The butler rose politely to greet the company’s first sergeant.
“Good morning, Brandy. Yes, the captain and I were just discussing it, as a matter of fact.”
“Really? What do you think, sir? Not bad for an old girl, huh?”
“It’s … you look good, Brandy,” Phule managed through a strangely tight smile. “You all do.”
“I think so, too.” The sergeant beamed. “I’ll admit I was a little worried at first, displaying this old heap side by side with the newer models”-she jiggled a little to illustrate her point “but the proofs turned out great, so I gave it my go-ahead.”
The butler nodded sagely.
“Oh yes. The extra copies you asked for will be ready this afternoon.” He smiled.
“That’s swell! How much will I owe you for those?”
“Nothing. Consider it to be with my-or more accurately, with the captain’s-compliments. After all, it’s his printer I’m using. “
“Hey, thanks, Captain. Well, got to go … my public awaits. “
Phule finally broke his self-imposed silence.
“Ah … Brandy?”
“Yes, sir?”
He started to speak twice before managing to settle his mind on one question.
“How did you get Mother to go along with this?”
“Go along with it? It was her idea! Well … later!”
The two men watched as she strode off to join one of the huddles, waving merrily at the whistles and catcalls that erupted at her approach.
“It was Mother’s idea … sir,” Beeker repeated blandly.
Phule smiled vacantly at the room.
“Jesus wept!” he said, uttering through clenched teeth the closest thing to a profanity that had passed his lips in years. “Do you realize-“