Phule’s Paradise by Robert Asprin

“Is he still asleep?” she said, glad for the interruption.

“He sure is,” her aide responded, shaking her head. “I swear sometimes I think we’re doing that child a favor. He hasn’t budged since he stretched out.”

Upon arriving, under guard, at Maxine’s suite, Phule’s first request had been to ask if he could “lie down for a few minutes,” and he had been sleeping ever since. Seemingly unruffled by his capture, he appeared to be taking advantage of the situation to get some long-overdue rest.

Laverna caught the eye of one of the guards.

“Your buddy in there wants someone to spell him for a while,” she said. “Says he’s going a little buggy sitting in the dark with nothing to do but watch our friend sleep.”

One of the guards shrugged and started for the bedroom door, but Max waved him off.

“That won’t be necessary,” she countered. “I think our guest has slept long enough. Besides, it’s about time we had a little chat. Laverna, would you wake Mr. Phule up and ask him to join us?”

“No, ma’am.”

The sudden fierceness in her aide’s tone startled Max almost as much as the rare refusal.

“What was that, Laverna?” She blinked, more stalling for time to collect her own thoughts than actually requiring a repetition.

“I said, `No, ma’am,'” Laverna repeated, shaking her head. “I usually stay out of this side of the business and just handle the books, and I know you might have to kill him sooner or later”-she fixed Maxine with a hard gaze-“but I don’t ever want to have to tell Beeker that I had any part in mistreating his gentleman while he was in our care. I say if the man wants to sleep, let him sleep! Otherwise, get someone else to wake him up. I’m not going to do it.”