“Then odds are your computer is now a time bomb,” the commander finished grimly. “All right, let’s take it from there. What all does your computer control?”
“The whole complex is hooked into it. The hotel … even the theater’s lights for our entertainment specials.”
“Does the casino hook into it for anything?”
“No, I don’t-yes! The computer controls the video slot machines!”
“All of them?” Phule scowled. “Including the ones with the progressive multimillion jackpots?”
The casino owner could only nod.
“That could be disastrous,” the Legionnaire said. “What happens if we pull the plug on them? Just shut down the slots until this whole thing is over?”
Gunther shook his head. “We can’t do that. The slots are one of the biggest draws we have-any casino has-not to mention the most profitable. If we shut off the slots, we can kiss the whole opening goodbye.”
Phule sighed. “Then we’ll just have to get the programs fixed.” And that means … Damn, I hate to do that!”
“Do what?” the casino owner said.
“What? Oh … sorry. It means doing something I really don’t like to do: ask a favor of my father!”
One of the Old Earth authors, Hemingway, I believe, is attributed with the observation “Rich people are just like anyone else … only richer.”
During my association with my employer, I have grown to appreciate the truth of these words more and more. The truly rich are different, in that in times of crisis, they reflexively use money and power on a scale so alien to the average person that they almost seem to be of another species. (It should be noted here that I still consider myself to be an “average person.” Though it has been mentioned that I’m comfortably well of financially, that condition is relatively recent, and I therefore lack the abovementioned reflexes of the truly rich. That mental state requires a lifetime, if not generations, of conditioning.)