Bascomb answered before Victor Phule could speak.
"Mr. Phule is here as a witness to the events that were responsible for the situation we're in today. But you should know that I'm fully empowered to act for the Fat Chance Casino Corporation-in fact, this is pretty much a formality. I'm pleased to say that we're ready to give you two million dollars free and clear-cash, check, gold, or Fat Chance Casino chips. We'll hand it over just as soon as you sign a few papers." He gestured toward a sheaf of documents lying on his desk.
"Two million?" said Lola. raising an eyebrow, while frantically signaling to Ernie to keep his mouth shut. "That isn't quite what we came here expecting, Mr. Bascomb. The terms of your prize offer were very explicit. A partner's share..."
"Do you really think so?" said Bascomb, with a predatory grin. "As it happens, two million is a very generous payout. To tell you the truth, I'm not even quite sure what you think you've won. The terms of the jackpot on the thousand-dollar slots were never precisely spelled out..."
"That doesn't matter," said Lola, crisply. "I hate to correct you, Mr. Bascomb, but I have done some research into the Interplanetary Commercial Code as it applies to Lorelei Station. Your local government has managed to get in a number of provisions I'd have to describe as highly unfriendly to consumers, but I can assure you there are still some very explicit penalties for deceptive advertising, especially as applying to prizes offered in the casinos."
"That may well be, young lady," said Bascomb, shaking a finger. "I won't argue the ins and outs of the law with you here. The bottom line is, we've got some damn fine lawyers-damn expensive ones, too-to argue our position. How are you fixed in that department? We can afford to tie you up in court for an awful long time."
Lola stared him down. "And what do you want to bet the other casinos won't be licking their lips when they find out that Fat Chance is trying to renege on your super jackpot? Especially after you've been stealing half their business by offering the best payouts on the station. The publicity value ought to be worth jillions to them. Come to think of it, they might even be willing to contribute to our legal fees..."
Tullie Bascomb frowned. "Are you threatening us?"
Lola laughed, lightly. "Oh, no, Mr. Bascomb. Just reminding you that your casino isn't the only game in town. I think Captain Jester knows that, even if you don't. It's too bad he isn't here to talk to me. I bet he'd be a lot more reasonable..."
Victor Phule gritted his teeth. "If the boy were reasonable, we wouldn't be in this mess at all," he growled. "I swear, the brat hasn't done a sensible thing in years, starting with joining the Space Legion and abandoning the name his parents gave him. You'd think he'd have more respect for his own family..."
"Now, Mr. Phule," said Bascomb softly. "Let's try to keep our focus on the issue at hand..."
"Hey, I don't think he's that far out of line." said Ernie, speaking for the first time since the meeting had begun. "I know what it's like when you don't get any respect from people. Believe me, I know." Victor Phule looked at Ernie and nodded. "Yes, I expect you do," he said. "It's ironic-a fellow builds up something by his own efforts, and all of a sudden everybody around him thinks they know more about it than he does. I've seen it all too often..."
"Hell, that's what happens when you let somebody else try to run your life" said Ernie, sympathetically. "I bet if you and I just sat down together, without any middlemen, we could get this whole problem straightened out in jig time. Come to think of it, why don't we go have a drink and do just that? We'll probably be back with a done deal before these two are finished calling each other names."
Sushi was wearing a set of headphones and carefully adjusting dials on his device when Do-Wop walked in.
"Hey, man, what's up?" said Do-Wop. "We figured out what Qual and his homeboys are talking about yet?"
"Shh," said Sushi, pointing to the device. "I've finally got them pretty well tuned in. And I've learned one thing already. Qual was right-they all speak slightly different versions of their language."
"Huh. Who'd've thunk it?" said Do-Wop, pulling up a chair. "What are they jabberin' about?"
"Mostly technical stuff so far," said Sushi. "Adjusting that machine-the sklern, Qual called it. And in between, joking about something-here, you give a listen." He took off the headphones and reached up to turn on a speaker.
"Ve ought to rotate it two grimbugs upward," said. one Zenobian voice.
"Two and a fifth," came another-this one recognizably Flight Leftenant Qual. "That'll just clear the faffie weed duster."
"Vorking on two and a fifth," answered the first voice.
Then, in a different tone, "Hey, Flort, didja view the Tail-vippers last sundown?"
"Sssst, dey raise a stench in my nostrils," said a third voice-apparently Flort. "Dey haven't had an efficient leaper since Blurg retreated to his domicile."
"Watch it, Zoot," said Qual. "Don't overcrank..."
"Tightly vocussed at two and a fift," said the first voice again. Then Zoot added, "Don't underrate Kloog. Yen he's in the league a little longer been, an exemplary leaper he'll be."
"Kloog is widout grace," growled Flort. "He could take lessons from a gryff."
"This shit don't make no sense," said Do- Wop, drumming his fingers on the table next to the equipment.
"1 think they're talking about some kind of sports team from their home city," said Sushi. "Hard to tell exactly, because the words don't all translate into anything we have an exact equivalent for."
"That's for damn sure," said Do-Wop. "I think Rev's lookin' for a weefle in a viddleworf. If it wasn't such a sweet deal workin' for him instead of pulling regular Legion duty, I'd tell him so myself."
Sushi looked at him with raised eyebrows, then said, "Well, I don't see any percentage in ruining a good scam, either. But you know, even if Rev's ideas never pan out, this whole Zenobian language thing is fascinating. If I could figure out a way to rig translators to deal with it, I bet there's a lot of money to be made. So I'm not just in this to get out of other work. And if you're not just looking for a new way to goof off, it could work out to benefit you, too."
Do-Wop looked doubtful. "I dunno, man. You listen to a bunch of crazy stuff long enough, you could maybe end up crazy yourself."
Over the speaker, Flight Leftenant Qual's voice said, "Now doxen up the regulator for a test projection."
"Gott it, Leftenant," said Zoot. Then, after a pause, "Regulator energetically doxened; ready to project, sir."
Do-Wop waved a hand. "See what I mean? Nothin' but crazy stuff. Maybe it's worth a million, I dunno."
"Kloog seems graceful enough for me," said Zoot over the speaker. "The purpose is not the senses to bedazzle, but to advance the pellet."
"Kloog cannot retain da pellet in his claws long enough to advance it," said Flort. "He raises a continual stench in my nostrils."
"Maintain the doxenization or we will be forced to recommence," said Qual, sternly. "Your sporting chatter can be retained for a more propitious occasion."
"Double vision, Flight Leftenant," said the other two Zenobians, almost in unison.
"Double vision?" said Do-Wop. "I told ya, this is crazy stuff. You keep listenin' to these lizards, you're gonna end up with scales on your ass."
"So should I tell Rev you're tired of working on this project?" said Sushi, with a mischievous expression. "I hear tell Remmie' s asking for volunteers for a heavy construction squad..."
"Uh, hey, Soosh, just kiddin'," said Do-Wop. "Lizard talk is the real deal for me. What did you say you wanted me to do?"