Phules Paradise

by Robert Asprin

"I think Mr. Phule's security team has Stilman a bit spooked, Max," Laverna said with a wink and a grin.

  Stilman fixed a cold, level gaze on her.

  "It's not funny," he said. "These soldier boys of yours haven't shown me much so far, but I'll tell you, this casino has some of the toughest employees I've ever seen. Where did Huey find them, anyway?"

  "You'll have to ask him the next time you talk," Max said, suppressing a smile of her own. "Not tonight, though. While I don't think there will be any trouble as long as you're just here as a guest, it probably wouldn't be prudent if Mr. Martin were seen conversing with us or any of our known associates this evening."

  "Yeah ... well ... it's all nice and easy for you to say `Don't worry,'" Stilman growled, glancing around once more, "but you aren't the one they'll be coming after if you're wrong. I don't know why I had to be here, anyway."

  "You don't, really," Maxine said. "Realizing, though, that you and your men have had to put up with being roughed up and humiliated due to my policy of no rough stuff during our various diversionary probes, I thought you might enjoy being around `for the kill,' as it were."

  "What? For this?" Stilman made a small gesture at the casino floor. "I suppose it was a nice thought, but this is about as exciting as watching grass grow."

  Maxine cocked a regal eyebrow at him. "I know you sometimes think me dull, Mr. Stilman, and perhaps in comparison to the excitement of the astroball circuit, I am. You should recall, however, that I also have a love of the dramatic. Rest assured, that things will get much more lively soon-in fact, in about fifteen minutes, I'd say."

  "Lively like how?"

  Maxine returned her gaze to the casino floor. "Do you ever play the slots, Mr. Stilman?"

  "Not since I first got here," Stilman responded. "I tried them once, just because it seemed the thing to do at a casino, but they always seemed to be pretty much a sucker bet to me."

  "That's quite correct," Max said with a nod. "They're popular with the tourists, and because of that they provide a surprisingly high income for any casino. Even the lure of a high jackpot, however, doesn't offset the fact that the odds are depressingly high against the player."

  "Yeah. So?" Stilman pressed, but Maxine was not about to be rushed.

  "Take that island of machines over there, for example," she said, indicating a cluster of slots with a nod of her head. "They only accept fifty-dollar tokens to play, but there's a progressive jackpot attached to them, with a guaranteed minimum of ten million dollars. Of course, if you read the fine print on the machine, you have to bet the maximum of five tokens and hit a very rare combination of images to qualify for the big jackpot."

  "Are you saying that someone's going to win the jackpot tonight? Ten million dollars?"

  Stilman craned his neck to peer at the machines, obviously impressed.

  Maxine smiled. "I know I've said it before, Mr. Stilman, but you habitually think too small. You'll notice that, like all casinos today, Mr. Gunther is using the video-image slot machines as opposed to the old models that mechanically match the various images. This both reduces the maintenance necessary, since there are fewer moving parts, and lets the house control the odds more closely, as the payout rate is controlled by the central computer which all the machines are tied into-the computer, if you'll recall, that we've paid substantially to gain access to."

  She paused to check her watch again.

  "Now, in about thirteen minutes, a sleeping program we've had planted in that computer is going to cut in and change the odds for that cluster of slots down to one in fifty. Then I think we'll see some excitement."

  "You mean they're all going to start paying out? At ten million dollars a pop?" Even Stilman's legendary calm was shattered as he gaped openly at Maxine.

  "Realistically I'm afraid it will only work a few times before they pull the plug," she said. "The way I see it, the first jackpot will cause a stir, and the management will try to play it up big for the publicity. The second will startle them, but they'll still try to maintain a generous front."

  Her eyes narrowed slightly.

  "When the third jackpot hits, however, they'll know there's something wrong and shut down the system. Of course, that decision takes time, both to make and to initiate. If we're lucky, we should hit one, maybe two more jackpots before they can put a stop to it."

  "Thirty to fifty million dollars," Stilman said, saying the words in a soft, almost reverent voice.

