“Well, sir,” he said, “I think I’ll take my cue from the lovely lady here. Why don’t you just call me `Trooper’?”
“Consider it done,” Phule said. “Pass the word on that as well, and be sure to give everyone my personal thanks.”
“Thank you, sir!”
The youth drew himself up and gave a snappy salute.
“Thank you, Trooper,” the commander corrected with a smile, returning the salute.
“That was nice, Captain,” the actress said after the youth had departed. “Would it be a horrible imposition to ask if I could give you a kiss before you left?”
“Tiffany,” Phule said with mock solemnity, “it would be a pleasure.”
The phone rang on the bedside table.
“Damn!” the actress snarled, then caught herself and smiled again. “Don’t go away, Captain. I’m going to hold you to that kiss.”
“I’ll be right here,” the commander promised.
The phone rang again, and the actress reached for it.
“Hello? … Who? … Oh … No, I’m fine, thank you. It’s nice of you to ask.”
Catching Phule’s eye, she covered the phone’s mouthpiece with one hand while silently mouthing a name.
Maxine Pruet.
The commander’s face hardened, and he held out his hand for the phone.
“Mrs. Pruet?” he said. “Captain Jester here.”
“Good evening, Captain.” Max’s voice came after only the slightest pause. “I was going to call you next, but I should have known you would be there.”
“Yes … Well, I just wanted to tell you that while we appreciate the gesture of your offering to cover the medical costs, they’re being paid by the Space Legion. We take care of our own.”