The Complete Phule’s Company Boxed Set
Page 1
This complete eBook boxed set contains all six novels in Robert Asprin’s rollicking military-SF spoof, the Phule’s Company series, Phule’s Company, Phule’s Paradise, and (co-written with Peter J. Heck), A Phule and His Money, Phule Me Twice, No Phule Like an Old Phule, and Phule’s Errand.
The few. The proud. The stupid. The inept. After being court-martialed by the Space Legion for ordering the strafing of a treaty-signing ceremony, multimillionaire Willard Phule receives his punishment: He must command the misfit Omega Company on Haskin’s Planet, a mining settlement on the edge of settled space. At his duty station, he leverages his personal money and a knack for managing people to get the company to come together as a unit. And Phule’s company operates with their own unique tactics….
This series is science fiction at its funniest.
Phule’s Company
Copyright © 1990 by Robert Asprin
Originally published by Ace Books July 1990
Reissued by WordFire Press 2016
Phule’s Paradise
Copyright © 1992 by Robert Asprin
Originally published by Ace February July 1992
Reissued by WordFire Press 2017
A Phule and His Money
Copyright © 1999 by Robert Asprin
Originally published by Ace Books 1999
Reissued by WordFire Press 2017
Phule Me Twice
Copyright © 2001 Robert Asprin
Originally published by Ace, 2000
Reissued by WordFire Press 2017
No Phule Like an Old Phule
Copyright © 2004 Robert Asprin
Originally published by Ace, 2004
Reissued by WordFire Press 2017
Phule’s Errand
Copyright © 2006 Robert Asprin
Originally published by Ace, 2006
Reissued by WordFire Press 2017
eBook Boxed set published by WordFire Press, 2018
Table of Contents
Boxed Set Information
Phule's Company
Phule's Company Book Description
Phule's Company Title Page
Phule's Company Contents
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Author
If You Liked …
Other WordFire Press Titles by Robert Asprin
Phule's Paradise
Phule's Paradise Book Description
Phule's Paradise Title Page
Phule's Paradise Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
About the Author
If You Liked …
Other WordFire Press Titles by Robert Asprin
A Phule and His Money
Praise for Asprin
A Phule and His Money Book Description
A Phule and His Money Title Page
A Phule and His Money Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Authors
If You Liked …
Other WordFire Press Titles by Robert Asprin
Phule Me Twice
Phule Me Twice Book Description
Phule Me Twice Title Page
Phule Me Twice Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Author
If You Liked …
Other WordFire Press Titles
No Phule Like an Old Phule
No Phule Like an Old Phule Book Description
No Phule Like an Old Phule Title Page
No Phule Like an Old Phule Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
About the Author
If You Liked …
Other WordFire Press Titles by Ropert Asprin
Phule's Errand
Phule's Errand Book Description
Phule's Errand Title Page
Phule's Errand Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Author
If You Liked …
Other WordFire Press Titles by Robert Asprin
Book Description
They’re a handful of military rejects, led by the biggest fool of them all—Captain Willard Phule.
Threatened by an alien enemy, Earth’s military has decided to send Phule and his misfit soldiers to a distant planet—where they can’t get into any trouble.
But now the aliens have chosen a new target of war.
Guess who … Phule’s Company.
Digital Edition – 2016
WordFire Press
wordfirepress.com
ISBN: 978-1-61475-453-4
Copyright © 1990 by Robert Asprin
Originally published by Ace Books July 1990
All rights
reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the copyright holder, except where permitted by law. This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover painting by Jeff Herndon
Cover design by Janet McDonald
Kevin J. Anderson, Art Director
Book Design by RuneWright, LLC
www.RuneWright.com
Kevin J. Anderson & Rebecca Moesta, Publishers
Published by
WordFire Press, an imprint of
WordFire, Inc.
PO Box 1840
Monument, CO 80132
Contents
Book Description
Introduction
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Author
If You Liked …
Other WordFire Press Titles by Robert Asprin
Introduction
Journal File #001
It has been said that every great man deserves a biographer. I have therefore taken it upon myself to keep a private record of my employer’s activities during his career in the Space Legion. If there are those who would, perhaps, contest his qualifications as a great man, I would answer that he is the closest thing to a great man that it has been my privilege to associate with on close enough terms to keep such a journal. I would further point out that, in certain circles, Genghis Kahn and Geronimo are considered to be great men.
To introduce myself, I am a gentleman’s gentleman, or what would be referred to in military circles as a batman. (For the less literate-minded, I would ask that you refrain from associating that label with any comic book character you might be familiar with. I have always felt that capes were an unnecessary fashion statement and have endeavored to discourage my employers from resorting to such tacky, attention-seeking ploys.) I am called Beeker, and neither require nor seek additional titles of address.
Although I was with my employer since the time of his enlistment and before, I feel that the truly noteworthy portion of his career began at his court-martial. To be specific, at his first court-martial.
* * *
The waiting room had the kind of decor one would expect of the green room of a down-at-the-heels acting troupe. Two ancient sofas of indeterminate color were sagging against opposite walls, surrounded by an assortment of folding and wooden chairs that would have been cheap if new, and the magazines strewn on the only table would have made an archaeologist sit up and take notice.
Two men shared the space, more at home with each other than with their surroundings. One was a chunky individual of medium height, decked out in impeccable but conservative civilian clothes, or civvies, as they were known in these quarters. His ruddy face had the bland expression of one used to waiting as he dominated one sofa, idly staring at the pocket microcomputer in his lap and steadfastly ignoring his companion.