  "Before you ask," Max added with a smile, "those are, of course, our people manning the key machines right now. No sense letting all that money fall into the wrong hands."

  "At ten thousand dollars a minute," Laverna put in.

  Max blinked. "What's that, Laverna?"

  "Five fifty-dollar tokens per pull, times ten machines, times at least four pulls a minute, is ten thousand dollars a minute they're pumping into those machines by my count," her aide clarified. "I assume they're only playing minimum bets until the right time comes, but even if they only play for ten minutes after the flag goes up, that's one hundred thousand dollars they'll be going through."

  "The end profits more than justify the investment," Maxine said flatly, annoyed at having her explanation interrupted. "Now then, Mr. Stilman, as I was saying ... As you can tell, that many high jackpots will put a severe drain on Mr. Rafael's funds. He doesn't dare not pay off the jackpots, or the negative publicity would drive him out of business. Combined with the losses we've planned for him at the tables, however, it should keep him from making the necessary payment on his loan. What's more, word of the multiple jackpots should get sufficient media coverage that I doubt he'll be able to find anyone willing to let him borrow the money."

  Maxine was smiling again. A sweet, grandmotherly smile.

  "In short, Mr. Stilman, when those jackpot bells start to sound, what you'll be hearing is the Fat Chance Casino sliding into our cash drawer."

  "Yes, Laverna?"

  "We've got a problem."

  Maxine followed her aide's gaze and saw the unmistakable figure of Willard Phule, the security force commander, pausing to watch the activity at their targeted cluster of slot machines.

  "I thought Huey was supposed to come up with something to keep him busy when the program was scheduled to cut in."

  "He was," Maxine said through tight lips, "but obviously he hasn't. Well, there's only one thing to do."

  "What's that?" Laverna said as Max started forward.

  "Provide the distraction myself," the crime leader explained, flashing a quick smile. "Besides, I think it's about time the two of us talked directly."

  "Good evening. Captain Jester."

  The Legionnaire commander turned and smiled vaguely at being addressed by name.

  "Good evening," he said with reflexive politeness.

  "I was wondering if I might buy you a drink?" the woman continued.

  The Legionnaire smiled. "Thank you, but I'm on duty."

  "I see. I thought you might be able to make an exception this time. My name is Maxine Pruet."

  As expected, that caught Phule's entire attention, though he made a deliberate effort to remain outwardly casual.

  "Of course," he said. "Forgive me for not recognizing you from your picture."

  "What picture was that, Captain?"

  "Well, it was two pictures, actually," Phule said. "One profile, one full face."

  For a moment Maxine's eyes narrowed dangerously, then she caught herself and smiled again, though a little forced this time.

  "No need to be insulting, Mr. Phule," she said levelly. "You probably know as well as I do that I've never been arrested."

  "Quite right." The commander nodded, and for a moment a flash of weariness showed on his face. "I'm sorry ... that was a cheap shot. You just caught me, a bit by surprise, is all. Here, let me take you up on that drink."

  As he spoke, Phule stopped one of the cocktail waitresses with a gesture and plucked two glasses from the tray of complimentary champagne she was distributing.


  "Here," he said, passing one to Maxine. "What shall we drink to? Somehow I don't imagine you're eager to drink to the success of the Fat Chance."

  "Not for a while, anyway," Max purred. "How about `To honorable enemies and dishonorable friends'?"

  "I think I can accept that." The commander chuckled, raising his glass in mock salute. "We seem to have at least that much in common."

  Maxine hid her irritation as she returned his gesture. She had hoped to lead Phule off to one of the cocktail lounges, but instead they were standing near the targeted island of slots ... too near for her comfort.

  "I was wondering if you could answer a question for me, Captain?" she said, drifting slowly along the aisle as if to get a better view of the tables.

  "Depends on the question," Phule answered, but followed along apparently unaware that they were moving.

  "Why exactly did you join the Space Legion, anyway?"

  The commander gave a slow smile.

