"That's right, Taep," said a guard, and another chimed in with, "Yeah, what's he done?"
Le Duc Taep pointed at Phule. "This is the man who ordered the scurrilous attack on the peace conference, further humiliating us at the moment of our capitulation!"
"Oh, yeah, I heard about that," said Buster. "You and the other brass got your pants singed pretty good, didn't you?" He turned to Phule. "He tellin' the truth?"
"Well..." Phule began, "I think I should point out that nobody was killed..."
Rev put his hand on Phule's shoulder. "Y'know, there's more to this situation than meets the eyeball."
"What say?" said Buster, frowning. "Seems to me, either he done it or he didn't."
"He did do it," said Le Duc Taep, his confidence returning. "Otherwise, he'd simply deny it."
"You got a good point there," said Buster. "But let me hear this other bird's point he's tryin' to make."
"Why, thank ye, sonny," said Rev. "What I'd like to say here is, a fellow can be different things, and what he used to be ain't necessarily as important as what he is. You go holdin' the past against him, you might be missin' a glorious opportunity right now."
"You still talkin' over my head," said Buster, scratching his jaw again. "Taep, you got any idea what he's sayin'?"
"What he's saying is that whatever I did or didn't do back during the peace conference-and I really don't think we have to rake over those coals again-I can make up for it now," said Phule. "My orders are to bring peace to this world-they don't say one word about who governs it. It might as well be you as the other fellow. So I'm going to help you win."
"That's big talk," said Buster, solemnly. "Win the war for us just like that? I gotta hear this."
"If you're going to try to buy forgiveness..." Le Duc Taep began.
"Yes, of course, what else?" said Phule. He reached down and opened up his belt pouch. He pulled out a handful of banknotes in large denominations. "I know money can't buy everything, but that's no reason to turn up your nose at it. Let's put the proposition in a nutshell. You can win your revolution, and I'm going to show you how to do it. Are you game?"
Le Duc Taep looked at the money, then looked back at Phule. "And what's to stop us from taking your money and our revenge both at the same time?"
Phule shrugged. "Oh, money's not hard to get, if you have the knack. You could raise this much yourself in a few days, if you put your mind to it. Of course, this is a drop in the bucket, compared to what you'd need. And I'm willing to back you to the limit."
"You'll buy us all the weapons we need to win the war?" said Le Duc Taep, obviously impressed.
"Oh, you won't need weapons," said Phule. "I'd hardly waste my money on that. What I'm going to do is show you how to win without firing a shot. Here's what you're going to need..."
As Phule outlined his plan, the rebel leader began to nod his head. Le Duc Taep and Buster-evidently a very senior officer in the guerilla band-interrupted from time to time with questions. Soon Phule had laid out a sheet of paper on the folding table and started making sketches. The afternoon wore on...
"Yo, Remmie, you gotta let us in on this rescue operation," said Do-Wop.
Lieutenant Rembrandt looked up from her drawing pad at Do-Wop and Sushi. Even now, with command of the entire company thrust upon her, she made herself take a few minutes to keep her eyes sharp. It gave her a way to sidestep the worry about what kind of trouble the captain had gotten into, this time. "No," she said.
"Whattaya mean?" said Do-Wop. "We got a right to volunteer, don't we?"
"Sure, you've got a right to volunteer," said Rembrandt, putting aside the drawing pad. "But I've got to choose a team I think will do the job without getting anybody killed-and I mean the captain, in particular. You two don't fit the mission specs, this time."
"Why not?" said Do-Wop. "We're as slick as you've got-even the captain knows that. Besides, we owe him-nobody else ever cut us half the breaks the captain has."
"Well, I'm glad you appreciate that," said Rembrandt. "I know you two are slick-God, are you ever stick-but you're not jungle scouts, and that's what we need this time."
Do-Wop snickered. "I ain't worried about the jungle. You drop me down anywhere on this planet, I'll be the baddest thing for a hundred kilometers."
Rembrandt shook her head. "The answer is no. There'll be plenty of other missions..."
"Not if these guys don't rescue the captain," said Sushi. "What are they going to do, anyway? Rush in and start shooting? Or maybe something smart, like trying to persuade the rebels to let him go? That's about the only way I can think of to make sure the captain doesn't get hurt. You'll admit we're the only ones who could do that. We can sell sneakers to snakes, if you give us the chance."
"What's a snake?-oh, never mind, I get the idea," said Lieutenant Rembrandt. She stood up and planted a finger in the center of Sushi's chest. "Maybe you can, but that's not the point. This team's going out in the jungle. They'd spend so much time bailing you two out of trouble they'd never get around to rescuing the captain."
Sushi didn't budge. "They're still going to need somebody like us at the other end," he said. "What about this-the jungle scouts find the captain, then you send us in to negotiate? Once we know our goal, you can send us by hovercar, if you want. That way you don't have to worry about all the jungle thingies getting us."
"I ain't scared of no jungle thingies," Do-Wop reiterated.
"I'm sure you're not, which is another good reason you're not going to be a jungle scout," said Rembrandt. Do-Wop opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand and continued, "Sushi's idea has some merit, I have to admit. But I'm not going to give a thumbs-up until I know where the captain's being held. Until then I don't even know whether he needs rescuing, let alone what the best plan will be. Maybe it's sending you in to bamboozle the rebels or going in with force or something else we haven't thought of yet. The one thing I do know is that you're not going out in the jungle. Get used to it."
"Well, Lieutenant, I think you're being too cautious," said Sushi. "But if you promise you'll keep my plan in mind, we'll let you get back to work. And thanks for listening."
"I won't forget your plan," said Rembrandt. "No other promises, though. Now, aren't you two supposed to be on duty someplace?"
"Uh, like Soosh said, we'll let you get back to work," said Do-Wop, and the two legionnaires, beat a hasty retreat. Rembrandt sighed and reached for her sketchpad again. Sushi had given her a potentially useful idea. She'd have to think about a way to make it work...
"Lieutenant, got to talk," came a familiar voice. "Rebels holding captain prisoner. Got to be on team rescuing him."
Rembrandt sighed. "Tusk-anini, I don't remember anything in your file about you coming from a jungle world," she said. She began to suspect that she was going to have a lot of discussions like the one just concluded in the time before the jungle team set out.
Eventually, Armstrong and Rembrandt cobbled together a two-stage mission for rescuing Phule. First Qual and the Gambolts would use their skills to find the rebel camp at which Phule was presumably being held prisoner, and report its location to base. If Quals report convinced the officers that Phule actually needed rescuing, a fighting force of volunteers would go in to do the job.
After dark, a hoverjeep swooped low over the waves and put Qual's team ashore on the mainland in the area in which the rebel camp was rumored to be located. The Zenobian and the three Gambolts melted into invisibility almost before they had reached the dark line of brush a few dozen yards above the high-tide mark on the sand. As soon as they were out of sight, the hoverjeep turned back to the island, and the Legion base.