Robert Asprin: A Phule and His Money

"Point taken," said Laverna, holding her place in the book with a forefinger. "But remember this: Jester's troops will eventually be rotated out. When somebody else has the post, Jester may lose interest in the place, and move his money someplace he can keep an eye on it more easily. You can afford to bide your time, see who comes in next, and make your move then. You're here for the long term-unless you make a serious mistake."

Maxie nodded. "And you think going after the Fat Chance again is a mistake."

"I know it is," said Laverna. She leaned forward in her chair. "The first time you tangled with Jester, you had all the advantages, and he still managed to come out ahead. And you were lucky, at that-all you lost was your bid to take over the Fat Chance right away. Next time, the consequences are likely to be permanent. He's got a pretty good idea who's behind any trouble that shows up at his door-and he's got the ability to hit back a lot harder than you can hit him."

"That's how I like it," said Maxie. "All the money on the table, and no backing out. It's easy for you to say `take the long view'-you don't have to watch that joker pocket all the profits from the Fat Chance while you're waiting for him to go away."

"I'm here, aren't I?" said Laverna. "I'm here for the long run, too. It's in my best interest to keep your business healthy. That's why I'm advising you to let things take their natural course. The odds always favor the house-and on Lorelei, the house means you. Let the odds do the work for you, and you'll eventually win everything."

"I know that," said Maxie. She went over to a window and looked out at the streets below. The view from the penthouse suite was spectacular, with all the lights of Lorelei's casinos twinkling below her. Actually, since the hotel was on an orbiting space station, the "outdoors" was as much "indoors" as the room itself. But there was something comforting about the illusion of an actual "world" outside, and the casinos wanted their customers to be comfortable-at least, as long as they had money to spend.

Maxine looked out the window for a moment, leaning her hands on the sill. Then she said, without turning around, "But there's another problem. Success breeds success, and if Phule can keep the Fat Chance successful, it'll start cutting into everybody else's profits. Even after his unit gets transferred out, he'll leave somebody sharp in charge of it, somebody we'll have a hard time getting to. And the momentum will keep going his way. We need to stop that momentum now. That's why I've done a few things to stir the pot-things they won't be ready for."

"Yes, I hear that the Yakuza team is already on-station," said Laverna. "There was a dustup at the blackjack tables in the Fat Chance this afternoon-I think that may have been their work."

"Yes, I heard about that little ruckus," said Maxie. "I am taking your advice, by the way. None of my little plans can be traced to me-it's all going to look like somebody else's doing. I can just sit back and collect my regular percentage, and watch the sharks begin to circle around Jester's little empire. I think I'm going to enjoy this, Laverna."

"I hope you do, boss," said Laverna, but her expression suggested that she still saw trouble ahead. Of course, that was part of her job-anticipating trouble and finding ways to head it off. She wished that Maxie would stop finding ways to borrow trouble...but if Maxie had been like that, she wouldn't have needed someone like Laverna. They give you lemons, you make lemonade, thought Laverna, and went back to her book.

Phule stepped out of the hoverbus and into the front entrance of the Fat Chance Casino, leaving Sergeant Brandy to show the recruits to their quarters. He was followed by the chaplain, who ignored Brandy's icy stare and fell in behind the captain as if it were his place. Nothing had yet been said about Rev's nominal rank, so Brandy resisted the impulse to order him into line with the other new arrivals. There'd be time to talk to the captain when she'd finished her current job. After all, in the Omega Mob, a lot of the usual patterns of military life and protocol were-well, the only way to put it was different. Brandy liked it that way.

As he entered the casino, Rev cast a solemn eye upon the busy gambling tables, the scantily clad waitresses, the bustling bartenders, and the fevered patrons. Sprinkled throughout the crowd, conspicuous in their black Legion uniforms, were the guards-the ones he had been called to minister to. "This is my portion, then," he murmured to himself. "A chance to follow in the King's footsteps. Let me make the most of it." Then he said aloud to Phule, "Captain, I'll ask your permission to stop here for a while and meet the people I'll be serving. Plenty of time to find my quarters later."

Phule nodded, saying, "Sure, why not?" and Rev made a gesture that might have been mistaken for a salute before heading off into the crowd. Phule barely noticed the chaplain's departure; he had spotted Moustache striding purposefully toward him. "Yes, Sergeant, what's the situation?" he asked, as the older man fell in step beside him.

"Sushi's disappeared, sir," said Moustache, in his clipped, British accent. "The eyes spotted a pair of card cheats at one of the blackjack tables. Sushi and Do-Wop moved in to handle it; the man turned out to be a martial arts specialist, and they put up a bit of a fight."

"That's unusual," said Phule, his eyebrows rising. "Any injuries?"

"None reported, sir," Moustache said. "A bit of broken furniture, but that was replaced in no time at all."

"Well, that's good," said Phule. He stopped, and turned to face the older man. "How long ago was this?"

"Right after you left, sir," said the sergeant. "Coming up on forty minutes ago. After the first flurry, Sushi and the man left together. Sushi told Do-Wop he had things under control, but didn't give details. And he turned off his communicator as they left. We have the woman in custody-she turned tame as a puppy after the man stopped fighting-but she's not talking. I doubt she knows where they are, anyway. We certainly don't."

"Sushi turned off his communicator, you say?" A look of concern came over Phule's face. "That's not a smart move. I have faith in his judgment, but this..."

"I know what you mean, sir," said Moustache, grimly. "We can't always stick to procedures, but he should have given Mother a probable destination before dropping out of touch. I didn't see anything that justified that."

"What steps are we taking to locate him?"

"Very low-profile at present, sir," said Moustache. "Lieutenant Rembrandt was informed as soon as we learned of the incident. She ordered all personnel to report any sighting of either Sushi or the other man-so far no word. We're assuming that the other man could have taken control of Sushi's communicator, so we don't want to make a general broadcast that he might intercept."

"Is there any reason to believe that's the case?" asked Phule.

"None so far," said Moustache. "But you'd best talk to Rembrandt and Mother-they've been watching the situation develop ever since Sushi left the casino floor, and may know a fair amount they haven't passed on-the enemy may have ears."

"Yes, of course," said Phule. "Carry on, then, Sergeant-it looks as if you've done everything you could." He turned and headed for the comm center. If anyone knew anything more than Moustache, it would be Mother.

Neither he nor Moustache noticed the small figure in black that watched them from behind a large, potted Durdanian fern, then swiftly moved to follow Phule toward the elevator bank.

"These will be your quarters, for the time being," said Brandy, opening the door to a suite on the third floor of the hotel. One of Phule's innovations had been abandonment of the normal Legion barracks system. Almost immediately upon taking over the Omega Mob, he had moved the troops out of their quarters, lock, stock, and barrel, and checked them into the best hotel in town while the quarters were rebuilt to his specifications-which were, if anything, even more comfortable than the hotel. He hadn't seen any reason to change that policy here on Lorelei. Except for a few individuals engaged in undercover work outside the hotel, everyone in the company was in the best quarters the Fat Chance had to offer.