"That's right," the commander said, leaning forward in his chair. "I wanted to talk with you about today's performance in the swamp."
"Don't know about your crew," Charlie said, "but we had us a pretty good day. Got three nice stones. In fact, I've got 'em with me if you'd like to see."
He pulled a small cloth drawstring bag from his pocket and tossed it to Phule. The commander opened the bag and upended it, spilling three small pebbles into his hand.
"Very nice," he said, trying to sound enthusiastic.
In reality, he found the stones to be immensely unimpressive. They were small, the largest being roughly the size of a marble, while the smallest was barely the size of a pea. A dull, mottled brown, they seemed no different from any pebbles one might find in a garden.
"Oh, they might not look like much now," Daniels commented, seeming to read Phule's thoughts, "but they polish up real nice with a little work. This is what they end up lookin' like. "
He held out his hand to display the ring he was wearing. The stone in the ring was larger than those Phule was holding, measuring nearly a full inch long. It was the same brown as the raw stones, but shone with a rich luster, and streaks of dazzling blue and red danced in its depths as Daniels moved his hand, making it look like the product of a successful breeding between tigereye and fire opal.
"Very nice," Phule murmured, and meant it this time. He had never seen anything quite like it before, and for a moment was unable to take his eyes from the play of colors in the ring.
"Thought you might like to see what we've been panning for while your crew stood guard. Course, what keeps the price up is their scarcity. That little stone you're holding will probably sell for enough to pay the bill for your Legionnaires for three months. "
"Really?" The commander was genuinely impressed. He carefully eased the stones back into their bag and returned it to Daniels. "I'll admit I had no idea they were so valuable. Umm... it might be wise not to mention their worth in front of my troops. I mean; I trust them, but..."
"No sense in puttin' needless temptation in their way. Right?" Charlie grinned. "Son, I appreciate the advice, but we already figured that out for ourselves. 'Sides, even if someone was to make off with a few of these beauties, it wouldn't do 'em much good. Everyone around here knows who we are, and any stranger who tried to sell one of these stones would stand out like a gorilla in a beauty contest. They couldn't sell 'em local, and we wouldn't let a ship or a shuttle get cleared for lift-off while there was one missing."
"Good." Phule nodded. "Then there's no problem. Actually, though, what I wanted to talk to you about was the way my crew stood duty today."
Daniels squinted his eyes in thought for a moment, then shook his head and took another sip of his drink.
"Okay. I can't recall 'em being any different today than usual, but then again, I'll admit I wasn't payin' much attention."
"Neither were they," Phule said flatly. "At least, not to anything except their scanners."
"Their scanners?"
"That's right. You know, the ones programmed to alert them if anything dangerous entered the area?"
"I know what you're talkin' about. Fact is, we provided 'em. It's another one of those conditions the insurance folks dreamed up especially for our operation. I'm just not sure why you have a problem with 'em."
Phule surged to his feet and started pacing the room.
"The problem is that they're relying too much on them, from what I can see. If they malfunctioned-or, more important, if anything wandered up that wasn't covered by the programmed data-we'd never notice until someone got bitten, or whatever. "
Daniels's face wrinkled in a scowl.
"Never thought of it, but you've got a point there, son."
"Even more important," the commander continued, "I don't like the idea of my troops being so dependent on machines to do their thinking for them. Now, I use computers all the time myself, but I'll still match the human mind against one every time when it comes to judgment calls."
"So what exactly is it that you propose instead?"
"I want to implement a training course to familiarize every Legionnaire under my command with the dangerous life-forms in the area. Once that's done"-Phule hesitated, then took a deep breath and continued with a rush-"I want to turn the machines off so that the crew are relying on their own observation and judgment to do their job. Realizing that if anything goes wrong the miners will be the ones to suffer, I wanted your approval as the head of the combine that hired us before putting my plan into motion."
"Heck," Daniels said, "I've got no problem with that, though I might have if you hadn't bothered to check with us first. There's not that much dangerous out there, anyway. Like I said, it was more to keep the insurance folks happy than anything else. Fact is, we used to get by without scanners or guards before folks zeroed in on us and started insisting we get civilized. You just go on ahead with your training. I'll take care of lettin' the other miners know what's goin' on."
"Thank you, Charlie." The commander smiled, relieved that his proposal had been accepted so easily. "Now then, as to the potential impact on your insurance rates..."
"Don't worry about that, either," the miner insisted. "Just tell your crew to keep those scanners handy even when they're turned off. Then, if we ever have problems or have to file a claim, we'll see about arranging a 'temporary equipment malfunction' or something. Much as those insurance types like to think up regulations for us, ain't seen one yet actually come out into the swamp to see if we're following instructions."
"I'd rather not start dabbling in insurance fraud," Phule said carefully, "but if instead we-"
The insistent beep of his wrist communicator interrupted him, and he broke off speaking to answer the call.
"Captain Jester speaking."
"Beeker here, sir. Sorry to intrude, but you might want to come down here when you have a moment."
"What's the problem, Beek?"
"Well, there seems to be some difficulty fitting the Sinthians with their new uniforms. Specifically the tailors are arguing with the designer that it can't be done."
Phule grimaced. "All right. I'll be down as soon as I finish here... figure about fifteen minutes. Jester out."
"Which ones are the Sinthians?" Daniels said curiously'.
"Hmm? Oh. Sorry, Charlie, a little distracted there. The Sinthians are... well, you must have seen them on duty. They're the nonhumans with the eyestalks and the spindly arms."
"The little fellahs? Sure, I know 'em. Nice little guys once you get the hang of listenin' to 'em. Tell you what, Captain. Can I talk to that Beeker fellah on your communicator for a second?"
The commander only hesitated a second before agreeing.
"Certainly, Charlie. Just a second here."
He quickly punched Beeker's com number into his wrist communicator.
"Beeker here."
"Beeker, this is Jester again. Charlie has something he'd like to say to you."
He extended his arm to Daniels, pointing at the microphone with his other hand.
"You there, Beeker?" the miner called, unconsciously raising his voice as if trying to cover the distance with volume.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you happen to know if one of the tailors you've got down there is named Giuseppe?"
"I'm not sure, sir. If you'll hold for a moment, I'll-"
"Short little guy. His face looks like a raisin with a moustache."
"Yes, sir. He's here."
"Well, you go over there and tell him that Charlie Daniels says that if he can't manage to fit uniforms on those little aliens--or a bowling ball, or a pile of gelatin, for that matter-well, then, I guess I've been braggin' about the wrong tailor to the commander up here. You tell him that for me."