Robert Asprin
No Phule Like an Old Phule
Prologue.
General Blitzkrieg was just lining up a tricky four-meter putt when a buzzer sounded on his desk. He flinched, at the noise, and the ball jerked to the right missing the target by a good half meter. "Damn it all to hell, what is it now?" he snarled, stomping over to the desk and. pressing a button.
"Colonel Battleax to see you, sir," came the voice of" Major Sparrowhawk, his adjutant. "Shall I send her in?", Blitzkrieg stifled another-curse, and nodded. Then, realizing that Sparrowhawk couldn't see him, he "said" "Sure, sure; send her in." He quickly stashed his custom-made ultracarbon putter behind the desk and turned to stand with the window behind him. The view of "the North. Rahsome Mountains behind the old city wasn't anything to get ecstatic over, but he was pleased at the 'thought' of having his back turned to Battleax when she entered the- office-a subtle slight, but nothing she could take overt offense at. If heed been able to contrive a way to make her cool her heels in the outer office for fifteen or twenty minutes; he'd have enjoyed it even more-but that would have required some advance planning. Might as well just get the unpleasant confrontation over with. He didn't know what the colonel was here for, but it was bound to be unpleasant.
He heard the door slide open, but he resisted the impulse to turn; let the old harpy wait until he was good and ready. He let a thin smile cross his face as he heard the colonel come into the. office. "I think you've forgotten something, General, "came a voice from behind him.
Blitzkrieg turned, just in time to see Colonel Battleax toss him the golf ball he'd left sitting in the middle of his office floor. Caught off guard, he snatched at it clumsily, and stifled another curse as it bounced off his chest, then ricocheted off his toe to roll under the desk. He determinedly ignored it. "What brings you here today, Colonel?" he asked, doing his best not to show his annoyance at her.
"I've got the latest" intelligence reports on the Zenobian situation," she said. "You'll be glad to know..."
"I won't be glad unless you're going to tell me those blasted overgrown lizards have eaten Captain Jester;" said the general, losing his composure after all. "That's the planet he's on, and the less I hear about it, the less I'll have to ruin my appetite."
"I doubt there's much that could do that," said Battleax;" eyeing his ample midsection. "Anyhow, you need to know this, whether you like it or not. The second race that Jester found on Zenobia-the Nanoids-claim to be indigenous to the planet."
"Very interesting, I'm sure," said Blitzkrieg. He poked his toe under the desk, experimentally, hoping he could kick out the golf ball without bending over to look for it. No such luck.
"More interesting than you may realize, General," said Battleax, smugly. "We have two technologically advanced, races inhabiting one planet--and both are apparently legitimately native to that world. Now, as you. may recall, Captain Jester's company was, called there because the Zenobians had detected the Nanoids conducting surveillance of their major cities. This suggests that the Nanoids may be looking to expand their territory-and you can surely guess what that would lead to."
"Civil war," said Blitzkrieg, waving a hand dismissively. "Not our problem, as long as the conflict doesn't break out into Alliance space. We keep. a strict hands-off policy, and provide sophontitariail aid where appropriate.
They covered that in second year MilSci at the-academy or did you miss that lecture?"
"No, General," said Battleax, smiling. "Did you miss the fact that the Zenobians signed a mutual defense treaty with the Alliance just over a year ago, and that we're now making diplomatic overtures to the Nanoids, to get a treaty with them? That planet already is Alliance space, and if we're not careful, we're going to be deeply entangled with both sides in the conflict. And the only combat-ready Alliance military unit in the entire system is one Legion company."
Blitzkrieg's eyes lit up. "Yessss!" he hissed.
"No," said Battleax, shaking her head. "we can't just leave them in the line of fire."
"Of course we can. It's the Legion way," said Blitzkrieg, a feral grin on his face.
"Maybe I did miss a lecture at the academy, after all," said Battleax, coldly. "Or is that one of the lessons reserved for the old boy network?"
"Nothing more than learning to look at the big picture," said Blitzkrieg. A superior smirk came to his face. "If you're ever going to get stars on your shoulders, that's the kind of choice you have to be ready to make, Colonel.
They don't play this game in short pants you know."
"I'll take your word for that," said Battleax. She leaned forward and picked up the golf ball, which had rolled out of the far side of the desk and come to rest at her feet. She handed it to the general, and said, "But if Phule's company is going to be in the middle of a civil War. I'm going to make sure they know in advance just what kind of game they're -in-and what kind of pants their superior officers are wearing. In your case.. ." She paused and looked Blitzkrieg up and down. "No, it's too easy. I won't" say it"
She saluted, then turned and walked out of the office with a mischievous grin." Blitzkrieg, spent the rest of the day trying to figure "out just What she'd meant by it.
1
Journal #633
After his success in the Zenobian affair, my employer had naturally assumed that his Legion career was back on track. He had scored not only a diplomatic but a scientific, coup in discovering a new alien race, the Nanoids. He had managed to discredit the new commander sent by headquarters to take over his unit. And he had successfully cemented trade relations with our hosts, the Zenobians.
Little did he realize that there were machinations under way in several distant worlds, all of which were destined to; intrude on his peace of mind.
The yellowing poster in the dirty store window hung crookedly between two nondescript advertising signs, and its once-bright colors had long since faded to shades of off-white. But Zigger found it beautiful, nonetheless. He had been admiring its picture of a heroic figure in, a black jumpsuit ever since his father had brought him down this street and he had seen the store. To a small Lepoid from a second-rate factory town on the planet Teloon, it was the stuff of his dreams. He hadn't been able to read the words the first time he saw it, but he'd gotten his father to read them to him: "Join the Space Legion and See the Galaxy!" Zigger hadn't known what a galaxy was back then. But he knew magic when he saw it. It made his nose twitch and his ears snap to attention, and as far as he was concerned, whatever the poster was selling had to be the real thing.
And every time he came down that street-even when he was running errands for his mom, or late for school-he'd stop for a brief moment in front of the store and gaze upon the poster with loving eyes.
It was something of a letdown when Zigger realized what kind of merchandise the store sold. The store (its name was Spotty's) sold nothing at all heroic or magical just stupid ordinary things like fur restorer, groot repellant, stupid entertainment capsules, and a selection of print zines. The Space Legion recruiter had come by one day and put the poster in the window, one of many crowded into the space. Several years later, it was still there. But not even that could detract from the allure. Zigger had already made up his mind that he was going to join the Space Legion-and everything else was second to that.