Phule Me Twice

Carefully choosing his target-the whole company knew better than to try to beat C. H. at his own game-Do-Wop looked at Slammer and said, "Hey, Slammer, I been meaning to ask you-did you get that name because that's where you belong, or because people slam doors in your face?"

"It's because if anybody messes with me, that's what I do to 'em," said Slammer, not taking particular offense.

"That's no problem, nobody wants to mess with you," said Super-Gnat with a grin that suggested she intended more than one meaning. "Besides, I want to hear where Harry thinks we're going and why. What's the word, Sarge?"

"I don't think, Gnat, I know," said Chocolate Harry. "We goin' to Barriere to take on the renegade robots there. They got a big problem with those bots. And the reason they pick us is because they know of C. H. has got the know-how when it comes to fixin' robots. Hell, a man that can customize a hawg the way I have ain't go

"This is the first I heard about any renegade robots," said Sushi, leaning his elbows on the table. "How long's that been going on?"

"Man, you ain't got my inside sources, that's all," said Harry, with a self-congratulatory grin. He took a deep swig of his beer and sighed in satisfaction. "Thing a lot of folks don't realize, the supply lines are what the Legion runs on. Supply don't do its job, you go

"What means SOL?" asked Tusk-anini, squinting behind his dark glasses.

"Somebody's Obviously Loony," said Super-Gnat with a sly grin. Her partner's command of human slang was tenuous at best, and she enjoyed ribbing him about it. From her, at least, he usually took it in good nature. He wasn't without a sense of humor, although it sometimes seemed very strange to his human companions.

"Nah, it means Salad Oil Liberation," said Do-Wop, horning in on the game.

Tusk-anini's squint narrowed into a frown. "I don't think Do-Wop tells me right," he said. "Salad oil is no part of it. Am I right, Gnat?"

"Hey, do you want to hear what's goin' on or not?" said Chocolate Harry, sensing his audience slipping away.

"We don't wa

"Yeah, that's what everybody thinks, " said Harry, taking the cue and launching into a new spiel. "That's what the robot factories want you to think, on account of who's go

"I wouldn't buy nothin' like that," said Slammer, obviously impressed by his sergeant's logic.

"You got it," said Harry. He slapped his palm on the table, sending splashes out of several drinks. "Thing is, nobody wants their robots to have a mind of their own, 'cause if the bots figure out that us humans have everything and they got nothin', what's to stop 'em from taking over?"

"I no human," said Tusk-anini, irrefutably. "I no scared of robots, either."

"That's 'cause you ain't run across these-here renegades," said the supply sergeant. "They'll just naturally wipe out any kind of sophont. You think it matters to them how many legs or eyes you got on you? It's the last thing they care about."

"You sure this is the straight story from the brass?" asked Do-Wop. Almost automatically, not even watching, he slowly peeled the label off his beer bottle with his thumbnail.

"Pure gospel, man," said Harry, holding up a palm as if taking an oath. "Rev himself ain't ever said a word as true as this stuff I'm lettin' you in on."

Some of the listeners-mostly new members of the company unfamiliar with the supply sergeant's ways-nodded and murmured words of approval. They'd been in the Legion a while, but they still had a tendency to believe everything they heard from a veteran, especially from a fast talker like Chocolate Harry. This made them welcome additions to the supply sergeant's poker games and easy marks for his long string of scams.

But Sushi was a veteran and a first-class scammer in his own right. "It's a triff story," he said, gri

"You oughta know me better than that, Soosh," said Harry, managing a hurt expression. "I'd never try to sell something like that. Why, a robot's mechanical. You can't run it off like you would some kinda bug."

"That's true," said Do-Wop. "The robots I've seen, they just don't let anything bother them. Sorta like Mahatma when he gets wrapped up in something. There's no stopping him."

"That's right," said Harry. "That's why something like a repellent won't work. But there is one thing-"

"Here it comes!" said Sushi, and everyone chuckled. Even Tusk-anini leaned forward in anticipation of Chocolate Harry's spiel.

Harry continued as if he hadn't heard Sushi's stage whisper. "The thing is, robots can only see in certain frequencies. So if you're wearing certain colors-stuff in the purple end of the spectrum, for example-they just naturally can't see you, and you can sneak right up on 'em. And it just so happens I've got in a supply of robot-proof camouflage..." He waved toward a large crate, marked Phule-Proof Camo.

"Which you'll make available, at a price, to anyone who wants a little insurance," prompted Super-Gnat.

"Why, sure," said Harry, his face devoid of all guile. "I'd purely hate to see anybody get hurt if we ended up in a bad robot situation and they weren't prepared, y'know? So who wants some?"

"I think I'll pass," said Do-Wop. "But somehow, I don't think you'll have any shortage of takers, Sarge."

"Sushi, I sure hope you're right," said the supply sergeant. "In my job, you've got to think ahead, and I'm just glad I thought of this particular possibility before it turned into a real problem."

"Harry, you're a pure genius," said Sushi, shaking his head with admiration. "I bet we'll see half the squad wearing purple before we leave Landoor."

"I hope it's more than that," said Chocolate Harry. "Why, I'll hardly rest until I know we're all safe from the robots."

"Harry, somehow I know we will be," said Sushi. He nodded in the direction of Stammer, who was already wearing a purple field vest over his fatigues. Stammer, noticing the attention, lifted his chin and favored his comrades with a satisfied smirk. "Yes indeed, Harry," said Sushi, "somehow, I know you'll be able to rest very comfortably."

Harry's broad grin left no doubt of that.