Phules Paradise

"Just a moment!" Maxine said, rising to her feet. "Did you say that you prepared the food? And how did you know ..."

Her eyes darted to the door to the corridor.

"For that matter," she said, "isn't there supposed to be a guard outside that door? Would somebody please check to see ..."

A shrill noise interrupted her.

All eyes turned toward Beeker, as the butler glanced at his wrist communicator, from which the sound was emanating.

"I'm afraid it's too late for that," he said calmly, carefully hitching up his trouser legs before sitting abruptly on the floor. "In fact, I would strongly suggest that no one in the room have any portion of their persons above the height of waist level when the sound stops. If you'd, care to join me, sir?"

Without hesitation, Phule slid off his chair to lie beside the waiter, who was already squatting next to the service cart.

"What in the world ...?"

"The man's saying get down, Max!" Laverna cried, throwing herself to the floor.

"Oh, very well," Maxine grumbled, lowering herself gingerly.

The guards lost no time diving to the carpet as the room seemed to explode.

BA-AM-BAM-BAM AM-BAM-BAM-AM-AM

Salesmen for Phule-Proof Munitions claimed, with some justification, that merely the sound of one of their Rolling Thunder belt-fed shotguns was sufficient to intimidate most opponents. However, few, if any, attempted to convey, or even consider, the effect of four of these same weapons being fired simultaneously in a close space.

AM-BAM-AM-AM-BAM-AM-BAM

Large chunks were being blasted from the wall separating the living room from the corridor outside. Through the holes, if anyone dared to raise their head to look, could be seen Tusk-anini, Moustache, Brandy, and Chocolate Harry standing abreast as they swept their murderous weapons across the wall.

BAM-BAM-AM-BAM-AM-AM

Not content with the holes, the quartet continued to fire, opening a long, ragged slot in the wall. Within the room, pictures fell and lamps exploded as more and more of the blast-driven shot poured in unhindered by the rapidly disintegrating wall. In the teeth of the carnage, Super Gnat and the Sinthian, Louie, the two smallest Legio

AM-BAM-BAM-AM-AM-BAM!!

The firing ceased abruptly, but before the echoes had fully died, a row of Legio

"Nobody move!"

Rembrandt's voice cracked slightly, and seemed pitifully weak in the wake of the senses-shattering din, but no one chose to challenge her.

Ironically, considering the gaping hole in the wall, someone had to open the door from the inside to let the troops in.

As some disarmed the shaken criminals, including relieving Maxine of her sleeve pistol, others opened the drapes and waved at the crowd below.

"We got him! He's okay!" they called, and a faint cheer answered them from below.

Maxine tipped some debris off one of the chairs, then sat down on it, resting her arms on the table as a host of Legio

"Well, Captain," she said, "it looks like I underestimated you again."

"Actually I believe you underestimated my troops," Phule corrected, winking at the Legio

"Of course," Max said, sending a dark look toward the butler. "I certainly shan't forget his role in this. Well, I'll know better next time."

"Next time?" The Legio

"Nonsense, Captain," Maxine said, favoring him with a superior smirk. "Do you think it's accidental that I've never been arrested? Laverna! Please fetch me some paper and a pen."

"Do you really think you can just walk away from this?" Phule said, shaking his head in disbelief. "There's no one you can write to with enough authority to keep you from going to jail."

"And just what would that accomplish, Mr. Phule?" Max said, accepting the pen and paper from Laverna and begi

"Me?"

"Certainly. If you should choose not to press charges or bring my activities to the attention of the authorities or the media, I shall be free to continue my operation as normal."

"You expect me to turn a blind eye to what you've tried to do? Just because you're more civilized than most about ru

"No, Captain. I expect you to seriously consider a proposition of mutual advantage to both of us-a bribe, if you will. First, however, let me remind you that your stated objective was not to put me out of business, but rather to stop me from attempting to gain control of the Fat Chance. I'm prepared to offer that in exchange for my freedom."

"That's a surprisingly weak offer, coming from you, Mrs. Pruet," Phule said stiffly. "In exchange for my letting you go, you're proposing to give me a promise in writing that you won't try to gain control of the Fat Chance-something you haven't been able to do so far and would find doubly difficult to attempt from jail?"

"Don't be crass, Mr. Phule," Maxine said, signing the paper in front of her with a flourish and setting the pen aside. "What I have here is a document assigning Mr. Rafael's loan agreement with me over to you, or more specifically, your Space Legion company. That will negate my interest, not to mention my primary weapon, in taking over this facility. Allow me to walk away from this, and you can renegotiate more favorable payment terms for Mr. Rafael, accept the scheduled payment, or eliminate the debt completely."

She picked up the paper and extended it toward the commander.

"Well, Captain?" She smiled. "What do you say? Do we have a deal?"

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Journal #250

Maxine Pruet's capitulation effectively ended the challenging portion of this assignment. All that remained was the cleaning up of a few details, and, of course, normal guard duty.

Anyone who believes that a cease-fire, surrender, or treaty automatically means the end of hostilities, however, lacks even the shallowest awareness of military history ... or even a general history of mankind ...

The meeting in Phule's suite was originally intended as an informal debriefing with his officers. Colonel Battleax came calling, however, with a large bottle of excellent brandy, and the gathering soon took on a more relaxed, social atmosphere.

"One thing I'll grant you, Captain Jester," the colonel said as she raised her glass, the most recent of several, in a mock toast. "Things are certainly never dull around you."

"Hear, hear!" Lieutenant Rembrandt agreed, raising her own glass. She was finally starting to relax from her brief stint as acting company commander, and the combination of the brandy and relief was making her a little owlish.