Phule Me Twice by Robert Asprin, Peter J. Heck Page A
Authors: Robert Asprin, Peter J. Heck
Tags: Fiction, General, Science-Fiction, Fantasy fiction, SF, Space Opera, Life on other planets, Robots, Phule's Company (Fictitious characters), Phule; Willard (Fictitious character)
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alien invasion," said the ambassador, spreading his hands.
"I see," said Phule, leaning his elbow on his desk. "Who are the invaders, sir:"
"I wish I had a good answer to that, and I'm afraid I don't," said Gottesman. "The Zenobians are being closemouthed about it." He paused and took a sip of his tea, then looked Phule straight in the eye. "I have the distinct impression they're...well, embarrassed might be the best description of how they're acting."
"Embarrassed?" Phule leaned his other elbow on the desk. Now he was frowning. "Can you be more precise? Are they embarrassed because they can't repel the invaders or because they need help or what?"
The ambassador shrugged. "I don't really know. In fact, it's just my interpretation of how they act. And you must know how hard it can be to read a nonhuman sophont's emotions." He set down the teacup with a wry smile and spread his hands. "I have enough trouble with my teenage daughters, half the time."
"I can imagine," said Phule, thinking that even parenting teenage girls might be easier than commanding the motley outfit he'd been put in charge of. "But this puts my people at a serious disadvantage, going into a possible combat situation without reliable intelligence. If we don' know what we're up against-"
"I understand, Captain," said the ambassador. He stood up and put his hand on Phule's shoulder. "We at State have our intelligence branch working overtime on it, believe me. We don't want to send anybody into a booby trap. The minute we get something useful, you'll get it from us. You have my word on that. Until then, just try to be ready for anything-anything at all."
Phule nodded. "I guess we'll have to be ready, then," he said. He stood up and shook Gottesman's hand. Then he added, "That's what we're supposed to do anyhow, isn't it?"
"I have complete confidence in you and your people. Captain," said the ambassador. Then he added darkly, "I wish I had the same confidence in your superiors." He allowed himself a thin smile and left the office.
Beeker, who had sat silently listening to the entire interview, watched the ambassador leave, then said, "Are you quite certain you want to stick your head into this particular noose, sir?"
Phule turned to look at his butler. "Is that how you read it, Beeker?" He placed high value on Beeker's opinions and advice-not that he always allowed them to influence his decisions. If he had, he'd never have joined the Space Legion. But when the butler smelled trouble, it was worth listening to him.
Beeker steepled his fingers. "Consider the evidence, sir. The Zenobians have asked for help against some sort of external threat that they cannot defeat with their own resources. Yet the Zenobians are remarkably competent warriors, both in their basic physical abilities and in their technological accomplishments. What kind of help is a single Legion company going to be able to provide?"
"Well, as much as we can, of course," said Phule. "I suspect most of our role will be in training and in tactical and strategic consultation. After all, we're being brought in as advisors, not to engage the enemy directly."
Beeker's face grew solemn. "Sir, I hope you have not entered into negotiations to purchase any bridges from the Zenobians."
Phule laughed. "I leave that to State, Beeker," he said. "With Ambassador Gottesman on our side, I'm not really worried about any surprises."
"You should be," scolded Beeker. "Ambassador Gottesman has done a great deal for us when it was to his advantage to do so. Now it is to his advantage to send us to Zenobia, but I have no idea whether it is to our advantage to go there. The Black Hills undoubtedly looked like a plum assignment to George Armstrong Custer."
"Good old Beeker, always seeing the bright side," said Phule, grinning. "Don't worry, I can take care of myself. And if I can't, I've got a whole Legion company to do it for me."
"Sir, that's exactly what worries me the most," said Beeker.
Journal
"I see," said Phule, leaning his elbow on his desk. "Who are the invaders, sir:"
"I wish I had a good answer to that, and I'm afraid I don't," said Gottesman. "The Zenobians are being closemouthed about it." He paused and took a sip of his tea, then looked Phule straight in the eye. "I have the distinct impression they're...well, embarrassed might be the best description of how they're acting."
"Embarrassed?" Phule leaned his other elbow on the desk. Now he was frowning. "Can you be more precise? Are they embarrassed because they can't repel the invaders or because they need help or what?"
The ambassador shrugged. "I don't really know. In fact, it's just my interpretation of how they act. And you must know how hard it can be to read a nonhuman sophont's emotions." He set down the teacup with a wry smile and spread his hands. "I have enough trouble with my teenage daughters, half the time."
"I can imagine," said Phule, thinking that even parenting teenage girls might be easier than commanding the motley outfit he'd been put in charge of. "But this puts my people at a serious disadvantage, going into a possible combat situation without reliable intelligence. If we don' know what we're up against-"
"I understand, Captain," said the ambassador. He stood up and put his hand on Phule's shoulder. "We at State have our intelligence branch working overtime on it, believe me. We don't want to send anybody into a booby trap. The minute we get something useful, you'll get it from us. You have my word on that. Until then, just try to be ready for anything-anything at all."
Phule nodded. "I guess we'll have to be ready, then," he said. He stood up and shook Gottesman's hand. Then he added, "That's what we're supposed to do anyhow, isn't it?"
"I have complete confidence in you and your people. Captain," said the ambassador. Then he added darkly, "I wish I had the same confidence in your superiors." He allowed himself a thin smile and left the office.
Beeker, who had sat silently listening to the entire interview, watched the ambassador leave, then said, "Are you quite certain you want to stick your head into this particular noose, sir?"
Phule turned to look at his butler. "Is that how you read it, Beeker?" He placed high value on Beeker's opinions and advice-not that he always allowed them to influence his decisions. If he had, he'd never have joined the Space Legion. But when the butler smelled trouble, it was worth listening to him.
Beeker steepled his fingers. "Consider the evidence, sir. The Zenobians have asked for help against some sort of external threat that they cannot defeat with their own resources. Yet the Zenobians are remarkably competent warriors, both in their basic physical abilities and in their technological accomplishments. What kind of help is a single Legion company going to be able to provide?"
"Well, as much as we can, of course," said Phule. "I suspect most of our role will be in training and in tactical and strategic consultation. After all, we're being brought in as advisors, not to engage the enemy directly."
Beeker's face grew solemn. "Sir, I hope you have not entered into negotiations to purchase any bridges from the Zenobians."
Phule laughed. "I leave that to State, Beeker," he said. "With Ambassador Gottesman on our side, I'm not really worried about any surprises."
"You should be," scolded Beeker. "Ambassador Gottesman has done a great deal for us when it was to his advantage to do so. Now it is to his advantage to send us to Zenobia, but I have no idea whether it is to our advantage to go there. The Black Hills undoubtedly looked like a plum assignment to George Armstrong Custer."
"Good old Beeker, always seeing the bright side," said Phule, grinning. "Don't worry, I can take care of myself. And if I can't, I've got a whole Legion company to do it for me."
"Sir, that's exactly what worries me the most," said Beeker.
Journal
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