"if you don't mind my saying so, sir, I find it difficult to understand your father's involvement in this scheme," said Beeker, over a hot cuppa tea. "It is hardly in character."
"Oh, I'd have to disagree, Beeks," said Phule, looking ::p from his Port-a-Brain computer. "Dad's always had a inborn streak-when he's got a point to make, he insists on ramming it down the throat of anyone who doesn't instantly agree. I didn't even mind giving him a chance to win my share of the casino, even though it was a long shot.
He could run the place as well as I ever did, and the troops will still get the dividends from their shares."
"And now you've delivered a controlling share to some unknown gambler, like a handout to some beggar on the street," sniffed Beeker. "What if he tries to run the casino himself? He's likely to run it into bankruptcy in no time at all." Phule scoffed. "Oh, he can't do anything significant without winning a stockholder's vote. The fellows in Omega Company would never back him--they know Tullie and Lex and the others too well to, turn them loose just because the new fellow wants to make a change."
"Do they?" asked Beeker, sharply. "What if this new fellow claims a new management team could increase profits? Or what if he offers a price for their shares that's too good to resist? It wouldn't be the first time stockholders have gotten greedy when somebody dangled cash in front of their noses."
"Oh, it's not impossible," said Phule, leaning back in his chair and looking at his butler. "We still don't know very much about this fellow-but I doubt he's got the capital to pull off that kind of trick. If he did, I think we'd have heard about him before he showed up at the Fat Chance."
"A very dubious assumption, sir," said Beeker. "The fellow could come from almost anywhere. If I were in charge of the casino, I'd be checking the databases to see if he has a criminal record anywhere in the Alliance."
"I think we can trust Tullie Bascomb to find that out for us," said Phule. "In fact, I think that's one of the things we'd know by now, if there were anything to concern us. My suspicion is that the big winner's just a regular fellow maybe a salesman, or a small businessman-who wanted to play with the high rollers and ended up getting luckier than he had any right to. When he realizes he's in deep water with all the big fish, he'll listen to reason and let the professionals handle things."
"It would be pleasant to think there was such an elegant solution," said Beeker. "Unfortunately, sir, in my experience the ability to recognize that one is out of one's depth is a rare commodity--especially among those most in need of such insight. Far more common is an indomitable thickness of skull bordering on complete absence of gray matter." Before Phule could answer, Mother's voice came over me intercom.
"Captain, we've got trouble," she said. At that very instant, Chief Inspector Snieff of the AEIOU burst through his office door. She was one step ahead of Lieutenant Rembrandt, this morning's OD.
"Captain, I demand an explanation of this outrage," Snieff barked;
"Do you, Chief Inspector?" Phule' s eyebrows rose ever so slightly. "And what outrage do you want me to explain? I haven't noticed any outrages in particular, unless maybe you're talking about your dog."
"Aha!" said Chief Inspector Snieff, pointing a finger at me captain. "And exactly why do you mention our beloved mascot, Barky, the Environmental Dog?"
"That ought to be pretty obvious," said Phule, staring at her. "He's been attacking my people ever since he set foot an this planet."
Snieff pulled her self up into a fair semblance of wrongly accused innocence. "Barky never attacks unprovoked," she said. "He only responds to pollution, or: to direct harassment. He would not attack your people unless they were causing some kind of ecological problem. And he is 'trained not to injure the suspects he apprehends, merely to hold anyone who has detectable levels of a carefully delimited list of pollutants on their person, or in their ongings, until one of the human members of our team arrives to take charge."
"I'm sorry, Inspector, but you'll have to find somebody else to swallow that line," said Phule. "Your dog was chasing one of my legionnaires all around the dining hall just last night. You saw him, too--you were there."
"I am surprised at you, Captain," said Snieff. "The incident was clearly provoked by your legionnaire."
Beeker, who had been sitting quietly until now, snorted and said, "Provoked? Good Lord, madam, provoked in what way? By walking to the salad bar to get his dinner?"
"I saw him taunting poor Barky," said Snieff, lifting her chin and looking down her nose at the butler.
Beeker looked up at her, and said quietly, "Madam, you might discover more insight into the unfortunate animal's lack of manners by looking to the character of his human guardians than by postulating any provocative acts by his unlucky victims. If your dog is so poorly trained that he responds to this supposed taunting, then an objective observer would have no choice but to interpret that as proof of malfeasance on the part of his handlers."
Acting quickly, before Snieff could respond to Beeker's indictment, Phule smiled, and said, "Have a seat, Inspector. Tell me what the trouble is, and we'll try to sort it out." Snieff glared at Beeker, then settled into a chair next to Phule's desk.
"I'll get directly to the point, Captain. The last two days, I have heard your people firing weapons out in the desert-no doubt shooting at the local wildlife, possibly even harming it."
"I beg your pardon, ma' am," said Rembrandt. "If our people are shooting at something, you can be dead certain they're harming it. That's what weapons do, you know."
"Easy, Lieutenant," said Phule, raising a hand to quiet Rembrandt. He turned to Snieff. "Yes, Inspector, our people do shoot weapons out in the desert. Weapons training is an important part of the Legion's job, you know. But we aren't shooting at any local fauna--or the local flora, either, in case you're worried about that. We have a regulation practice range set up out beyond the perimeter. If you'd care to inspect it, I think we can even let you and your people fire a few test rounds..."
"I think not," said Snieff. She stood, abruptly. "However, I do intend to make certain your people aren't taking potshots at the local animals. Be very careful, Captain. You military types may not think much of the AEIOU, but we have considerable power of our own when we decide to put it to use. Good day." She turned and stalked out of the office, nearly knocking- down Rembrandt as she went past.
"Well, well," said Phule, after the door had closed behind her. "I think we're going to have to do something about those hunters sooner than I planned."
"I wouldn't delay, sir," said Rembrandt, shaking her head. "She may be annoying as all get-out, but she's right about the AEIOU's power. And we're already way over on the wrong side of her. If she ever gets wind of a real violation we could be in worse trouble than anything Headquarters has ever thought up for us."
"You're right, Remmie," said Phule. "We've got to get the hunters out of the vicinity. The only problem is where we're going to move them to..." He rubbed his head then raised his wrist comm to speaking range and said, "Mother, find Flight Leftenant Qual for me. I think it's time we made use of his local knowledge again."
"Your wish is my command, sweetie pants," came Mother's mockingly sultry voice. Phule sighed. At least one thing was still more or less normal around Omega Company.
Brandy and the training squad-plus a handful of other leqionnaires who seemed to have nothing better to do-hiked a couple of kilometers out into the desert. Thumper gazed curiously at the exotic landscape around him-this was only the third planet he had been to in person. And, of course, the incident with General Blitzkrieg had resulted in his entire basic training squad being confined to camp-so he'd seen very little of Mussina's World beyond the Legion boot camp and the spaceport.