“That’s the first smart thing you’ve told me-at least there was some sort of hostage for your safety. Going off to someplace private with the enemy is a quick way to get yourself killed.” Phule sighed. It was a relief to see Sushi still alive and kicking; he had begun to fear the worst. But now he had to figure out what was really going on-unless, for once, Sushi was actually telling him the whole truth.
Sushi grunted. “Captain, I hate to tell you this, but if he was going to kill me, the hostage wouldn’t have made any difference. Once Nakadate turned her over to the guards, she was on her own and she knew it. Besides, I doubt she has any information that would help you if something did happen to me.”
“Well, that figures,” said Phule. “Security tells me she’s not carrying anything that gives even a hint to her origins-unless she grew up in a spaceport convenience shop. And she’s playing it like a complete innocent. All we have on her is the blackjack cheating-but we can make that stick, if we need to. Why should we let her go?”
“Because she really doesn’t know anything, and because some of our people could get hurt if she decides to make a break for it. I’ve seen her fight. She’s not worth the risk. Sir.”
Phule rubbed his chin. “Hmmm-maybe that makes sense, but I’ll have to think about it a little longer. Let’s get back to the Yakuza. What did you and Nakadate talk about when you went off alone?”
“Well, sir, I thought I could convince him I was a legitimate member of a family he didn’t know. That’s the way the Yakuza is organized-there’s no one central authority. But he wasn’t ready to buy that without corroborating evidence. He wanted to know what I was doing in the Space Legion, instead of helping out in my family’s business. And so I had to convince him I was stealing from you.”
“Stealing from me!” Phule bellowed, grabbing Sushi by the shirt front. “Are you the one who’s been monkeying around with my credit account?”
Sushi put a finger to his lips. “Calm down, Captain,” he said quietly. “What if Nakadate brought along more backup than he’s told me? I had to convince him I was stealing from you, but that doesn’t mean I really was. Your money’s protected better than an emperor’s favorite daughter-you ought to know that.”
“All I know is that my Dilithium Express account was frozen this afternoon,” growled Phule. “If that was your doing…”
“Of course it was my doing,” said Sushi. His voice was calm, but he spoke quickly, as if to forestall objections. “Look, Captain, I’m on your side-would I be telling you about this if I wasn’t? I’d transfer as much as I could to my own accounts and get on the fastest spaceliner out of here. Besides, think of the possibilities. If I can hack your account, I can hack an enemy’s account, too. If the other guy’s troops aren’t getting paid, or his supply orders aren’t getting filled, that gives you a pretty big edge over him, doesn’t it?”
“So why didn’t you tell me about this before you went and did it?” Phule demanded.
“Because if you knew somebody could do it, you’d probably set up safeguards against it. It’s what I’d have done if it were my account. And if you’d gone and done that, I might not have been able to convince Nakadate I was crooked. Besides, it’s fixed, now, Captain. Check it-if there’s a millicredit missing, you can take it out of my hide.”
“Maybe I ought to do that anyhow,” said Phule with a calculating stare. “Why couldn’t you think up some less drastic way to keep the Yakuza off your back?”
“Because I saw an opportunity I couldn’t turn down, Captain,” said the young legionnaire. “I’d been thinking for some time what I’d do if somebody from the Yakuza ever showed up. We aren’t talking a bunch of street-corner thugs here; these people take a very long view. Nakadate saw that my ability to hack your account made me dangerous to his family, too-he was thinking about finishing me off right then and there. I had to sell him the idea that I’m too important an asset to throw away. So I made him think I’m working for a super-family-somebody above everybody’s head.”
Phule looked skeptical. “I thought you said there wasn’t any overall Yakuza organization-only the separate families.”
“That’s right, Captain,” said Sushi. “At least, there hasn’t been before now. I invented it just today.”
“And you expect him to believe that? What happens when he checks back with his family and finds out you’re pulling his leg?”
“I’m about to take care of that,” said Sushi. “I need to use the comm center gear to get a message to my family. They’re going to plant the rumor that there is a superfamily, working to make the Yakuza more powerful and profitable than ever. As I said, these people take the long view. If they think it’s to their long-term advantage, they’ll play along.”
Phule stared at Sushi for a moment, thinking. “Maybe they will. But when they learn your super-family is phony as a Vegan kilobuck, what then? They’ll be after you again, and this time you won’t be able to talk your way out of it.”
Sushi grinned broadly. “Ah, but it won’t turn out to be phony, Captain. You see, that’s the beautiful part of this scam. We’re going to take over the Yakuza! Now, let’s go down to Comm Central and get the ball rolling.”
He started off down the corridor. For once completely speechless, Phule followed him.
5
A hell of a place to hold a formation, thought Brandy, looking at the Grand Ballroom of the Fat Chance Casino Hotel. In front of her, over a dozen rookie Space Legionnaires stood at attention on the dance floor-three of them Gambolts. They had been aroused by automated early-morning wake-up calls from the hotel’s central computer, for this, their first training session with Omega Company. A variety of exercise equipment had been brought in from the hotel’s fitness center (an amenity that the visiting gamblers largely ignored). This session had been designed to incorporate physical training as much as basic indoctrination in military discipline.
Brandy stared at them with frank curiosity; it was unusual for the company to get recruits who hadn’t already come through boot camp, learning the ropes of how to be a legionnaire-and, for the most part, convincing their drill instructors that they didn’t have what it took. Or that they had an attitude that would make them a problem wherever they went. That was the raw material that had gone to make up the Omega Mob, and it had made the company the butt of every Legion joke-until Phule came, and showed that even the ugliest ducklings could grow up into something unexpected.
Could this crop of new recruits represent a change of course for Omega? Had the company’s success under its new commander convinced the brass to start sending a better quality of raw material? Or had these newcomers somehow been diagnosed as likely misfits and malcontents even before they’d put on uniforms? Well, it didn’t really matter. Whatever this crop of rookies had been before they got here, it was Brandy’s job to make them into legionnaires. Might as well get started, she thought. If it’s going to be bad news, waiting to fund it out won’t make it any better.
“All right, rookies, listen up,” she said, stepping forward and raising her voice to a penetrating bark. “You aren’t going to like a lot of what’s going to happen here, but I don’t care whether you like it or not. It’s my job to make you into Space Legionnaires, and I’ll do it if I have to kill half of you. Do you understand that?”
The troops responded with a general murmur of acquiescence, certainly nothing approaching enthusiasm.
“What did you say?” Brandy demanded, at the top of her lungs. This was an old drill-instructor’s game. Usually somebody would get flustered enough to say something she could take as an excuse for a first-class chewing out. Even an innocent reply would do-the point was to show the recruits that they were in a new environment, where rank and discipline and the rules were what mattered. Even if the recruits thought the rules were stupid (which they often were, given the quality of the Space Legion’s top brass in recent decades), they were going to have to learn to pay them lip service. Eventually they’d figure out where the loopholes were so they could get through their hitches without being miserable the entire time. When push came to shove, a clever, resourceful legionnaire who could break the rules without getting caught was better to have in your outfit than a mindless rule-follower. But to get that kind of legionnaire, you had to start off by enforcing the rules with an iron hand.