Phules Paradise

by Robert Asprin

  It is to the elder Phule's credit that he did not indulge in any "I told you so's" at his son's expense, but instead simply addressed the problem at hand.

  "My what?" he said, scowling.

  "The Bug Squad," the Legionnaire persisted. "At least, that's what you used to call them. You know, Albert's crew-the computer auditors."

  "Oh. Them." Victor Phule nodded. "Sorry, son. I can't help you there."

  "Come on, Dad," the commander said. "You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't really need them. Neither of us has time to play games on the price. I'll go two points on our next deal, but beyond that ..."

  "Whoa! Hold it, Willie," the elder Phule said, holding up a restraining hand. "I didn't say I wouldn't help you. I said I couldn't! Albert and his team don't work for me anymore. They split off and formed their own company. Now I have to contract them myself for any work I need."

  "I see," the Legionnaire said thoughtfully. "Tell me, was the parting amicable?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Are you and Albert still on good terms, or is he going to dig in his heels if anyone mentions the name Phule to him?" the commander clarified. "It sounds like I'm going to have to approach him on my own, and I'm trying to figure out if I'll have to go through an intermediary or not."

  "Oh, there were no hard feelings involved-at least, not from his side," Victor Phule said. "He's not an easy man to deal with, though. He doesn't even give me a discount for his services, even after I footed the bill while he recruited and trained the team he's running."

  "Well, you didn't hire him for his personality," the Legionnaire responded with a chuckle. "And weren't you the one who always told me that loyalty had to be earned, not hired?"

  "Don't start using quotes on me unless you want to soak up a few in return," the elder Phule warned dryly. "Now, are there any other nonproblems I can help you with? Like I said, I'm in the middle of a meeting."

  "No, that covers it. If you can just tell me how to get through to Albert, I'll get out of your hair."

  "Stay on the line and my secretary will give you that info," the elder Phule instructed. "I've got to run, myself. You know how your grandmother is if you keep her waiting too long."

  "Grams?" The Legionnaire blinked. "Is that who you're meeting with?"

  Phule grimaced. "That's right. And she's in one of her 'holy crusade' moods, and you know what that means."

  The commander gave an exaggerated shudder in response.

  "Well, good luck, Dad," he said. "No offense, but it sounds like you're going to need it. Say hello for me, if you think it will help."

  "And listen to her run on about you and your Boy Scout troop again?" the elder Phule said. "Thanks, but no thanks. Got to go now ... My best to Beeker."

  "So that's it in a nutshell, Albert," Phule concluded. "Can you help me?"

  The holo-image of the computer specialist nodded slowly. It had the pale, unripened complexion of someone who habitually uses a cathode-ray tube for a sunlamp.

  "I'll have to pull a couple people off other things, but yes, I think we can handle it."

  "Good," the commander said. "How soon can we look for you?"

  "I'll have to check the flight schedules, but I imagine we can be there in a couple of weeks. It's not that far from where we are now."

  "Not fast enough," Phule said, shaking his head. "We've got to have things fixed before the grand opening, and that's in a week. Charter a ship if you have to, but-"

  "Impossible," Albert interrupted, shaking his head. "We might be able to get there in a week, but to diagnose any program problems, much less fix them, simply can't be done in that time frame."

  "Double your fee," the commander said flatly.

  "But then again," the analyst said, without blinking an eye, "if you can download the programs to us so we can be going over them in flight, all we'll have to do on-site is load the revisions. It'll be tight, but I guess we can manage."

  "Right." Phule nodded. "A pleasure doing business with you Albert."

  He broke the connection with a sigh.

  "Well, at least that's taken care of."

  "If you say so, sir."

  The commander cocked an eyebrow at his butler.

  "I know that tone of voice, Beek," he said. "What's the problem?"

  "If I might ask a question, sir?"

  "You mean why don't I just loan Rafael the money to pay off Maxine?" The commander shook his head. "Aside from the ethical question involved with buying our way out of a problem this big, there's the matter of sheer logistics. The kind of money we'd need I don't have in ready cash. It would mean having to liquidate some of my long-term assets, which I don't want to do, and even if I did, it would take more time than we have. Max wants the casino, and she's not about to let Rafael off the hook for anything less than cash on the barrelhead."

  "I understand, sir," Beeker said. "However, if I may, that wasn't my question."

  "Oh?"

  "If I heard correctly, you were instructing Albert and his ... Bug Squad ... to focus their attention primarily on detecting and correcting any computer programming inconsistencies applying to the video slots in the casino. Is that correct?"

  "That's our biggest vulnerability. Yes."

  "Well, I can't help but wonder, sir, if it's wise to completely ignore the other areas which might be affected by computer tampering. It's been my experience that the people who program computers are very much like the machines themselves when it comes to dealing with users. They do specifically what they're instructed to-usually-but seldom anything else. That is, I doubt they will address any of the other problem areas under their current instructions."

  "C'mon, Beek," Phule protested. "You heard him. They're going to be hard-pressed to fix the slots in the time frame we've got. Any other assignments will only slow things up."

  "Then you may have to consider alternative solutions to the other problem areas ... sir," the butler said blandly.

