He also saw, out of the corner of his eye, that two security guards were standing by the let-off area. They had pulled Okidata out of the cabin and were holding him by the arms. Suddenly the end of the ride looked a lot different than it had when they’d gotten on. Were we double-crossed, or just unlucky? he wondered.
Then the car swept into the second loop, and Do-Wop forgot all about the guards for another couple of minutes.
The guards were standing by the track as the car slowly came to a smooth stop, and the padded restraints automatically lifted off the passengers’ shoulders. One of the guards, a big man with biceps the size of Do-Wop’s waist, strode forward and said, “All right, you guys have had your fun. Now you’re gonna come with us, and this part ain’t gonna be fun at all.” His frown made his brow look even lower than it was.
“But this is not the plan,” said Mahatma, brightly. “We still need to go on the other rides.”
“I’ll give you a ride,” snarled the big guard, stepping forward.
Tusk-anini put out a hand. “You talk nice to Mahatma,” he said, glowering down at the guard. The two Gambolts sidled up to flank him. The sight of an angry-looking seven-foot warthog and two six-foot felines was sufficient to stop the guard in his tracks. That gave Do-Wop time to maneuver around to the front of the group.
“Yo, man, let’s not jump to conclusions,” he said, trying his best not to look as if he’d been doing anything the guards might object to. “We can explain everything, OK?”
“You’re trespassin’ on gov’ment property, which you better start explainin’,” said the guard. His swagger had returned, now that he was confronting somebody he thought he could intimidate by sheer size.
“Well, we weren’t exactly trespassing…” Do-Wop began.
“Don’t give me no mouth,” said the guard. He raised a ham-like hand and stepped forward to slap Do-Wop.
The slap never landed. There was a brief electronic sound, and the huge man slumped to the ground. Anyone paying attention might have noticed Mahatma pointing a small device toward the guard, but nobody except the legionnaires would have recognized the device as a model SR-1 Zenobian stun ray.
Do-Wop looked down at the guard and shrugged. “I was gonna tell him, but he didn’t wait,” he said. He turned to the other guard, who stood staring at his fallen comrade. “He’ll be OK in a little while, but we gotta talk fast. You guys can still get in on the deal. Here it is…”
A short while later, the legionnaires were stepping onto the Monster, ready for another roller-coaster ride. This time nobody interrupted them.
Journal #435
As my employer discovered, the construction of thrill rides was only one aspect of helping the rebels build their park. A variety of other amusements needed to be provided: strolling musicians, pageants, parades, concerts, various credit-operated games-all at least nominally related to the park’s broader theme, a fantastic re-creation of the rebels’ jungle encampment. Computer simulations of native wildlife had to be created, artificial bayous dug and flooded for boat trips to “trading posts” offering a variety of merchandise, from camouflage garments to red bandannas to toy guns.
Food service and sanitary facilities were also necessary, as was quick transportation from one part of the park to another for those customers disinclined to walk. And of course personnel to sell and take tickets, oversee the shops and restaurants, operate and maintain all these various facilities, and clean up after the park had closed. In the end, the park’s payroll numbered into the thousands. And while by now there were several affluent local backers providing capital, the bulk of it came out of my employer’s pockets.
“I think it would have been easier to invade the planet and overthrow the government,” said Phule, looking up from his computer screen, currently displaying a spreadsheet detailing his Dilithium Express card balance. “It certainly would have been cheaper.”
“No doubt you should have considered that some time ago, sir,” said Beeker, who was standing looking over Phule’s shoulder. “Besides, you already had a hand in bringing down one government on this planet. Or have you forgotten the strafing incident again?”
“How could I?” said Phule. “Le Duc Taep drops it into his conversation every now and then, just to remind me that I owe him, I think. I’m hocked up to my eyeballs, Beeker. If this amusement park doesn’t make money, I’m going to spend the rest of my life paying it off.”
“Well, sir, there are a few positive signs,” said Beeker. “The local hotels are booked solid for the opening dates, mostly by off-planet visitors. Your reporter friend, Miss Jennie’s publicity stories seem to have been effective.”
“Don’t ever tell Jennie she’s been giving us publicity,” said Phule. “Those are hard news stories, as far as she’s concerned. But you’re right-they’ve been invaluable. Let’s hope it translates into customers.”
“Any influx of money would be a very good thing, sir,” said Beeker. “If the rebels had the wherewithal to repay your loans themselves, they wouldn’t have needed the loans to begin with.”
“I’m all too aware of that,” said Phule, staring at the numbers on the screen. He punched a series of commands into the computer, then said, “At a rough calculation, the park needs to average four thousand visitors a day-roughly one and a half million visitors annually just to pay the basic running expenses.”
“The entire population would have to visit the park at least once a year,” said Beeker, nodding. “Actually, sir, given the local popularity of such attractions, that would seem to be within reach.”
“I suppose so,” said Phule. “But I’m not going to see any money unless they do better than that-at least double it, I’d think. Otherwise, my cash flow is going to do a fair imitation of a waterfall.”
“I’d expect Dilithium Express will stand by you, sir,” said Beeker. “After all, you have an excellent record…”
Phule’s communicator buzzed. “Yes, Mother, what is it now?”
“It’s Le Duc Taep now, sweetie,” said Mother. “He’s got a sheaf of blueprints and that gleam in his eye that says you’d better get ready to spend some more money. Makes me think I should’ve started building my own park instead of joining the Legion. Or maybe you’d like to give me the money directly?”
Phule groaned. “I guess you’d better send him in,” he said. The totals on the spreadsheet were about to change again. He wondered if they’d ever get back in the black.
17
Journal #442
Despite all setbacks, the day finally came when there was nothing more to do but open New Atlantis Park and see how many people came inside. As Le Duc Taep had planned, both the rebel park and the government park were to open their gates on the same day. It became increasingly evident that the dual opening day would be a landmark event in the recent history of Landoor. Schools and government offices were given a holiday to help swell the attendance at Landoor Park, and many businesses followed suit. Naturally, this was expected to give New Atlantis Park a significant boost in attendance, as well.
Off-planet tourists began arriving in a steady stream during the week before opening day. These tourists gave an immediate boost to local business, filling the hotels, restaurants, and shops as well as the beaches and existing parks. It began to appear as if my employer’s heavy publicity campaign had paid off handsomely, at least as far as initial interest in the two amusement parks.
What he hadn’t expected was the arrival of an entirely different kind of visitor…
“Uh-oh,” said Rembrandt.
“Now, that’s an encouraging statement,” said Armstrong, looking up from a printout of political commentary culled from the net. The two officers were catching up on their news reading over breakfast, and neither had said a word until now.
Rembrandt threw her printout on top of his pages. “Take a look at the story on the lower left, and see whether it encourages you,” she said.
“Diplomats arrive for park openings,” read Armstrong. “Hey, that can’t be all bad. Bigwigs coming means more publicity for the park.”
“Keep reading.”
“Ambassador Gottesman and the peacekeeping verification team made Landoor Orbit on the Pride of Durdane…A spokesperson said their visit had been planned several months ago, but they were pleased to learn that their arrival coincided with a planetwide celebration…” Armstrong looked up. “So?”
“Keep reading.”
“Also on board was a military delegation headed up by…” Armstrong blanched. “Holy mackerel!”
“You see what I mean,” said Rembrandt. “The captain needs to see this right away.” She stood up from the table and grabbed the printout from Armstrong’s hands.
“Hang on, I’ve got one piece of bacon left,” said Armstrong, reaching for his plate.
“Eat it on the run, this is a red alert,” said Rembrandt. She turned and headed for the captain’s office without looking back.