“What?” said Escrima, mortally offended. “You want me to feed you trash?”
Phule nodded. “Yes, absolutely,” he said. “That way I know when we’re being cheated, and I’ll get mad enough to do something about it. You know I’m behind you all the way, Escrima. Look here: On this new assignment, if you want something, let me know and I’ll figure out a way to get it. If I have to put a fleet of private transports on the job, I’ll get it. But believe me, we should be able to use the local stuff, too. Just wait and see.”
Escrima nodded. “If you tell me that, I believe you. All right, then, Captain. We got a deal.”
“Good,” said Phule. “Now, I told you I’d get you the best equipment available. I’ve got a new field kitchen ordered-a prototype, designed to allow you to prepare anything you could do in a five-star restaurant under field conditions. We’re going to give it a test here on Landoor before we get out somewhere where we can’t get it replaced. It arrives day after tomorrow, if everything goes right. I want you to give it a full test and let me know anything it needs to meet your specifications. OK?”
“Yes, sir!” said Escrima. Like half the men in the legion, he loved the chance to play with new toys. Now he was going to get his hands on a brand-new one. It would keep him busy for a while, Phule knew, figuring out ways to get the most out of it. The results would be well worth the effort.
“All right, so I was wrong,” said Lola, not sounding in the least contrite. She turned off the hotel room’s built-in computer screen, which had been displaying Do-It-Yourself Turing Test, by Minsky & Hofstadter Enterprises. “We’ve gone and stolen the damned robot dupe instead of kidnapping Willard Phule. Now what?”