The other occupant was anything but calm in appearance or manner. Whiplash lean, he seemed to radiate barely suppressed energy as he paced the room’s confines. If tigers stood vigil in maternity waiting rooms while awaiting delivery of their young, there would be little difference between their display of anxiety and that shown by the young man’s nervous prowling. Perhaps panthers would be a better comparison, as his uniform was the midnight black of the Space Legion—a color chosen not for its aesthetic or camouflage value as much as the fact the dye could hide the origins of any military surplus uniform bought in lots by the budget-strapped Legion. Not that he was wearing a standard-issue uniform, mind you. His collar pips marked him as a lieutenant, and like most officers he had his uniforms tailor-made, taking full advantage of the Legion’s lack of uniformity among their uniforms. The quality of the fabric and workmanship in his garment was several notches above normal, though he had deliberately chosen one of a more somber cut for this occasion.
“For cryin’ out loud, how long does it take them?”
The question burst almost unbidden from the lieutenant’s lips as he began his fiftieth circuit of the room.
The man on the sofa didn’t even glance up.
“It’s really not my place to say, sir.”
It was the first response to any of his muttering, and the lieutenant seized on the words as a focus for his irritation.
“Don’t give me that ‘subservient butler’ guff, Beeker! Since when have you ever not had an opinion on something or been hesitant to share it with me … asked or not?”
Beeker’s gaze shifted from his reading to the lieutenant.
“Well, actually you’ve been a bit more close-minded than usual since you joined the Space Legion, sir … or rather since you made up your mind to join. In this specific case, however, I was under the impression that what you voiced was a rhetorical question.”
“It was … but answer it, anyway. Come on, Beeker. Talk to me.”
With careful deliberation, the butler set his reader aside.
“Certainly, sir. Could you repeat the question?”
“What do you think’s taking them so long?” the lieutenant said, resuming his prowling, but more slowly now that he was verbalizing his thoughts. “I mean, I did plead guilty.”
“Forgive me for belaboring the obvious,” Beeker said, “but if the question of guilt has been settled, then what remains is the sentencing. It would seem the court is having some difficulty in deciding precisely what punishment is correct for your offense.”
“Well, what’s so hard about that? I made a mistake. Fine. I’m sure other Legionnaires have made mistakes before.”
“True,” the butler said. “However, I’m not sure how many others have duplicated the exact nature and magnitude of your indiscretion. I’m certain that if anyone else had strafed the ceremonial signing of a peace treaty, I would have noted it in the media releases … sir.”
The lieutenant grimaced at the memory.
“I didn’t know what was going on at the time. Our communications gear was on the fritz, so we never got the cease-fire order. Besides, we’d been ordered to maintain com silence.”
Beeker nodded patiently. He had heard all this before, but understood the lieutenant’s need to go over it again.
“As I understand it, you were ordered to stand silent picket duty … to note and report any ship movement off-planet. Period. There was no authorization for an individual ship to make a strafing run.”
“I wasn’t ordered not to! Battle usually goes to the side that seizes initiative when opportunity presents itself.”
Beeker raised his eyebrows expressively.
“Battle? I thought there was no resistance.”
“That’s why I made my move. Our instruments showed that they had dropped their defense net, so I thought if I moved quick we could scare them with a little demonstration of firepower and bring this whole revolt to an early close.”
“It was already over,” Beeker pointed out dryly. “That’s why they dropped their defense net.”
“But I didn’t know that! I just saw the net go down and—”
“And talked the hot-shot pilot on duty into going in on a strafing run. All in the time it took the ship’s captain to go to the john.”
“It was a simple case of bad communications,” the lieutenant grumbled, avoiding his comrade’s eyes. “How mad can they be? We deliberately aimed at property and not people, so no one got hurt.”
Beeker stared innocently at the ceiling.
“I’m told the property damage was in excess of ten million credits …”
“Hey. I told them I’d …”
“… and that you shot their flag to shreds while it was flying over the ceremony …”
“Well, it was …”
“… and of course, shooting up the ambassador’s private space yacht was unwise at best. That’s our ambassador …”
“They didn’t have their ID beacon on!”
“Possibly because there was a cease-fire on.”
“But … Oh, damn it all, anyway!”
The lieutenant ceased his struggles and his pacing and sank wearily into the couch opposite Beeker.
“What do you think they’ll do to me, Beek?”
“At the risk of sounding disloyal sir,” the butler said, picking up his reader again, “I frankly don’t envy them that decision.”
* * *
As the court-martial involved a junior officer, Legion rules only required three officers to try the case. An air of discomfort seemed to hang over the deliberations, however, mostly due to the senior officer present.
It was said that everyone in the Legion had three names: the one he was born with, the one he chose when he joined the Legion, and the one he deserved. Though the records showed the second, most were known by the third, the nickname they acquired through their personality and actions while enlisted, though few officers formally acknowledged what the lower ranks called them.
Colonel Battleax was one of those rare cases where her chosen name and nickname were in accord. She was a drab, horse-faced woman with piercing eyes that left respect, caution, and no small amount of fear in their wake, and the prim no-nonsense cut of her uniform added an implied note of disapproval for those Legionnaires who favored a more flamboyant style in their wardrobes. There was a stern air about her that could only be called intimidating and did little to set people at their ease when in contact with her, much less the focus of her attention. The overall effect was that one was being taken to task by one’s aging mother, except that in this case the party sitting in judgment could not only heap guilt on one’s head but also scuttle a career with a raised eyebrow and a terse notation on one’s personnel file.