The Complete Phule’s Company Boxed Set
Page 26
The party was ensconced in one of the spaceport’s courtesy meeting rooms, the general having repeatedly rejected suggestions that they hold their proceedings at the facilities currently enjoyed by the Legion’s company.
“Captain Jester does seem to have achieved a certain popularity locally,” the colonel tried again. “Justified or not, he and his crew of cutthroats are currently the toast of the settlement.”
“All the more reason to get this over with and get him out of here as soon as possible,” Blitzkrieg muttered, deliberately missing the point Battleax was trying to make. “What’s the delay, anyway? Where is this Captain Jester?”
“He’s waiting in the next room,” Major Joshua supplied. “Has been since before we disembarked.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
“We’re trying to locate the court recorder, sir. She seems to have wandered off.”
“Shall we get started, anyway?” Battleax suggested casually. “At least with the inquiry?”
“Oh no,” the general said. “I want everything legal and by the book when I nail this guy’s hide to the wall … no ‘procedural mistrial’ loopholes for him to wiggle out of. Major, go out and see if you can find … What the hell is that?”
There was a loud rumble of powerful engines outside. The sound had begun softly as they spoke but had slowly risen in volume until now it could no longer be ignored.
Joshua had moved to the window overlooking the shuttle pads and was staring at something outside the line of vision of the other officers.
“General,” he said without turning away from his post, “I think you should look at this.”
The sound was from a full dozen hover cycles, whose Legionnaire riders kept revving the engines noisily despite their slow pace. What was even more attention-getting, however, was the procession they were escorting.
The entire company of Legionnaires was marching into the area between the shuttle pads and the spaceport. There were no flashy maneuvers such as the Red Eagles had performed during the intra-service competition, yet something in the grim determination of their approach made them nonetheless impressive, if not intimidating, as they drew up in full formation. Of course, this image was enhanced by the fact that they were garbed in full combat uniform and gear, including what appeared to be loaded weapons.
At a barked command echoed by the sergeants, the formation halted and stood at attention. At the same time, the hover cycle riders shut down the engines of their vehicles, and for several moments the resulting silence seemed even louder than had the earlier noise.
“What are they doing out there?” the general said as the three officers stared at the display outside their window.
“If I had to guess, sir,” Battleax murmured, not taking her eyes from the formation, “I’d say it was a demonstration of support for their commander.”
“A demonstration? It looks like they’re getting ready to assault the spaceport.”
“I didn’t say it looked like a peaceful demonstration.” The colonel smiled humorlessly.
“They’ve got clips of ammo in those weapons,” Blitzkrieg noted. “Who authorized that? Whom did you put in temporary command when you relieved Jester?”
“Lieutenant Rembrandt had the most seniority,” Battleax said. “That’s her at the head of the formation. I believe that’s the other lieutenant, Armstrong, standing beside her. Ummm … is it necessary for me to point out to you gentlemen that they’re between us and the shuttle?”
“Do you want me to call the local police?” Joshua asked nervously.
“Those are supposed to be our troops out there, Major,” the general retorted tersely. “We’d look pretty damn silly asking the police to protect us from them, now, wouldn’t we?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”
“I want you to go out there and take command of that formation, Major Joshua. Break it up and tell them to return to their barracks and await further orders.”
“Me, sir?”
Fortunately rescue appeared that moment in the form of the missing court recorder, who slipped into the room and took her position by her equipment, blissfully unaware of what was going on outside the spaceport. She was one of those drab, horse-faced women who gave lie to the holo-movie stereotype of the sexy secretary.
“Sorry I’m late, General,” she said.
“Where the hell have you been?” Blitzkrieg demanded, finding a focal point for his anger and nervousness.
“Begging the general’s pardon,” Battleax interceded, “but isn’t it more important that we begin the proceedings … without further delay?”
“Oh! Yes … quite right. Thank you, Colonel. Someone tell Jester we’re ready for him.”
The trio of officers barely had time to settle into their seats before the captain entered. With careful precision, he strode to the center of the room and saluted crisply.
“Captain Jester … reporting as ordered, sir!”
General Blitzkrieg returned the salute with a sketchy wave of his hand as he looked over at the court recorder.
“Let the record show that a court of inquiry is convened to review the actions of Captain Jester. General Blitzkrieg presiding, Colonel Battleax and Major Joshua in attendance.”
He turned his attention to the figure in front of him.
