Tullie Bascomb frowned. "Are you threatening us?"
Lola laughed, lightly. "Oh, no, Mr. Bascomb. Just reminding you that your casino isn't the only game in town. I think Captain Jester knows that, even if you don't. It's too bad he isn't here to talk to me. I bet he'd be a lot more reasonable..."
Victor Phule gritted his teeth. "If the boy were reasonable, we wouldn't be in this mess at all," he growled. "I swear, the brat hasn't done a sensible thing in years, starting with joining the Space Legion and abandoning the name his parents gave him. You'd think he'd have more respect for his own family..."
"Now, Mr. Phule," said Bascomb softly. "Let's try to keep our focus on the issue at hand..."
"Hey, I don't think he's that far out of line." said Ernie, speaking for the first time since the meeting had begun. "I know what it's like when you don't get any respect from people. Believe me, I know." Victor Phule looked at Ernie and nodded. "Yes, I expect you do," he said. "It's ironic-a fellow builds up something by his own efforts, and all of a sudden everybody around him thinks they know more about it than he does. I've seen it all too often..."
"Hell, that's what happens when you let somebody else try to run your life" said Ernie, sympathetically. "I bet if you and I just sat down together, without any middlemen, we could get this whole problem straightened out in jig time. Come to think of it, why don't we go have a drink and do just that? We'll probably be back with a done deal before these two are finished calling each other names."
Sushi was wearing a set of headphones and carefully adjusting dials on his device when Do-Wop walked in.
"Hey, man, what's up?" said Do-Wop. "We figured out what Qual and his homeboys are talking about yet?"
"Shh," said Sushi, pointing to the device. "I've finally got them pretty well tuned in. And I've learned one thing already. Qual was right-they all speak slightly different versions of their language."
"Huh. Who'd've thunk it?" said Do-Wop, pulling up a chair. "What are they jabberin' about?"
"Mostly technical stuff so far," said Sushi. "Adjusting that machine-the sklern, Qual called it. And in between, joking about something-here, you give a listen." He took off the headphones and reached up to turn on a speaker.
"Ve ought to rotate it two grimbugs upward," said. one Zenobian voice.
"Two and a fifth," came another-this one recognizably Flight Leftenant Qual. "That'll just clear the faffie weed duster."
"Vorking on two and a fifth," answered the first voice.
Then, in a different tone, "Hey, Flort, didja view the Tail-vippers last sundown?"
"Sssst, dey raise a stench in my nostrils," said a third voice-apparently Flort. "Dey haven't had an efficient leaper since Blurg retreated to his domicile."
"Watch it, Zoot," said Qual. "Don't overcrank..."
"Tightly vocussed at two and a fift," said the first voice again. Then Zoot added, "Don't underrate Kloog. Yen he's in the league a little longer been, an exemplary leaper he'll be."
"Kloog is widout grace," growled Flort. "He could take lessons from a gryff."
"This shit don't make no sense," said Do- Wop, drumming his fingers on the table next to the equipment.
"1 think they're talking about some kind of sports team from their home city," said Sushi. "Hard to tell exactly, because the words don't all translate into anything we have an exact equivalent for."
"That's for damn sure," said Do-Wop. "I think Rev's lookin' for a weefle in a viddleworf. If it wasn't such a sweet deal workin' for him instead of pulling regular Legion duty, I'd tell him so myself."
Sushi looked at him with raised eyebrows, then said, "Well, I don't see any percentage in ruining a good scam, either. But you know, even if Rev's ideas never pan out, this whole Zenobian language thing is fascinating. If I could figure out a way to rig translators to deal with it, I bet there's a lot of money to be made. So I'm not just in this to get out of other work. And if you're not just looking for a new way to goof off, it could work out to benefit you, too."
Do-Wop looked doubtful. "I dunno, man. You listen to a bunch of crazy stuff long enough, you could maybe end up crazy yourself."
Over the speaker, Flight Leftenant Qual's voice said, "Now doxen up the regulator for a test projection."
"Gott it, Leftenant," said Zoot. Then, after a pause, "Regulator energetically doxened; ready to project, sir."
Do-Wop waved a hand. "See what I mean? Nothin' but crazy stuff. Maybe it's worth a million, I dunno."
"Kloog seems graceful enough for me," said Zoot over the speaker. "The purpose is not the senses to bedazzle, but to advance the pellet."
"Kloog cannot retain da pellet in his claws long enough to advance it," said Flort. "He raises a continual stench in my nostrils."
"Maintain the doxenization or we will be forced to recommence," said Qual, sternly. "Your sporting chatter can be retained for a more propitious occasion."
"Double vision, Flight Leftenant," said the other two Zenobians, almost in unison.
"Double vision?" said Do-Wop. "I told ya, this is crazy stuff. You keep listenin' to these lizards, you're gonna end up with scales on your ass."
"So should I tell Rev you're tired of working on this project?" said Sushi, with a mischievous expression. "I hear tell Remmie' s asking for volunteers for a heavy construction squad..."
"Uh, hey, Soosh, just kiddin'," said Do-Wop. "Lizard talk is the real deal for me. What did you say you wanted me to do?"
"Well, for starters, you could run down to supply and get about a dozen blank recording cartridges," said Sushi. "We don't want any of this immortal Zenobian conversation to get lost just because we ran out of cartridges, do we now?"
"Cartridges comin' up," said Do-Wop, and headed out the door.
Sushi watched him leave, chuckling, then put the headphones on again. Maybe there was a way to broaden the standard semantic filtering circuits...
"You've got the right idea, old boy," said Victor Phule, standing up. He put a hand on Ernie's shoulder. "Come on-I'm buying. We'll have things sorted out in no time at all." Tullie Bascomb looked up in alarm as Ernie stood up, grinning. "Hold on, Mr. Phule. The captain hasn't authorized you to strike any agreements with these people..."
Lola was already on her feet, hands on her hips. "Ernie, I can't let you make any deals without my advice."
"Oh, encapsulate it," said Victor Phule, waving a hand. "You two buzzards want to dictate every pixel of this agreement, but that's the stupidest possible way to go about things. I'll tell you what's going to happen. This gentleman and I will sit down together and find a solution we can both agree on. Then we'll bring it back to you two to fiddle with the details; I'm sure there'll be plenty of detail work left for you. But for now, you're going to leave it up to the principals. And Bascomb, if you don't like it, you can call up my son. I suspect he'll tell you to step aside and let two gentlemen arrive at something we can all live with.
Come on, Ernie. Let's go get a drink." He walked out the door arm in arm with Ernie, leaving Bascomb and Lola staring after them, openmouthed.
"What do you think they're up to?" asked Lola. She and Tullie Bascomb were nursing twin glasses of synthascotch on the rocks in his office, waiting for Victor Phule and Ernie to return.