“Yes, Sergeant,” said Garbo, shouldering her pack.
“Good,” said Brandy. She thought to herself, They said these Gambolts make ideal soldiers. I wonder what’s wrong with them that they ended up in the Omega Mob? She remembered Phule’s determination to make his company an example of the Legion’s true potential. Maybe these Gambolt recruits were the next step toward making that determination a reality. We’ll find out soon enough, she thought, and headed down the corridor, with Garbo close behind.
Tusk-anini was perched on a stool near the entrance of the Fat Chance Casino when two humans in bad suits stepped up to him. Even Tusk-anini, who paid very little attention to human clothing styles, could tell that the suits were bad. Not only cheap and ill-fitting, but unattractive by design. They looked as ugly as the uniforms the Omega Company had worn before Phule’s arrival.
“Excuse me, friend, can you direct us to the Fat Chance Casino?” said the taller of the two humans. He wasn’t that much taller, but the difference in height was the only marked distinction between them. They had nondescript faces, mousy brown hair in nearly identical unflattering short cuts, and extremely unstylish dark glasses. They also carried identical briefcases, in a sort of grayish dark material that had come out of a vat in some chemical plant. The briefcases were almost the same noncommittal color as the suits.
“You standing in front of Fat Chance,” said Tusk-anini, cautiously. While neither of the humans had done anything in particular to alarm him, he had a bad feeling about them. One thing the Volton had learned during his association with humans was that feelings could be trusted. In fact, they sometimes gave you better answers than the most rigorous logical analysis.
The shorter human looked up and noticed the sign and said, “Yes, so we are.” Now that he heard the voice, Tusk-anini realized that the shorter one was a female, a fact that the baggy suit and short haircut did much to conceal from the casual glance.
The man spoke again, “Are you a casino employee?”
“Yes, I am,” said Tusk-anini-not quite truthfully, for while the legionnaires had been brought to Lorelei to guard the casino, they had always been freelance contractors, not regular employees. Now, of course, as a member of Phule’s Company Tusk-anini was in fact a part-owner of the Fat Chance. A comparatively small part-owner, since every member of Phule’s Company also had shares, but put together the Omega Mob was the majority stockholder.
“You’re just the sophont we need to talk to, then,” said the man. “We’re trying to gather information on the operation here. We’d like you to answer a few questions.”
“Asking anything you want. I answer what I may,” said the Volton cautiously. He had begun to wonder whether these two humans were from a competing casino, or from one of the criminal organizations the Legion was here to guard against. His eyes narrowed, giving his warthog-like face an even fiercer expression than normal.
“Maybe I should rephrase that,” said the man. He pulled a wallet out of his jacket pocket and flipped it open to reveal a holo-ID, which he held up a few inches from Tusk-anini’s snout. Above his picture (which miraculously made him look even less attractive than he was in person) were the initials IRS; below it was written Roger Peele, Special Agent. “We’re in receipt of information to the effect that your employer is failing to report substantial amounts of income,” said Special Agent Peele. “If you impede a lawful investigation, you’re guilty of conspiracy to defraud a government agency. That’s a serious offense, in case you didn’t know it.”
Tusk-anini abruptly stood up. This brought him to his full height, nearly seven feet tall, and put his enormous barrel chest nearly at eye level for the two humans. “You ask me betray Captain Jester!” he accused. “Tusk-anini no do that! Not right to betray the captain.”
“Easy now, friend-you’re looking at this all wrong,” said the woman in a calm voice. “We appreciate your loyalty to your commander-that’s what makes the military work. But sometimes you have to look beyond that to a higher loyalty. Your captain has to report to his generals, and they report to civilian authorities. The Interstellar Revenue System is part of that civilian authority, a very important part of it. It’s your duty to cooperate with us.”
“If captain say it my duty, I do it,” said Tusk-anini. “He not say it, I not do it. You go away now.” He took a step forward. His powerful physique and staring eyes made him a menacing figure. The two IRS agents involuntarily stepped backward.
“Very well,” snarled Special Agent Peele. “We have more than one way to find out what we want. And you’d better hope your own nose is clean-because if it’s not, you’ll be in the same trouble as your captain.”
“You call my nose dirty?” roared Tusk-anini, and at that the two IRS agents backed off still another step. “You go away and leave captain alone,” he repeated.
“We’ve come here to do a job, the same as you,” said the woman. “We’re not going anywhere until we’ve finished it. When we do, it’ll go better for you if you’re on the right side, friend.”
“Tusk-anini know what side he on,” growled the Volton. “You not on captain’s side, you not my friend. I no like people who call me friend when they not.” He took another step forward, and this time the two IRS agents turned and hurried away.
“Captain! You’re just in time-you won’t believe what’s happened now.”
Phule was hurrying down an inside corridor to the company’s command and communications headquarters to learn what progress was being made in the search for Sushi and the mysterious man he had disappeared with. But he turned at the sound of Dee Dee Watkins’s voice. He already knew that her problems usually required far more time and energy than they really deserved. But to ignore Dee Dee was to risk escalating the problem. “Yes, Miss Watkins?” he said, trying his best to look concerned.
The tiny blonde entertainer was standing with her hands on her hips, looking as if she were prepared to challenge the entire fighting strength of Phule’s Company if it stood between her and what she wanted. Considering that she was wearing a little girl’s flowered pinafore and had her hair up in pigtails, her ability to project an air of menace was no small accomplishment. Perhaps she had some future as an actress after all, Phule thought to himself.
“Take a look for yourself,” she said. “Lex has me wearing this ridiculous costume for the big closing number, all because he’s jealous of me, and he’s trying to sabotage my career.”
Phule looked at the costume more closely. While it was clearly not designed to emphasize Dee Dee’s major assets, it more than made up in cuteness what it lacked in sex appeal. Even then, it fit snugly in the right places, and displayed a very satisfactory length of leg…
He made himself focus on the starlet’s face. “I’m sorry, Miss Watkins, I’m afraid my military duties have eaten up too much of my time for me to keep up with what’s happening on the artistic side of the operation. If you’re asking my personal opinion, I don’t think you look at all ridiculous in the costume, but of course I’m no expert.”
Dee Dee’s frown deepened, “Well, Captain, I’m disappointed. If you’d try…”
Whatever she was about to say was interrupted by a shout of “Stop him!”
Before Phule could turn to see what the commotion was about, a small, dark-clad figure dashed out of a doorway leading back to the casino and cut directly between Phule and the actress, knocking them both off balance. A pair of uniformed legionnaires burst out of the same doorway at full speed. Somehow, they managed to avoid Dee Dee, but in the process they crashed into one another. One bounced off the wall and caught his balance against a small, potted frogwood tree, but the other went down-catching Phule directly in the legs. Dee Dee let out a piercing shriek as the captain landed on the floor.
“Oh my God. Captain, I’m sorry, sir,” said the legionnaire who’d bounced off the potted plant. He rushed to help Phule upright, making little brushing motions as if to clean off the captain’s uniform.
The legionnaire who’d knocked Phule down looked up with a dazed expression. His gaze paused for a moment on Dee Dee’s legs, but quickly moved upward when he realized whom he’d decked in his rush. He clambered quickly to his feet and stood at attention. ” ‘Pologies, Cap’n,” he said.
“No damage done, men,” said Phule, looking at the legionnaires. “Gabriel, what’s this all about?” he asked the one who’d helped him to his feet.
“We spotted a spy, sir,” said Gabriel. “Right here in the Fat Chance.”