  "But they're only ..." The commander caught himself and stopped, rubbing one hand across his eyes. "Okay, Beeker. Out with it. Which areas other than the slots are you worried about?"

  "Well, sir, if I understand the situation, the computer also controls the lights and sound system for the showroom stage."

  "That's right. So?"

  "I believe, sir, that the showroom and its featured entertainers are one of the primary draws the casino uses to attract its clientele. In short, if there's no show, there may not be many people attending the opening to play the slots, making the question of the slots program relatively irrelevant."

  "I see," Phule said. "Then we-"

  "What's more," the butler said as if he hadn't been interrupted, "I believe that Mr. Gunther has booked Dee Dee Watkins for the opening, and-"

  "Who?"

  Beeker rolled his eyes in not so mock exasperation.

  "Really, sir," he said. "You really should read more than the financial pages once in a while. Dee Dee Watkins has been a rising holo star for several years now, and she's just put together a nightclub act tour, which is supposed to premiere at the grand opening."

  "Oh."

  "Not quite yet, sir," the butler corrected. "You see, while I have not had the privilege of reviewing Ms. Watkins's contract personally, my recent experience with Lieutenant Rembrandt while hiring our own actors leads me to believe that a performer of her standing will have a clause in her bookings requiring that she be paid in full even if she does not perform, providing the reason for her performance is a failure on the part of the booking party to supply stage equipment of at least minimal professional standards-which I would assume includes lights and a functioning sound system. I would further assume that her fees for performing, while, perhaps, not of the same magnitude as the potential losses from multiple jackpots at the video slots, are, nonetheless, substantial-and I know how you dislike paying people not to perform their contracted services."

  He paused, then nodded at his employer.

  "Now, sir."

&
nbsp; "Oh," Phule responded dutifully.

  Silence hung in the air as Beeker waited respectfully for his employer to digest this information.

  At last, Phule let out a sigh.

  "Okay," he said. "I can see where that will have to be addressed. Any other jewels of insight?"

  The question was meant facetiously, but that was always a danger in the company Phule kept.

  "As a matter of fact, sir," Beeker said, "it occurs to me that you might also want to arrange for some sort of audit or backup system for the front desk of the hotel."

  "The front desk?"

  "I believe the computer is utilized rather heavily for both the reservations and the billings for the hotel, and aside from the annoyance of double bookings, there is a long-standing law that in such an event, the hotel is responsible for finding the extra guests equivalent lodging and absorbing the cost."

  "And there are a lot of tour groups who are supposed to have reservations for the opening," Phule finished grimly.

  The commander produced his Port-A-Brain minicomputer from his pocket and pulled up a chair next to the room's holophone.

  "Get on the horn and order us some coffee," he said. "We've got a lot of work to do. And Beek?"

  "Yes, sir?"

  "I don't want to hear any grumbling about my not getting enough sleep. Not for a while, at least."

  That Lawrence Bombest was surprised to receive a holo call from Willard Phule was an understatement. While he had formed a grudging respect for the job Phule had done in upgrading the attitudes of his down-at-the-heels Space Legion company while they were temporarily housed at the Plaza, Bombest would not in his wildest dreams fantasize that the two of them were at all close.

  In his position of manager of the Plaza Hotel, one of the oldest, most respected on Haskin's Planet, it had been his duty to act as guardian of those stately facilities, and while the Legionnaires had turned out to be much better behaved than he had originally feared, more often than not it had placed himself and their commander in adversarial roles. As surprised as he was at the mere existence of the call, however, he was dumbfounded at its content.

  "I know we're both busy, Bombest," the ghostly holo-image said, "so I'll cut right to the chase. Would you be willing to take a brief sabbatical from the Plaza to manage a hotel here on Lorelei? Say, for about a month?"

  "I ... I'd have to think about it, Mr. Phule," the manager stammered, caught totally unprepared by the question.

  "Unfortunately we don't have a lot of time," the image said, shaking its head. "Yes or no?"

  "In that case, I'm afraid the answer would have to be no," Bombest said. "If nothing else, my commitment here would forbid it. I'd have to apply for the necessary leave time, and arrange for a replacement ..."

  "I'm afraid you're underestimating me again, Bombest," Phule broke in. "That's already been handled. I cleared it with Reggie Page ... you remember the name? The CEO of the Webber Combine that owns the chain? Anyway, I've explained the situation to him, and he's agreed to give you the time off, with pay, of course, and to arrange for a replacement until you return. By the way, I hope it goes without saying that you'll be generously compensated for your work here, as well as having an expense account, so that your combined income for the period will be substantial."

  "So this was all done in advance?" Bombest said.

  "There was no point in asking you if you weren't going to be available," the image said, "and, no offense, Bombest, I figured I had a better chance of getting through to Reggie and getting a timely answer than you did. Anyway, the question isn't whether or not you can do it, it's whether you will do it. You're the only one who can answer that."

  "I see. If you don't mind my asking, Mr. Phule, why me? Forgive me, but I was under the impression that we didn't particularly get along while you were staying here."

