Phule’s Paradise by Robert Asprin

“Okay. What have you got?”

The Voltron raised the small stack of paper he was holding into view.

“You ask me … look at records for casino employees? See where they hired from?”

“That’s right.”

Tusk-anini was a closet insomniac and a rabid reader, and Phule had utilized this by making him into a company clerk, reviewing the massive paperwork necessary to run a company and interface with Headquarters. More recently, as part of the plan to infiltrate the casino with undercover Legionnaires, the commander had asked the Voltron to go through the employment records of the existing casino employees, making a list of the various employment agencies they had been hired through. With that information, it would be a relatively easy matter to engineer a computerized break-in, sneaking carefully prepared resumes and references into the appropriate files.

“You look at this, Captain,” the Voltron said, passing the stack to Phule. “All these hired from same service. Golden Employment Agency.”

“All right,” the commander said, idly leafing through the sheets. He had every confidence in Tusk-anini and if the Voltron said they were all from the same source, he was sure they would be. “So what’s the problem?”

“It not exist. No such agency.”

Phule sat bolt upright as if someone had just plugged in his chair.

“Are you sure?” he said, staring at the pages as if they would talk to him themselves.

“Yes, Captain. Otherwise not bother you. Check many times. No such agency … ever.”

“I don’t get it, sir.” Rembrandt frowned. “How could so many employees use the same fake reference?”