Read Online A Phule and His Money by Robert Asprin, Peter J. Heck - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert Asprin, Peter J. Heck
Tags: Fiction, General, Suspense, Science-Fiction, Action & Adventure, SF, Space Opera, Life on other planets, Science fiction; American, Robots, Phule's Company (Fictitious characters)
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was his ability to project absolute confidence when it was time for an important decision. He did not always possess this confidence in private. Waiting with me for a court-martial to decide on his punishment for ordering a strafing run on a peace conference, he had been as nervous as a new recruit who feared that an inspector would deny him leave because his bed-making skills were deficient.
But whatever indecision he felt in private-or in my company, which amounted to the same thing-he had learned not to show it to subordinates. And now, when there seemed to be half a dozen crises coming to a head at once, I thought the time was more than ripe for him to take the bit in his teeth.
Thus, I was not surprised when he took me aside and began to talk through appropriate responses to his current problems. What did surprise me was his perception of the relative priority to be assigned to each of them. Needless to say, it differed considerably from mine...
Phule looked around the room at the four others there-his brain trust, a politician might have called it. There were his three direct subordinates in the chain of command: Lieutenants Rembrandt and Armstrong, and Top Sergeant Brandy, as well as his butler and personal confidant, Beeker. Beeker was perhaps the captain's most valuable asset-not only on account of his complete detachment from military matters, but because of his ability to go anywhere and speak to anyone in absolute confidence. The troops knew he wouldn't snitch, and so they told him everything.
Phule got straight to the point. "As you all know, there's trouble brewing in several areas at once. Let me make this clear at the outset: There's nothing happening that we can't handle-in fact, taken singly, none of these problems is any great threat to the company."
"I'm glad to hear that, sir," said Lieutenant Armstrong. "It's been a very confusing day."
"Confusing ain't the word for it," said Brandy, who'd been in the thick of the action all afternoon. "Between Sushi going AWOL, the Zenobian playing spy, and the FUBAR at the hotel desk, I've had my hands full. And now I have to break in these recruits-though the Gambolts shouldn't be much trouble."
"Those aren't the worst problems," said Armstrong. He somehow managed to maintain an exemplary posture even sitting in an easy chair. "Chocolate Harry's digging in for a siege. Unless he's gone completely off the beam, I think we're going to see some fighting."
"Oh, C.H. has a phobia about those bikers," said Rembrandt, scoffing. "A few legionnaires should be enough to brush them aside."
"Take a walk down to supply depot and you'll change that tune," retorted Armstrong. "From the way Harry's fortified the place, he's not expecting us to brush them aside, and I think he knows what he's up against."
"Well, he did ride with the Outlaws," agreed Brandy. "If somebody's put a scare into him, I won't take 'em too lightly. But this isn't a street fight, here. Those bikers are on course to do battle with the best damn Legion company I've ever seen. Unless they've brought a few hundred armed Renegades onto the station with them, I can't see how they pose any real threat."
"The threat isn't to us, but to our operation," Phule pointed out. "Good as they may be at street fighting, it'd be suicide for them to meet us in a pitched battle. But we can't carry on combat operations in the middle of an entertainment complex without serious consequences. An occasional fistfight or two is inevitable in any place that serves liquor. But I don't want to try to tell a court-martial how the casino's customers-civilians-were caught in a cross fire between my troops and an attacking biker gang."
"No argument with that," said Brandy. "So if we can't outgun 'em, what do we do? I hear they've been nursing this grudge for years-and they wanted Harry's hide bad enough to spring for space-liner tickets to one of the most expensive resorts in the galaxy when they found out he was here. If they're
But whatever indecision he felt in private-or in my company, which amounted to the same thing-he had learned not to show it to subordinates. And now, when there seemed to be half a dozen crises coming to a head at once, I thought the time was more than ripe for him to take the bit in his teeth.
Thus, I was not surprised when he took me aside and began to talk through appropriate responses to his current problems. What did surprise me was his perception of the relative priority to be assigned to each of them. Needless to say, it differed considerably from mine...
Phule looked around the room at the four others there-his brain trust, a politician might have called it. There were his three direct subordinates in the chain of command: Lieutenants Rembrandt and Armstrong, and Top Sergeant Brandy, as well as his butler and personal confidant, Beeker. Beeker was perhaps the captain's most valuable asset-not only on account of his complete detachment from military matters, but because of his ability to go anywhere and speak to anyone in absolute confidence. The troops knew he wouldn't snitch, and so they told him everything.
Phule got straight to the point. "As you all know, there's trouble brewing in several areas at once. Let me make this clear at the outset: There's nothing happening that we can't handle-in fact, taken singly, none of these problems is any great threat to the company."
"I'm glad to hear that, sir," said Lieutenant Armstrong. "It's been a very confusing day."
"Confusing ain't the word for it," said Brandy, who'd been in the thick of the action all afternoon. "Between Sushi going AWOL, the Zenobian playing spy, and the FUBAR at the hotel desk, I've had my hands full. And now I have to break in these recruits-though the Gambolts shouldn't be much trouble."
"Those aren't the worst problems," said Armstrong. He somehow managed to maintain an exemplary posture even sitting in an easy chair. "Chocolate Harry's digging in for a siege. Unless he's gone completely off the beam, I think we're going to see some fighting."
"Oh, C.H. has a phobia about those bikers," said Rembrandt, scoffing. "A few legionnaires should be enough to brush them aside."
"Take a walk down to supply depot and you'll change that tune," retorted Armstrong. "From the way Harry's fortified the place, he's not expecting us to brush them aside, and I think he knows what he's up against."
"Well, he did ride with the Outlaws," agreed Brandy. "If somebody's put a scare into him, I won't take 'em too lightly. But this isn't a street fight, here. Those bikers are on course to do battle with the best damn Legion company I've ever seen. Unless they've brought a few hundred armed Renegades onto the station with them, I can't see how they pose any real threat."
"The threat isn't to us, but to our operation," Phule pointed out. "Good as they may be at street fighting, it'd be suicide for them to meet us in a pitched battle. But we can't carry on combat operations in the middle of an entertainment complex without serious consequences. An occasional fistfight or two is inevitable in any place that serves liquor. But I don't want to try to tell a court-martial how the casino's customers-civilians-were caught in a cross fire between my troops and an attacking biker gang."
"No argument with that," said Brandy. "So if we can't outgun 'em, what do we do? I hear they've been nursing this grudge for years-and they wanted Harry's hide bad enough to spring for space-liner tickets to one of the most expensive resorts in the galaxy when they found out he was here. If they're
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