  "Within the Legion," he said, "it's generally considered impolite to ask that question."

  "How very interesting," Maxine drawled. "However, I'm not in the Legion, nor have I ever been overly concerned with being polite."

  Phule hesitated, then shrugged.

  "Oh, just call it a rich boy's whim," he said dismissively.

  "I find that very hard to believe," Max pressed, unwilling to let the subject drop.

  "How so?"

  "In the simplest terms, Mr. Phule, I doubt that anyone in your position has gotten where they are by whimsical or, casual thinking. No, I believe you have a specific purpose behind nearly everything you do, including joining the Space Legion."

  The commander glanced at her sharply.

  "How very perceptive of you," he said. "You're right, of course. I'll admit that much. I'm afraid, however, my reasons will have to remain my own. While I can't fault you for asking, you must also be aware that people in my position don't stay on top by sharing their plans with others, particularly not with the opposition."

  "Opposition," Maxine repeated, wrinkling her nose. "Really, Mr. Phule. You have such a delicate way of phrasing things. You must meet Laverna sometime. Perhaps it's a result of your common background in financial maneuverings, but you both tend to walk around a subject verbally rather than acknowledging it for what it is."

  Again Phule was forced to smile. Despite himself, he found himself liking Maxine more and more.

  "Old habits die hard, I guess," he said. "Of course, the Legion itself tends to feed the pattern by encouraging, if not requiring, double talk. For my own information, how would you describe our relationship?"

  "Why, we're rival commanders in a gang war for control of this casino, of course," Max said with an easy shrug, then, noting his frown, she continued, "Come now, Mr. Phule. Surly you don't see this as a conflict between the forces of light and darkness ... with yourself on the side of the angels?"

  "Actually I was thinking that you're the second person who's recently described me as the leader of a band of criminals," the commander explained with a wry smile. "While it's no secret that Legionnaires often have spotted pasts, I'd rather hoped for a better public image."

  "Spotted pasts," Max exclaimed with a quick bark of laughter. "There you go again, Mr. Phule, trying to verbally tie a ribbon around the neck of a hardworking mule. We provide the brains and direction for a pack of criminals and live off the profits. There's no other way to accurately describe it."

  "I'm sorry, but I can't agree," the Legionnaire said, shaking his head, "though I'm sure you intend it as a compliment to view me as an equal. I prefer to think of what I'm doing as assisting certain individuals in finding constructive, beneficial applications for their talents. For proof, let me remind you that we were assigned to protect this casino at the request of the proper owner, and that we don't stand to profit from our efforts beyond our normal wages."

  "I suppose you have a point, Captain," Maxine returned easily. "I can't honestly say, however, that I see your position as an improvement on my own. I've always found that people work harder for direct benefits than for a straight wage."

  The commander nodded. "We're in agreement there. However, sometime you might consider whether or not there are direct benefits to the individual that can outweigh monetary gain. In the meantime, if you'll excuse me, I must return to my duties. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

  Realizing both that Phule was about to break off the conversation and that there had been no sign that the expected run on the slots had begun yet, Maxine cast about quickly for something to prolong the discussion.

  "Just a moment, Captain," she said, laying a restraining hand on his arm. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

  Without further explanation, she led the Legionnaire commander over to the line by the cashier's window, which was, of course, another half dozen yards farther away from the slot machines.

  "Excuse me ... Jonesy?" she said, lightly touching the shoulder of one of the men waiting for more chips.

  The young Oriental turned with a smile, then started visibly when he saw the black-uniformed figure who was accompanying Max.

  "I don't believe you two have met," she continued, as smoothly as a society hostess at a reception. "Jonesy, this is Captain Jester, commander of the security force for this casino. Captain Jester, this is Jonesy." She bared a few extra teeth in a smile. "Of course, that isn't his real name, obviously, but that's what he's asked us to call him."

  "Captain Jester."

  "Jonesy."

  The two men eyed each other with open wariness. Neither offered to shake hands.

