alarm. Either it was an extremely ill-timed drill, or someone thought the camp was under attack!

"What do we do, Captain?" asked Sushi. Already, armed legionnaires were beginning to emerge from the MBC, headed for their assigned places.

Phule didn't miss a beat. "You know what you're supposed to do, all of you. You've all got your equipment. Now get to your battle stations and be ready for action."

"But...we just snuck into the camp," said Brick. "They must have us all listed as AWOL."

"They aren't going to argue with you as long as you're where you're supposed to be," said Phule. "Go ahead, it's the one place nobody'll pay any attention to you."

"He's right," said Sushi, giving Brick a shove. "If we stay here, we'll stick out like half a dozen sore thumbs. Come on, everybody head for your stations. Captain, you know where to find us when you need us."

"Right," said Phule. "Now, hurry up before somebody notices we didn't all come from the same place as everybody else."

The legionnaires didn't argue. The group split up as they each headed toward their assigned place. But Flight Leftenant Qual had no assigned place. He watched the others for a moment, then turned and said to Phule, "This is very good, but where does Captain Clown go?"

"First thing I have to do is let Beeker know what's up so he can get under cover," said Phule. "If the camp's on alert, somebody's likely to pick up the hoverjeep on the sensors and assume he's a hostile. I'm sure Beek can talk his way out of almost any kind of trouble, but I have a hunch he'd be willing to forgo the added excitement of people shooting at him while he's doing it."

"Yes, that would be congruent," said Qual. "What might I do to assist you?"

"Maybe you can find out where my robot duplicate is," said Phule. "I ought to reprogram it before anybody figures out there are two of me. And if you can keep the new CO off my back, that'll be even better."

"I do not think he will get on your back," said Qual with his reptilian grin. "But in case he attempts it, I will repel him."

"Good man," said Phule absently, and he began trotting toward the MBC. He hadn't decided exactly what course of action to take, but he knew things would begin falling into place before long. They always did. For now, he just headed for the one place where, unless he was very unlucky, nobody should bother him until he was ready.

Jennie Higgins had not slept well. It wasn't like her. She'd slept in rougher accommodations on a dozen worlds, out on assignment. It wasn't even that uncomfortable; hot as the desert air was in full sunlight, it quickly cooled to something quite pleasant at night. There was even a bit of a breeze stirring. And while the desert creatures of this world made sounds unlike the soft night music the flenders and oloxi sang on her home planet, they were hardly the kind of thing to keep her awake. Her cot and sleeping bag were the best money could buy.

No, she knew very well what was keeping her awake. She was worried about Willard Phule-or, to give him his Legion name, Captain Jester. She hadn't realized she cared quite so much. Tough, spunky Jennie Higgins didn't let things bother her, did she? In the news business, you learned not to get too close to a story. Maybe it was time for her to back off from this one.

Except that backing off was turning out to be a lot easier to say than to do.

She liked Phule. Liked the men and women in Omega Company, too. And she was angry that they'd evidently become pawns in the political games of Legion brass. But she'd never thought Phule would just knuckle under and submit to having a new CO sent in over his head. The Captain Jester she'd known would have found some way to fight back, and his legionnaires would have gleefully joined in the fight.

The man she'd seen sorting papers this morning hadn't shown even a hint of fighting spirit. He hadn't even had enough spirit to look her in the eye.

She knew what she ought to do. She ought to put together a story that showed the Legion brass in their true colors, a story that would have generals quaking in their boots when she came on their holoscreens. But she couldn't muster the energy to do it all, not without Phule's help. And from what she'd seen of him, he had nothing left to bring to the fight.

Maybe coming to Zenobia had been a mistake, after all. She hated to think of herself letting down the Omega Mob-men and women she'd come to think of as her friends-but a reporter had to choose her fights. And this one didn't look like one she could win. Not unless...