“Well, Captain,” he said conversationally, “I assume you know why we’re here.”
“No, sir, I don’t. I was told my actions were to be reviewed, but I am unaware of any activity on my part which might warrant such scrutiny.”
Even Battleax was startled by this statement. She had been prepared to favorably review whatever defense Jester might have to offer, but it had never occurred to her that he would attempt to defend himself by arguing his innocence.
This was potentially disastrous. The captain might have been able to obtain special consideration by claiming that extenuating circumstances forced him to overstep his authority, but not acknowledging he was in error at all indicated a permanent, not a temporary, lapse in judgment.
The general sensed an easy victory, and his smile took on shark proportions as he pressed on.
“Captain Jester, do you feel that you, or anyone else in the Space Legion, has the authority to negotiate a peace treaty with a culture or society of aliens previously unknown to us?”
“No, sir. That power rests solely with the Alliance Council.”
“Well, then …”
“But I fail to see where the question has anything to do with me or anyone in my command … sir.”
“You don’t?” Blitzkrieg frowned.
“General … if I may?” Battleax broke in quickly. “Captain Jester, how would you describe your recent interaction with members of the Zenobian Empire?”
“Well, sir, I was informed that there had been an altercation between a member of my company and what seemed to be a previously unknown alien race. After first taking measures to ensure the immediate safety of the miners we were contracted to protect, I established contact with the commander of that alien force to determine whether or not they constituted a threat to the settlement or the Alliance as a whole. In that conversation, it was discovered that the alien presence was due to equipment failure on their part rather than any premeditated plan or attack, and that the altercation had been caused by nervousness and ignorance on both sides. Apologies were extended and accepted.”
“And …” the general prompted after several moments’ silence had passed.
“That was the total extent of my official exchange with the Zenobians, sir, which I believe is well within the guidelines set down for a Legion officer.”
“What about the agreement to trade swampland for weapons, Captain?”
Phule’s expression was guileless.
“I did serve as a combination middleman and agent in such an agreement, sir. But that was at a later time while I was off duty. What is more, that agreement was a business deal between two individuals … specifically, Flight Leftenant
Qual of the Zenobian Exploratory Forces and my father. To the best of my knowledge, and I was involved in all exchanges surrounding that agreement, at no time was it stated or implied that the deal committed or involved either the Alliance as a whole or the Zenobian Empire. As I said, it was simply a trade arrangement between two individuals, and my own part in the matter was permissible under Article—”
“We know the article in question, Captain,” Battleax interrupted, fighting a smile. “It’s referenced frequently in your file.”
General Blitzkrieg was shaking his head in amazement and confusion.
“Is it legal? Doing business with an alien race outside the Alliance, I mean.”
“To the best of my knowledge,” the captain answered smoothly, “there is no law specifically forbidding such an arrangement. If we were at war with the Zenobians, it might be a different matter, but I don’t believe there are any provisos for dealings with intelligent aliens that are not either in the Alliance or actively at war with us.”
He paused to smile at the reviewing officers.
“I imagine the tax boys might try to find some basis to challenge the deal, but I suggest we leave that to the battery of lawyers Phule-Proof Munitions employs for just such disputes. Repeating my initial assertion, I see no reason why such a question of legality, if it arises at all, should involve the Space Legion … or, specifically, me or my command.”
* * *
After the brief media conference where it was announced that Captain Jester of the Space Legion had not only been cleared of any charges of misconduct but decorated for his handling of the Zenobian episode, that notable retired to the nearest bar, which happened to be in the spaceport, for a quiet drink.
“I’ll tell you, Beeker, that’s a load off my mind. For a while I thought they were going to shoot me just out of general principles.”
“It’s good to see you vindicated, sir … if I may say so,” the butler agreed, raising his own glass in a small toast.
“The company showing up like that didn’t hurt at all,” the commander mused. “How did they react when the company portfolio profits were announced?”
“I don’t believe the announcement has been made yet, sir. The lieutenants seemed a bit preoccupied with the preparations for today’s demonstration when I passed the information to them.”
“Good,” Phule said. “I’ll tell them myself. I wonder how they’ll take to being suddenly wealthy?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask for some time, sir. Is what you’re doing with the portfolio aboveboard … legally and ethically?”
“What do you mean, Beek?”
“Well, it seems to me that buying stocks in corporations where you are a majority stockholder, particularly just before mergers or new product developments are announced, might be viewed by some as ‘insider information.’”