  "Jonesy, here, is visiting us from ... I guess you'd call it one of our sister organizations." Maxine smiled. "His superiors have expressed an extreme interest in how you and I manage to work out our differences."

  The Oriental gave a small movement of his shoulders. "I'm afraid, Captain, that curiosity is only natural for those in our line of work. Should we ever find ourselves-how should I put this?-in a similar relation to you that Mrs. Pruet is, I trust you will accept that there would be no personal rancor involved. I'm sure that, if anyone, you would understand that business is business."

  "Of course," Phule answered through tight lips. "In return, might I suggest that you inform your superiors, from me, that if they choose to visit Lorelei to witness our methods firsthand, I will do my best to see they are treated with the same hospitality as we have shown Mrs. Pruet and her organization?"

  Jonesy's eyes flickered slightly.

  "I'll be sure to do that, Captain," he said with a small bow. "Now, if you'll excuse me, they're holding a seat for me at one of the tables."

  "I don't think he likes you, Captain," Max said softly as they watched the Oriental walk away.

  Phule smiled humorlessly. "I think I can live with that. Then again, I don't think he was particularly happy with you, either, for singling him out that way."

  Maxine gave an unladylike snort.

  "Believe it or not, Mr. Phule, the possibility of Jonesy's associates appearing on Lorelei is even less appealing to me than it is to you. Besides, as I said earlier, `honorable enemies and dishonorable friends.' I considered it a matter of courtesy to make you aware of what you might be up against someday."

  "I see," the commander said, looking at her thoughtfully. "All right, I guess it's up to me to return the favor. Do you see that man sitting at the far right on the end blackjack table? The pale one?"

  Maxine craned her neck slightly, then nodded.

  "Well, realizing your interest in collecting casinos, he's someone you might want to watch out for in the future."

  "Really?" Max said, studying the indicated individual. "What is he? A card cheat?"

  "Not hardly," Phule said easily. "In fact, we've taken steps to screen out as many known cheats as possible-part of our job as security, you know. It might be of interest to you that we've already sent over a hundred of them back to the spaceport so far today."

  Maxine digeste
d this news in silence for a few moments.

  "That's quite a claim, Captain," she said at last, speaking slowly and carefully. "Might I inquire as to how you managed to detect them?"

  "It wasn't that difficult," the commander said. "We had spotted most of them during the past week, along with the dealers who were feeding them bad deals and extra chips. Tullie Bascom, the new casino manager, helped us pick out the rest. It seems he knows most of them on sight. Once they were identified, it was just a matter of picking the right time to weed them out without disrupting the legitimate guests, and I felt today was the right time."

  "Tullie Bascom." Max said the name as if it tasted bad. "I thought he had retired. For that matter, I was under the impression that Huey Martin was the manager."

  "He was," Phule confirmed. "Unfortunately he was also weeded out today. Some question as to whether he was working for the house or against it, if I understand correctly."

  "I see."

  "However, I was about to tell you about the gentleman at the blackjack table," the commander continued, as if unaware of Maxine's reaction to his disclosure. "His name is Albert, and he heads a team of computer auditors-some of the best I've ever worked with."

  "Computer auditors," Maxine echoed tonelessly.

  "Yes. I highly recommend him if you ever feel the need to have your central computer's programming checked." Phule locked eyes momentarily with his rival. "I know you'll find this hard to believe, but Albert there discovered that someone had been tampering with the Fat Chance computer. According to him, someone had put in a time-triggered program which would have drastically changed the payout odds on the progressive slot machines at midnight tonight." He made a show of looking at his watch. "We had him correct it, of course, but I was curious to see who might be watching those slots at midnight and what their reactions would be when the machines simply continued to eat the money instead of paying out millions like they expected. Now here it is nearly half past and all I've done was talk with you. C'est la guerre, I guess. I really must be going now, but it has been a real pleasure spending the time with you, Mrs. Pruet."

  With that, he gave her a mock salute with his index finger, then turned and walked away, smiling.