"Which brings me to the second half of my plan," said Sushi. "Have you noticed the machine that Flight Leftenant Qual and his team are working on-the Sklem?"
"One could hardly help noticing it," said Beeker. "It seems quite an eccentric device, although I've yet to fathom its purpose. Ah... but perhaps you were going to inform us on that point, young man?"
Sushi smiled. "Why, yes, Beeker. Not only that, but unless I've completely misunderstood everything so far, I think it's the whole answer to your problem."
"Now you've got me really interested," said Phule. "I tried to get Qual to explain it, but I couldn't understand the first thing he was saying. Either he was giving me doubletalk, or that stupid translator was acting up again."
"Funny you should mention that," said Sushi. "As it happens, that's exactly the problem that led to my finding out what the Sklem really does. It started when Rev got an idea about trying to get the Zenobians to listen to his spiel about the King..."
"What we really need is to find out what those people want," said Tullie Bascomb. "They were all ready to accept a buyout at something like eight cents on the dollar, and they walked on it when we told them their pictures had
gone out as part of the casino's standard publicity package.
"That doesn't make sense."
"Well, it looks very much as if they don't want publicity." said Rex, who was in charge of the Fat Chance's lavish entertainment program. "That doesn't make a lot of sense to me; but then again, I've never-been one to pass up a chance to get my face in front of a holo camera. You never know when somebody'll come along with a job ... you can't refuse."
"Funny you should use that phrase," said Bascomb, drumming his fingers on the desk. "I wonder..."
"Wonder what?" barked Victor Phule, who'd been sitting with growing discontent during the casino managers' meeting. "I negotiated the deal, good old Ernie accepted, and it was your harebrained publicity department that queered it by forwarding his picture to the media without asking anybody whether it had been cleared. Send me to talk to him and that woman, and I can have them both eating out of our hand in no time fiat."
Bascomb grunted. "Hell, if you hadn't stuck your nose in and left deal-making to somebody who knew the rules everybody else was playing by, we'd have had the whole thing settled two days ago," he said. "Now, if you'd let me finish what I was about to say..."
"Gentlemen, this is getting no place," said Doc, the former character actor now playing the role of commanding officer of the Fat Chance Casino's security force-a picked band of actors in black uniforms, backed up by a few Legion veterans to supply real muscle on the off chance they had to deal with anything worse than an unruly drunk. "Why don't you both back off instead of butting heads every thirty seconds? We might get even figure out something to do, if the rest of us could get a word out of our mouths." Victor Phule and Tullie Bascomb glared at one another for a moment, but by their silence they appeared to accept Doc's reprimand. Doc nodded. "Now, Tullie, what was the point you were about to make?"
Bascomb laid his hands on the table, palms up. "I've got an idea why Erkeep doesn't want his name in the media, and maybe- an idea what we can do about it," he said. "I think he's on a hit list somewhere, and he's afraid the publicity's going to give away his location."
"There ought to be ways to deal" with that," said Rex. "Our makeup people can fix the winner so his own mother wouldn't recognize him. And 1 suspect, with Mr. Phule's help, we can find ways to get him and the young lady to almost any destination in the Alliance without attracting undue attention."
"That's fine, if the people looking for them aren't too mad at them," said Tullie. "But from the way they reacted, 1 suspect it won't be enough."
"I don't get it," said Victor Phule. "I mean, Ernie is a fine fellow-salt of the earth, if you know what I mean but 1 don't see us as having an infinite obligation to him. Pay the fellow off, whatever it costs, and give him and his lady first-class tickets to wherever they want to go, and that's all. Story over."
"It'd be nice if that was the whole story," said Doc. "But I'm afraid the ending wouldn't be anything we'd want to take credit for. Maybe I'm getting softheaded in my old age, but I'd like to think we'd take better care of somebody we promised we'd make a part owner of the casino. And I think Captain Jester would agree with me."
"Perhaps he would," said Victor Phule. "That doesn't mean it's a sound business decision."
"Well, when you get right down to it, the captain put his own shares up for grabs at our urging, and lost them despite some pretty long odds," said Rex. "And good business decision or not, maybe just out of basic consideration, he ought to get some say in how we treat the fellow that won them. Even if it wasn't the fellow we originally meant to win." He glanced significantly in Victor Phule's direction. Phule snorted, but said nothing.
"That makes sense to me," said Tullie. "Why don't we give the captain a call and see what he suggests? It's midevening, his time-so unless that planet's got a lot of nightlife than it looks like on tri-vee, he ought to be in hailing range of his desk."
"You're bound and determined to involve him, so I see no point in wasting my breath," said Victor Phule. "Go but don't expect the boy to have anything sensible to say. I'd lay odds we'll be no better off when you've talked to him than we are now."
"I'd take that bet," said Tullie Bascomb, reaching for the phone.
"That's the sticking point," said Tullie Bascomb to Phule. "I thought your father had talked them into accepting a buyout for a fraction of actual value-I have to give the old rascal credit, for once. I figured they'd hold out for at least ten million, more likely twenty, but he had them ready to bite on five! I was having a hard time keeping a straight face. But once they learned the casino had taken Erkeep's picture, they hollered bloody murder and walked out."
Phule sighed. The problem with the casino shares was not solving itself as smoothly as he'd expected. He didn't particularly mind having lost them; he'd never have put them up as a prize if he'd cared that much. Besides, it was -probably a good idea to hand his father some of the responsibility for keeping the business profitable for the members of Omega Company, who were the real majority stockholders. The old fellow's business experience was nothing to sneeze at, even if it was in a different industry. Meanwhile, Phule could keep his attention focused on managing Omega Company-and his own portfolio.
But who'd have thought the jackpot winner would turn down a quick and easy payment of several million dollars just because the casino had taken his photo?
"There has to be an explanation," said Phule. "Have they made any kind of counteroffer?"
"No, that's what has me puzzled," said Bascomb. "They just walked out and left us trying to figure out where we'd gone wrong. At first we thought they'd figured out how low our offer really was. It was only when the stenobot played back their conversation that we even got a clue what the problem was."
"Have they stayed in touch?" asked Phule. "I can't imagine they'd give up that easily, when everything else seemed to be in place."
"My guess is they'll be back within a couple of days at the outside," said Bascomb. "I called to run a few scenarios past you, to see how you want to handle them."