Phule Me Twice

"Neither have I," said Sushi. "First time for everything, isn't there?"

"Sushi's right," said Phule. "We've got to accept the situation as we find it. And I think he was about to tell us just what that situation is." He turned to Sushi with an expectant smile.

"OK, like Qual was saying, they thought the hoverjeep and the Port-a-Brain were the intelligent beings, and they've been spending their time trying to communicate with them. If you'd been wearing your translators, you might have been able to make sense of the noise on the jeep's communicator. But once you were out of the jeep, not even that would've helped."

"And so they took us prisoner and tried to negotiate with the jeep," said Phule. "I imagine they didn't get very far with that."

"Well, they kept getting back a signal from the Port-a-Brain's modem trying to download your stock quotes," said Sushi. "They could tell it was intelligent, but they couldn't get any useful response from it. And of course they had no way to know that you guys were really in charge of the machines. They apparently had you in some sort of holding pen, being kept alive and healthy but not really getting much of their attention."

"That's not very flattering, I must say," grumbled Beeker.

"It could've been worse," said Phule. "Remember, for a while we were worried that they might decide to have us for lunch."

"I don't think they're interested in organics, anyway," said Sushi. "They were more likely just to turn you loose in the desert to go fend for yourself."

Beeker scoffed. "Not interested in organics? What do they use for fuel? For lubricants?"

Sushi shrugged, but there was a smile on his face. "We don't know, but it's worth finding out, isn't it? Maybe they could use another supplier..."

Phule sat up straight and clapped his hands. "Now, there's the kind of thinking the Legion can use! There's always an opportunity to make a few dollars, if you just ask the right questions. Sushi, I thank you for starting the ball rolling. We'll definitely want to explore that issue further."

"Think nothing of it, Captain," said Sushi, buffing his fingernails. "In fact, they seem to have played the stock market very successfully. They've got a lot of money to spend, once we can figure out what they're likely customers for. I wonder if a finder's fee might not be in order..."

"You'll be in on the ground floor," said Phule.

"Thanks, Captain, I knew you'd do the right thing," said Sushi. "But for now, let's concentrate on getting this situation untangled. I've set the modem to a kiddie Internet cha

Phule laughed. "What to do? That doesn't seem too difficult to figure out. A nice long shower, a change of clothes, a cool drink, and then I'll settle down to solving whatever problems have come up since I left. Although, now that we've found the Hidden Ones, we've got to get them and the Zenobians talking-figure out what their interests are, what common ground there might be. That's obviously our main priority. I can't imagine anything more important that'd have come up-"

"Captain, you don't know the half of it," said Sushi, shaking his head. "You don't know the half of it."

Major Botchup was not happy about dealing with the press. It wasn't that he saw publicity as a bad thing; indeed, he had a small file of clippings of his own, carefully gathered and organized to show the highlights (such as they were) of his career to date. Nor was he at all averse to standing in front of cameras and answering reporters' questions at length, often at greater length than the reporters were interested in devoting to him. He well understood the power of positive press.

No, what a

"Major, you don't seem to realize what the story is," said Je

"Miss Higgins, I'll remind you that this is a war zone," said Botchup, sweating despite the excellent climate control system Phule had installed in what had become his successor's office. Je

"Of course we understand that, Major," said Je

Botchup found the room getting even warmer; he'd have to check the air-conditioning. But the pretty young reporter-she certainly was pretty-seemed to be making sense, after all. It might be his best chance to get his own name attached to the company's growing reputation, supplanting Jester in public esteem as well as in fact. Jester had played the media the way a trained musician plays a fine synth-organ; now it would be his turn.

Botchup looked into Je

"Tell us about yourself, Major," she said, almost cooing. "What brought you to a military career? How did you end up as commanding officer of this company?"

Major Botchup took a deep breath, and a self-satisfied smile came onto his lips. Now, he would tell the story his way. And, for the first time, people all over the Galaxy would understand what made Elmer Botchup the man he was. A man of some importance, a man worthy of respect. He looked straight at the holocam. "It all began when I was a small boy," he said. "That was when I first realized I had the gift of command..."

The holocam purred quietly, recording every word.

"A new CO," said Phule, shaking his head after Sushi had brought him up to date on the situation back at their base. "That's going to be trouble, all right. And you say there's somebody who's impersonating me, as well?"

"That's right, Captain," said Sushi. "He walked in from the desert one night; Garbo and Brick were on guard, then. They can tell you the story. But the main thing is, he was acting very strange, as if he didn't quite know where he was. They all just thought you'd gotten heat stroke in the desert. Now that I think back on it, though, there were plenty of clues that it wasn't you after all. Who do you think it could be? Do you think Headquarters sent somebody to replace you and play crazy so you could be discredited?"