Phule’s Company by Robert Asprin

“No problem, son. What all’s going on down in the ballroom, anyway, that’s got everyone so het up?”

“The new uniforms for the company arrived today. They’re a good crew, but right now they’re acting like a bunch of kids squabbling over who gets to play with a new toy. Everyone wants to be the first to be fitted so they can show off their new outfits. “

Daniels nodded sagely.

“Is that it? There were a bunch of ‘em running around the lobby when I came in. Gotta admit, though, the uniforms they were wearing sure didn’t look like any government issue I’ve ever seen.”

He shot a sly, sidelong glance at Phule as he took a sip of his drink.

“Well, they aren’t exactly standard uniforms,” the commander admitted uncomfortably. “I had them designed especially for us-a full wardrobe, actually: field uniforms, dress uniforms, the works. You might know the designer. He’s a local here … name of Olie VerDank. “

“Olie? You mean Helga’s boy?”

“I … I guess so,” Phule said. “He’s the only designer in the settlement I know of with that name.”

“Good.” Daniels nodded. “He’s a talented fellah and could use the work-and the exposure. I’ll tell you, I always thought men who designed clothes were a little … well, you know … until I met Olie. Shoulders like an ox, that one. Got a pretty little gal he married, too. He’s got a bit of a temper, though, and don’t much like to be told what to design. I’m a little surprised you got him to work for you.”

“I offered to match the profits of his fall line.” The commander shrugged, looking into his own drink as he stirred it with a finger. “After that he didn’t seem too inclined to argue.”