“Look … Captain, is it? Yes. If you’ll check your manifest, you’ll notice that the cargo that’s been loaded so far is lighter than the weight you were contracted to transport-substantially lighter. My baggage is the balance of that weight. While it’s more than is normally allotted to military personnel, I’ve paid for the extra poundage out of my own pocket, and am therefore understandably reluctant to leave it behind.”
The pilot had indeed noticed that the loaded cargo was light, but had figured it for an oversight, mentally licking his lips over the extra profit from saved fuel. Now he saw that extra profit slipping away.
“Wellll … if you’re sure all that stuff is still within the paid-for poundage. Just don’t expect me to load it for you.”
“Certainly not,” Phule soothed. “Now if you’ll direct the porters, they’ll take care of everything.”
Beeker hefted the two suitcases that contained their necessities for the trip and started up the gangplank.
“I’ll go ahead and start unpacking, sir,” he called back over his shoulder.
“Now, who’s that!?” the pilot snarled.
“That’s Beeker. He’s my butler and traveling companion.”
“You mean he’s coming with us? No way! The Legion hired me to transport one-count it, one-person and you’re it!”
“Not surprising, as Mr. Beeker is not enlisted in the Legion. He’s attached to me personally. “
“Fine. That means he’s not going.”
Phule studied his fingernails.
“Actually, if you care to check the weights, you’ll find that the extra poundage I purchased includes allowance for Beeker. “