"So here's what they're building," said Phule. Once he knew exactly what to look for, it had been a simple matter to drop a few handfuls of tiny robot cameras in the proper vicinity. Government counter-bots had hunted them down and eliminated them, but not before they'd returned enough holointelligence to give Phule a clear picture of the government's gigantic roller coaster.
"It is quite a surprise, sir," said Beeker, looking over his employer's shoulder. "A rather quixotic undertaking, if you want my opinion."
"But brilliant, in its way," said Phule, leaning back in his chair. "If anything could attract enough money from off-world to revitalize this planet, a theme park is exactly the ticket. Why, it must be the biggest thing of its kind I've ever seen."
"You would be a better judge of that than I, sir," said Beeker. The butler was obviously not as impressed as his employer. "It strikes me as imprudent in the extreme to invest all their capital in this single project. And as you discovered, they are not interested in off-world investors."
"Well, at least not if the investor is me," said Phule. "It's too bad-the one lesson they've learned from their history is not to let off-world money control their economy. As a result, they've put all their eggs in one very precarious basket."
"The time-tested road to ruin," said Beeker, solemnly. "If this project fails..." He let the sentence trail off.
Phule finished it for him, "If it fails, they're wiped out." He leaned forward and pointed to the pictures. "The devil of it is, this isn't at all a bad idea, in and of itself. It's almost enough to do the job they want it to do. Almost..." A dreamy look came over his face.
Beeker recognized what Phule's expression meant. "Sir, if you are looking for a way to throw away money, you would be better advised to return to Lorelei and bet against the house in one of Maxine Pruett's casinos. It would be considerably slower and less frustrating than what I fear you are contemplating."
Phule chuckled. "You know my mind, don't you, Beeker? But listen to this: The only thing really wrong with what the government is doing is that they're relying on the park to restart their economy. And nobody else on the planet has either the capital or know-how to make it succeed."
"Nobody except you," said Beeker, straight-faced.
"Nobody except me," Phule agreed. His smile was the epitome of self-satisfaction.
"You were sent here to keep the locals from killing one another, not to ruin yourself trying to bail out their economy."
"Well, they aren't trying to kill each other, so I must be doing something right," said Phule.
"They haven't been trying to kill one another since the war ended," Beeker pointed out. "On the other hand, someone definitely tried to kill you."
"That's not proven," said Phule. "The government wants me to think the rebels did it, in hopes that I'll send out my people to suppress the rebels for them. In fact, I wouldn't put it past Colonel Mays to send one of his own men to fire off a couple of shots in my direction."
"Of course, that does not mean the rebels wish you no harm," said Beeker. "They evidently have learned of your responsibility for the strafing incident."
"Yes, well, I suppose I was going to have to confront that part of my past sooner or later," said Phule. "Nobody was really hurt, you know...I guess it'd be better to tackle it head-on than to keep dodging it...Say, that's not a bad idea, come to think of it. I wonder where the rebel headquarters is?"
Beeker's jaw dropped. "Sir! It was bad enough when you contemplated throwing away your money, but I really must advise against throwing away your life as well."
"Don't be such a nanny, Beeker," said Phule. He was on his feet and pacing, a sure sign that his mind was racing at top speed. "We're not here to work for the current government, whatever they want to think. My orders are to help all the people, and that certainly includes the rebels, if they want to take advantage of my generosity."
"So you mean to offer them the opportunity to put a noose around your neck," said Beeker. "Sir, you cannot expect me to stand aside and allow you to do this."
"No, of course not," said Phule. "I was planning on taking you along when I go to meet them. You and the chaplain, I think."
"What?" Beeker's eyes went wide. "What good can the chaplain possibly do?"
Phule spread his hands. "Why, he's a man of peace-what better symbol of my peaceful intentions? And you're obviously a noncombatant-no kind of threat. Unless everything we know about them is wrong, neither of you will be in the least danger. And you'll serve as insurance for me-even if they have a grudge against me, I don't think they'll act too hastily if there are innocent witnesses."
"Very well, sir. You have obviously made up your mind," said Beeker, rising from his chair. "I suppose I had best prepare for the journey. When do you intend to leave? And will you at least inform your officers of your intentions? Perhaps they can offer some competent military advice."
Phule shook his head. "Their advice would be to take along a squad of armed legionnaires, and that would be exactly the wrong thing to do. This needs to be a secret mission. I've found a young civilian who's got a cousin in the rebel camp, and he claims to know the way. And unless we want to lose valuable time, we should leave as quickly as possible."
"As you wish, sir," said Beeker. "I only hope you have some idea what you are doing."
"Of course I do," said Phule brightly. "I'm going to save the entire planet. Isn't that what we're here for?"
Journal #406
Our departure from Lorelei had left behind an unstable situation, and potentially a very dangerous one. My employer's confidence in the android double he had programmed to impersonate himself seemed to me excessive. Eventually, the local gangsters were bound to see through the deception. What would happen then was anyone's guess.
Maxine Pruett glared at the holoscreen. "That conniving son of a bitch!" she shouted. The scene had only been in view for a moment, but she knew that face almost as well as the picture on a dollar bill. In all the years she'd been running the Syndicate on Lorelei, he was the one person who'd thwarted her. Captain Jester, AKA Willard Phule, the munitions heir.
There he was on some planet a quarter of the way across the galaxy. She hadn't caught exactly what it was he was doing. In fact, she'd only had the news on out of a sense of guilt. Laverna had been her eyes and ears on the outside world, the one who kept her apprised of things that might affect her while she paid attention to running the business and enjoying the fruits of her hard-won (albeit ill-gotten) gains. Now Laverna had run away from her, and she had nobody to monitor outside events for her. Phule was responsible for that, too.
What she couldn't figure out was how he'd managed to get off-station without her knowing it. Her snoops had reported seeing him in the Fat Chance nearly every day, and there were plenty of uniformed legionnaires on guard-so what did it mean that he and his company were on Landoro, or whatever that place was in the news story? The answer must be that one of the Phules was a double. It made sense-there'd been times she'd had the "same" act booked in two or three of her casinos at once, with the star making token appearances in each show, and using doubles to make it appear he was onstage more than he really was. Phule must be running a hustle like that...
So how was she going to take advantage of her discovery? There was no question that she was going to take advantage of it-you get an edge, you take it. That was how the game was played. It would be sweet revenge to finally take the Fat Chance away from him after all he'd done to balk her.