“Well, I can probably answer some of your questions,” said Phule. “But maybe you’d do better by telling me what kind of job you’re looking for, and I can tell you whether there’s anything like it in the Legion.”
“I used to be a roller coaster mechanic…” Okidata said. “When I lost my job, I applied to the new government park, but they turned me down because my cousin’s out with the rebels. I guess I’m open to suggestions.”
“Really?” said Phule, like a hungry dog jumping on an unguarded sirloin. “Suppose I show you a picture and you tell me what you make of it.”
In the next fifteen minutes, Phule learned more about roller coasters and other thrill rides than he’d learned in his entire lifetime, and Okidata was still warming to his subject. Judging from the spy holos, the government park was erecting a sort of culmination of existing roller coaster design-an ultraride. “Unless you’re totally wrong about the scale, that’s gonna be the best ride on the planet,” said Okidata, shaking his head appreciatively. “That first drop has to be ten meters higher than the Kingsnake, over in Dressage Park. Those cars will be hitting some crazy speeds-and look at those corkscrew loops! Everybody’s gonna want to ride that baby.”
“There’s a problem with that, though,” said Phule. “From what you tell me, this planet is close to fanatical about thrill rides and amusement parks. Am I right?”
“I guess so,” said Okidata. “I’ve never been off-world, so that’s hard to judge. We sure like ’em a lot, though.” He turned his eyes longingly back toward the holo of the new government roller coaster.
Phule put both elbows on his desk and his chin on his folded hands. “OK, so the government has a master plan to build the biggest theme park in the planet’s history-maybe the biggest in the galaxy. A circus big enough to make up for the shortage of bread. But they’re keeping absolutely mum about it. You never heard of it, even though you applied for a job there. And my men had to go out snooping to figure out what they were doing with that big chunk of vacant land. Why aren’t they shouting it from the rooftops?”
“Well, I sort of understand that,” said Okidata. “We’ve got five or six ride parks, and they’re all playing cutthroat against the others. Every time one of ’em has a new ride, they get more customers than the rest, until somebody tops it. So when word gets out they’re building something new, all the others have spies, with hidden cameras and everything, trying to learn the secrets even before it opens. How steep is the main drop-off? How many flip-overs does it have? Are they using video enhancements? Sometimes, when a new ride opens, half the people in line are spies from the other parks, trying to figure out what they can steal for their own rides.”
“So the government is acting on the same principles as the private parks,” said Phule. “They think in terms of a limited customer pool, when the real game is drawing people from off-planet.”
“I never thought of that,” said Okidata, scratching his head. “Makes some sense, though.”
“If you want to get people in from off-world, you need to tell them about it,” said Phule, smacking his palm on the desk. “And if you get enough of them, you don’t worry as much about the competition, because there’s more business for everybody. The government’s still playing by the old rules, but the game has changed. And maybe it’s about to change some more…”
“Looks to me like maybe you could use a guy with my background,” ventured Okidata. He smiled.
“I think you’re right,” said Phule, suddenly standing up. “Ask for an application in the outer office. I’ve got a job, and you’re the man I want for it.”
“Does this mean you want me to join the Legion?” said Okidata, watching Phule, who abruptly began stuffing holos and printouts into a briefcase.
Phule looked up at him. “Not yet, son-you’ll be a civilian consultant. But I do have a job you’re perfect for. Now, go fill out that application-things are about to get exciting around here, and we need you on board!”
Journal #405
To date, the rebels remained an unknown factor in our picture of Landoor. The legion troops were here, in theory, as much to protect their interests as the government’s. But with the possible exception of the shots fired at my employer upon our landing-and there was much room for doubt about that incident-we had seen nothing of them. This did not sit well with my employer, and I knew that he would eventually decide to remedy the situation by meeting them face to face. Discovering the true nature of Landoor Park gave him the incentive he had lacked.
Needless to say, I considered this an overoptimistic approach to the problem. Not that I had any reason to believe that my employer would pay any attention to my doubts…
“So here’s what they’re building,” said Phule. Once he knew exactly what to look for, it had been a simple matter to drop a few handfuls of tiny robot cameras in the proper vicinity. Government counter-bots had hunted them down and eliminated them, but not before they’d returned enough holointelligence to give Phule a clear picture of the government’s gigantic roller coaster.
“It is quite a surprise, sir,” said Beeker, looking over his employer’s shoulder. “A rather quixotic undertaking, if you want my opinion.”
“But brilliant, in its way,” said Phule, leaning back in his chair. “If anything could attract enough money from off-world to revitalize this planet, a theme park is exactly the ticket. Why, it must be the biggest thing of its kind I’ve ever seen.”
“You would be a better judge of that than I, sir,” said Beeker. The butler was obviously not as impressed as his employer. “It strikes me as imprudent in the extreme to invest all their capital in this single project. And as you discovered, they are not interested in off-world investors.”
“Well, at least not if the investor is me,” said Phule. “It’s too bad-the one lesson they’ve learned from their history is not to let off-world money control their economy. As a result, they’ve put all their eggs in one very precarious basket.”
“The time-tested road to ruin,” said Beeker, solemnly. “If this project fails…” He let the sentence trail off.
Phule finished it for him, “If it fails, they’re wiped out.” He leaned forward and pointed to the pictures. “The devil of it is, this isn’t at all a bad idea, in and of itself. It’s almost enough to do the job they want it to do. Almost…” A dreamy look came over his face.
Beeker recognized what Phule’s expression meant. “Sir, if you are looking for a way to throw away money, you would be better advised to return to Lorelei and bet against the house in one of Maxine Pruett’s casinos. It would be considerably slower and less frustrating than what I fear you are contemplating.”
Phule chuckled. “You know my mind, don’t you, Beeker? But listen to this: The only thing really wrong with what the government is doing is that they’re relying on the park to restart their economy. And nobody else on the planet has either the capital or know-how to make it succeed.”
“Nobody except you,” said Beeker, straight-faced.
“Nobody except me,” Phule agreed. His smile was the epitome of self-satisfaction.
“You were sent here to keep the locals from killing one another, not to ruin yourself trying to bail out their economy.”
“Well, they aren’t trying to kill each other, so I must be doing something right,” said Phule.
“They haven’t been trying to kill one another since the war ended,” Beeker pointed out. “On the other hand, someone definitely tried to kill you.”
“That’s not proven,” said Phule. “The government wants me to think the rebels did it, in hopes that I’ll send out my people to suppress the rebels for them. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past Colonel Mays to send one of his own men to fire off a couple of shots in my direction.”
“Of course, that does not mean the rebels wish you no harm,” said Beeker. “They evidently have learned of your responsibility for the strafing incident.”
“Yes, well, I suppose I was going to have to confront that part of my past sooner or later,” said Phule. “Nobody was really hurt, you know…I guess it’d be better to tackle it head-on than to keep dodging it…Say, that’s not a bad idea, come to think of it. I wonder where the rebel headquarters is?”
Beeker’s jaw dropped. “Sir! It was bad enough when you contemplated throwing away your money, but I really must advise against throwing away your life as well.”
“Don’t be such a nanny, Beeker,” said Phule. He was on his feet and pacing, a sure sign that his mind was racing at top speed. “We’re not here to work for the current government, whatever they want to think. My orders are to help all the people, and that certainly includes the rebels, if they want to take advantage of my generosity.”