“Nonsense.” Phule smiled easily. “Coincidences will happen … and besides, if I don’t have enough faith in my own ventures to invest in them, how can I expect anyone else to?”
“If you say so, sir.”
“How about dinner tonight, Beeker? Truth to tell, I’m a little tired of looking at Legionnaire uniforms today.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I already have a dinner date.”
“Oh?” The commander raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“The court recorder,” his butler said in explanation.
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed she was your type.”
Beeker sighed. “Normally she wouldn’t be. The conversation did, however, keep her occupied until after the company arrived for its demonstration.”
“I guess it did at that,” Phule said. “Tell you what, Beek. Go ahead and put the dinner on my account.”
“Very good, sir.”
* * *
Aboard the shuttlecraft, Colonel Battleax was embroiled in a conversation of an entirely different nature.
“I tell you, General, he’s completely turned the Omega Company around. You saw how they rallied when they thought he was in trouble. What’s more, the media loves him. As far as they’re concerned, the original reports were correct: He’s heading up the Space Legion’s crack outfit. Now, you and I may know different, but I think we should capitalize on that publicity. They’re wasted on this swamp guard contract.”
“Oh, I fully intend to reassign them, Colonel,” the general said. “There are a few situations on my desk I’d like to try them out on. We’ll find out once and for all exactly how good these ‘elite troubleshooters’ really are … or aren’t.”
His smile was devoid of any warmth.
About the Author
Robert Lynn Asprin was an American science fiction and fantasy author, best known for his MythAdventures and Phule’s Company series. As an active fan of the genres, he was a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism, a co-founder of the Great Dark Horde, and founder of the Dorsai Irregulars. He was nominated for the Hugo Award for Best Dramatic Presentation for the Capture in 1976.
Asprin died in 2008 at the age of 61 having published over fifty novels and several short stories.
If You Liked …
If you liked Phule’s Company, you might also enjoy:
Phule’s Paradise
Robert Asprin
Strong Arm Tactics
Jody Lynn Nye
Fifth Foreign Legion #1: March or Die
Andrew Keith
Other WordFire Press Titles by Robert Asprin
Phule’s Paradise
A Phule and his Money
Phule Me Twice
No Phule Like an Old Phule
Phule’s Errand
Our list of other WordFire Press authors and titles is always growing. To find out more and to see our selection of titles, visit us at:
wordfirepress.com
Book Description
Be all that you can be … in Phule’s Company: Clumsy, inane, sloppy, reckless, idiotic.
They’re the laughingstock of the military. Their latest mission: to guard an intergalactic casino called the Fat Chance from an unlikely criminal takeover
The odds are against the oddballs.
Digital Edition – 2016
WordFire Press
wordfirepress.com
ISBN: 978-1-61475-455-8
Copyright © 1992 by Robert Asprin
Originally published by Ace Books February 1992
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
Title Page
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
Prologue
The view from General Blitzkrieg’s window was uninspired to say the most, surveying a cramped parking lot and a blank wall badly in need of repainting or tearing down. In some ways, however, it typified the status of the Space Legion, or lack thereof. Perpetually strapped for funding, even the space for its headquarters was rented, and the area was very low rent indeed. That Blitzkrieg’s office had a window at all was a sign of his lofty standing in that organization.
“Excuse me, sir?”
The general turned from staring out the window to find an aide poised in the door of his office.
“Yes?”
“You asked to be notified as soon as Colonel Battleax left on her vacation,” the aide said without formality. Salutes, like views, were optional in the Legion, and therefore very rare indeed.
“You’re sure she’s gone? You saw her take off yourself?”
“Well, sir, I saw her shuttle lift off and then return without her. The ship she had reservations on has left orbit, so I assume that she’s on it.”
“Good, good,” the general said, almost to himself, a rare smile flickering across his face. “And she’ll be on vacation for several months, at least.”
Due to the time necessary for space travel, even aided by faster-than-light travel, vacations tended to be long, so the aide found nothing unusual about the length of Battleax’s sabbatical, especially considering she had been accumulating time for several years. The aide was, however, puzzled by the general’s attitude and interest in it. It was surprising that Blitzkrieg, as one of the three directors of the Space Legion, would take such a concern in the long-overdue vacation of a lowly colonel.
“She’ll certainly be missed,” the aide commented, fishing for more information.