  "Oh, I don't pretend that I like you, Bombest," Phule said with a tight smile, "and I don't expect that you particularly care for me as a person. Our styles are far too different for us to ever be `good buddies.' You are, however, the best I've seen at what you do, which is handling problems at a hotel, and I happen to be in a jam right now where I need that talent. The question isn't if we are or will be friends, but if you're willing to work with me."

  Bombest pursed his lips. "I don't suppose you've checked the availability of flights from Haskin's to Lorelei, along with your other inquiries?"

  "Actually I've gone a bit further than that," the image responded. "When-excuse me, if-you're ready to go, you'll find the governor's military ship standing by at the spaceport to bring you directly here. As I said, we're on a tight timetable."

  This bit of information spoke volumes to Bombest. While there had been no love lost between himself and Phule, their relationship was positively rosy if compared to the Legionnaire commander's interaction with the military governor of the planet. While details of those encounters were never made public, it was no secret that they fought like cats and dogs whenever their paths crossed. The fact that Phule would approach the governor for the use of the official space launch, not to mention what he must have had to commit to obtain it, was a tribute to how badly the commander wanted Bombest's services. Much more so than a casual call to Reggie Page.

  "Very well, Mr. Phule," the manager said, making up his mind. "I'll do it. There are a few matters I have to clear up before I go, but they shouldn't take more than an hour or two. Then I'll be on my way."

  The image smiled. "Excellent. Welcome aboard, Bombest. I'll be looking forward to seeing you."

  After the connection was broken, Bombest had a few moments to reflect on the call which had just turned his immediate future topsy-turvy.

  To his surprise, he realized that the money being offered had not been the major factor in his decision, though it had paved the way. The real deciding point was that he had been flattered at the lengths to which the Legionnaire commander had gone to obtain his services. For someone of Willard Phule's stature and experience to say you were the best he knew at what you did and that he needed you was enough to make you move heaven and earth to prove his opinion of you justified.

  For the first time, Bombest began to understand exactly how it was that Phule was able to get zealous loyalty where others were hard-pressed to get obedience.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Journal #227

  To say the final days before the casino's grand opening were a study in freneticism would be like saying Genghis Khan dabbled in real estate.

  There were a myriad details to be handled, and my employer, with his customary tendency to position himself in the heart of things, managed to involve himself with most of them.

  Of course, they all had to be dealt with immediately.

  "I was told I could find Captain Jester here?"

  "He here ... but in meeting. Not to be disturbed."

  "We'll see about that!"

  The verbal exchange was conducted at sufficient volume that it penetrated the room's door, and the Legionnaires assembled had ample forewarning of the interruption even before the door opened.

  Tusk-anini had specifically been chosen to stand guard on the meeting, as his sheer presence was enough to intimidate most would-be intruders. Unfortunately intimidation alone was not enough to deter the petite bundle of energy which now burst through the door. Though dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, she carried herself as regally as a queen-or, to be more accurate, a spoiled princess throwing a snit fit. The sight of a dozen black-clad Legionnaires sprawled about the room, staring at her like a pack of panthers, was, however, sufficiently unnerving to at least bring the young lady to a halt.

  "Captain Jester?" she said hesitantly.

  "Yes?"

  The commander rose lazily to his feet from his seat on the sofa.

  "I need to talk to you right now. I was told-"

  "Excuse me," Phule said, holding up a restraining hand with a smile. "Now that you know who I am, may I ask who you are?"

  Though they eventually g
row to dislike the intrusions on their privacy by droves of nameless admirerers, big-name entertainers nonetheless depend on public recognition for their livelihood. It is therefore more than a little jarring to them to be confronted by someone who is not only unimpressed by but unaware of their identity.

  "Tough house," the intruder muttered, almost to herself. "All right, Captain. We'll play it your way. I'm Dee Dee Watkins, the featured attraction for the casino's grand-opening show."

  "Got it," Phule said with a curt nod. "Forgive me for not recognizing you, Ms. Watkins. Though I'm familiar with the name, I rarely have time to watch the holos, and am woefully ignorant when it comes to the various entertainers, much less their current positions in the pecking order. Now then, what can I do to help you?"

  "I was just checking on the showroom's availability for rehearsals and was told that I was going to be working with a live stage crew instead of a computerized setup-by your orders."

  "That's correct," the commander said. "Is there a problem with that?"

  "Aside from the fact that a live crew never handles their cues the same way twice, not at all," the singer said sarcastically. "Look, Captain. It's been a long time since I worked in front of an audience. I'm going to have my hands full remembering my own cues without wondering whether or not the follow spot is going to be on me or on the piano when it comes up."

  "I guess my information was incorrect," Phule said. "I was told that you would prefer to work with a live crew, provided they were competent of course."

  "Oh?" Dee Dee frowned. "Who told you that?"

  "I'm afraid I did, love."

  She turned toward the speaker, then did a visible double take.

  "Lex? My God, is that you? I didn't recognize you in that getup. Did you enlist or something?"

  The actor shot a quick glance at Phule before answering.

  "Just a temporary arrangement, I assure you," he said with a smile too easy to be genuine. "As far as the stage crew goes, would it help at all if I gave you my personal reassurance that things will be handled properly?"